CHAPTER 4

January 30, 2017: Seven years have passed since the last significant change in our family.

That day, I dropped off my parents at NAIA Terminal 3. They were flying to Canada at my sister Mia's request. Mia now lives there, working as a nurse. She married a Filipino bartender and gave birth to a baby boy—my first nephew. Mia wanted our parents to be his babysitter.

Initially, I disagreed with her plan. Getting all the paperwork done was a hassle. I didn't like the idea that our parents would become caregivers there. But they were excited. They wanted to meet their only grandchild and looked forward to caring for him, so I had no choice but to let them go.

"Please hurry up, Ate. Mom can't handle the cold. Don't make them wait too long at the airport," I told my sister over the phone.

I glanced back at my parents. We stood outside the terminal building. They had leather jackets draped over their arms, and their luggage sat on the tiled floor. We parked our family car in front of the departure area, just a few meters away. I knew I had to leave soon; airport security would be on me if I stayed too long. My family trusted me with the car; I had been driving for two years.

"You're so silly! I know that," my sister said on the other end of the line. "What about you? You're on your own now. Take care of yourself and try going out occasionally. You might meet someone new." Her words grated on my nerves.

I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes. My sister constantly repeated the same things. She seemed to believe my single status was a sign of impending doom.

"Here you go again! What's wrong with you? You sound just like Mama and Papa," I replied, my voice tinged with sass.

She chuckled. "We're just concerned, Ara. Seven years—imagine that. Aren't you tired? We want you to be happy again. By the way, I have someone to introduce to you here in Canada. He's Bert's colleague, handsome and around your age. You two would make a fantastic match."

"Please, enough of it," I said, cutting her off. I didn't want to continue this conversation. "Bye now! Mama and Papa are about to enter the terminal. Just call me when they arrive."

I embraced my parents, fighting back tears. I would miss them dearly. As they headed into the terminal, I hurriedly left the departure area, wanting to avoid dealing with airport security.

Now, I lived alone, sad but with a hint of anticipation. We rented our house in Makati because I didn't want to stay there. The house was filled with memories, especially with Hector, who often stayed with us.

When Hector's parents decided to move to America permanently, they sold their properties here. They wanted to get away from the painful memories of losing him.

Seven years had passed, and I had somehow managed to move forward. I had become a clinical psychologist, running a clinic in a hospital in Ortigas. Additionally, I was a radio DJ for an AM station, discussing topics related to psychology and psychiatry. I had just finished my master's degree the previous year and was now preparing for my doctorate. I planned to study abroad, but I had to save money first.

I couldn't believe I had achieved all this in just seven years. Despite the challenges, I had fulfilled my goals and dreams.

The truth was, this was what Hector had wanted for me—for both of us. Instead of suffering in his absence, I had turned it into an opportunity. I had reversed the situation and made him my inspiration.

His dreams for us became a source of strength, guiding me in the right direction. Everything bore fruit. However, I now felt bound to him for life. It was as if Hector were still beside me, shaping my path. Though he was no longer here, his presence lingered in my mind, and I accepted it with an open heart.

***

"Daddy, what's wrong with your classmates? They look like reporters, always asking where you are," I told Hector. "You're so stubborn. You've been absent for a few days now!"

I sat at my study table, working on a report for my technical writing class. Hector was in my room, lying on my bed, engrossed in his pocket Nintendo. His eyes were so focused on the game that I felt like plucking them out.

"Ignore them. Everyone wants to know where you are when you're a superstar on campus."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever," I muttered.

I glanced at him and shrugged. Hector always lived his life as if everything had a shortcut. "Sometimes I wonder, Daddy, do you have dreams?" I sighed. "You're too lazy for school."

Hector just laughed. He paused his game, sat up, and faced me with a broad smile. "Of course, I have a dream."

I crossed my arms. "And what is it?"

"For you to be my wife," he said with a playful gesture. "And for us to build one big happy family."

I giggled a laugh deep inside me but pretended to be annoyed. "You're good at that!" I scolded him, though his words secretly delighted me. "Now get up; Mama has finished cooking dinner."

Hector surprised me when his arms clung around my waist, hugging me from behind as I tidied up my study table. He whispered in my ear, his breath warming against my skin.

"My only goal is for your dreams to come true," Hector said in his sweet, baritone voice. "So don't worry about me; just focus on your studies and make us proud—me, Mama, Papa, and Mia." His words made me so happy that my lips stretched from ear to ear.

Those words still linger in my memory, as if Hector Villanueva had just spoken them yesterday—words that are difficult to forget.

I took a deep breath, reminiscing about those moments. Hector's gentle, baritone voice faded away, leaving only silence.

I suddenly found myself standing in front of the sliding door on the balcony of my condominium unit. The towering buildings and the sprawling city lay before me. I smiled, but my heart felt heavy. I didn't realize I was wiping tears from my eyes.

I closed the sliding door and headed to the bathroom. As soon as I walked in, I began getting ready for work.