The irony was perfect.
Angelica arrived at my house around noon.
I heard the tricycle stop outside, then hurried footsteps on the pathway.
When I opened the door, she stood there—hair messy, eyes swollen, clutching her bag like it was the only thing she had left.
“Mama…”
Her voice cracked.
“Mama, please… kailangan kita.”
I stepped aside slowly.
“Come in.”
She walked inside like a lost child. For a moment, I almost reached out to hug her—but I stopped myself. She had chosen her path.
She sat at the table, hands trembling.
“Mama… bakit mo ako pinapaalis? That condo… that’s my home. Please, sabihin mo na may mali lang. Sabihin mo na hindi ikaw ang may gawa nito.”
I looked at her calmly.
“Angelica, anak… do you remember the day you told me to leave my own house? Two minutes on the phone. No explanation. No pity. Just… ‘Mama, umalis ka.’”
She flinched like I slapped her.
“Mama, I— I wasn’t thinking straight. Eduardo—”
