My name is Elisa, I am 55 years old. A retired teacher and wife of a successful businessman named Ramon. In the eyes of others, our family was perfect. He was rich, decent, and God-fearing. Our only son Jeric works as an Engineer in Riyadh, while his wife Maricel and their son Baby Jem live in the other subdivision, just a few kilometers away from our mansion in Alabang.
Maricel was very kind—beautiful, fair-skinned, and caring. I couldn’t say anything bad about her as a daughter-in-law. Over the past few months, however, something seems to have changed. I noticed that my husband, Ramon, had been away a lot. He used to be away only on Sundays for golf, but now, he’s barely home three nights a week. His reason was always the same: a meeting, a site inspection, or some urgent paperwork.
Maricel, on the other hand, often didn’t answer my calls. When I asked her where she was, she would say, “I just needed some self-care time, Mom.” At one point, I caught Ramon talking to someone on the phone in a whisper. When I walked in, he suddenly hung up. “Who was that?” I asked. “Oh, no one important,” he replied with a forced smirk.
Doubt is like a poison. It slowly kills your confidence. I began to be suspicious. Why is my husband so preoccupied? Why does my daughter-in-law also seem to be hiding something? One night, while Ramon was sleeping, I checked his phone. It was locked. But I saw a pop-up message from Maricel: “Dad, thank you for earlier. Please don’t tell Mommy, she might worry.”
I felt like I had been sprayed with cold water. “Dad?” She calls her father-in-law that, but why was there a secret? Why don’t they want me to know? My imagination traveled through the dark corridors of doubt. Is it possible? Is there an affair between my husband and my son’s wife? There is so much news like that today. Oh my God, it shouldn’t be happening to us.
Saturday arrived. Ramon said goodbye early. “There’s an emergency meeting at the Makati Town Hall. I have to go now,” he said as he hurriedly put on his shoes. He didn’t even kiss me before leaving. I was stunned. As soon as he left, I called Maricel. “Hello, Maricel? Can I go there? I’m going to visit Jem,” I said. “Oh, Mom! I’m sorry, I’m not home. My friends and I are at the mall. Maybe next time,” she replied with a hint of trepidation.
My husband said he was at the Town Hall. My daughter-in-law said she was at the mall. But I felt certain they were together. My anxiety won out. I got in my car and drove to Maricel’s house. I needed to see if what they were saying was true.
When I arrived at Maricel’s subdivision, it was quiet. In the distance, I could see the front of their house. And that’s when my world came crashing down.
Parked under a mango tree, near Maricel’s gate, was the familiar black Toyota Fortuner. It was Ramon’s car. The car that should have been in the Town Hall garage.
My hands trembled on the steering wheel. My eyes were blurred by torrents of tears. “You have no shame…” I whispered to myself. “You’ve betrayed me… You’re cheating on Jeric!” The pain I felt was more than just the pain of being pierced by a needle. The two people closest to me, plotting a betrayal behind my back.
I got out of the car with a bang. I didn’t care if I caused a scandal. I was going to beat them! I slammed the gate. No one answered, but the front door wasn’t locked. I went in. The house was silent. No one in the living room. No one in the kitchen. But I heard voices upstairs—coming from Maricel’s master’s bedroom.
I slowly climbed up the stairs. Every step was heavy. Every step was filled with blinding anger. I heard Ramon’s voice.
“Hold on… It’s okay. We’re going to get through this.”
I heard Maricel’s muffled cries. “Dad… I can’t take this anymore… I’m scared…”
“I’m here. I won’t let you down.”
My anger flared up. I slammed the bedroom door open. “YOU ARE SHAMELESS!!” I screamed to the heavens.
I was expecting to see them cuddling or in bed. I was hoping to witness the act of betrayal that would crush me forever.
But I saw something entirely different.
I saw Maricel, sitting on the floor, crying as she held a pile of hospital paperwork and receipts. I saw Ramon, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a glass of water and medicine, looking pale, skinny, and seemingly having difficulty breathing.
I was stunned. “Ramon?”
They looked at me. It was a complete shock. Maricel was frozen. “Mom?”
“What… what does this mean?” I asked, my courage instantly replaced by confusion and fear. I looked at Ramon. He looked so different from this morning. Earlier, he was wearing long sleeves so I didn’t notice. Now, he was just in a loose shirt. His arms were covered in bruises and needle marks. His skin had a yellowish tinge.
“Elisa…” Ramon called out softly. He tried to smile, but there was a hint of pain on his face. “Why are you here?”
I walked over to Maricel and grabbed the papers she was holding. I read it. St. Luke’s Medical Center… Oncology Department… Chemotherapy Session… Patient: Ramon de Leon… Diagnosis: Pancreatic Cancer Stage 4.
I dropped the paper. I sat down on the floor. My world was spinning fast. Cancer? Stage 4?
“Ma…” Maricel cried as she approached me. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry we kept it a secret…”
“Why?” was all I could say. “Why don’t I know? Ramon, I am your wife. Why did you tell her and not me?” I turned to Ramon, who nodded weakly. My earlier anger over perceived infidelity was now replaced with fury over the secrecy of something so serious.
Ramon took a deep breath. He was struggling. “Elisa… You have a heart condition. Do you remember when you had a stroke last year? The doctor said you must not be stressed. Strong emotions are forbidden. If I told you that my life was in jeopardy… you might even go before me. I can’t handle that.”
Ramon’s eyes filled with tears. “Maricel… she was the only one who knew because she saw me at the hospital once during her check-up. I pleaded with her. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and Jeric. I don’t want Jeric to come home and ruin his job as an OFW. I don’t want you to worry yourself sick.”
“So…” I whispered. “That’s why you are always leaving.”
“He comes with me to chemotherapy, Mom,” Maricel explained. “After the session, Dad is very weak. We stay here afterwards… His body is very weak after chemo. He vomits, he gets dizzy. He can’t go home to you like that because you’ll see it. He rests here until he is able to stand up and pretend to be strong in front of you.”
I looked at my husband. The man who has been with me for three decades. The man I thought was having an affair was fighting a death battle alone just to protect me. I could see the bruises on his arm—not kiss marks, but marks from an IV drip. His secretiveness wasn’t because he was hiding another woman, but because he didn’t want me to see him weaken.
I walked over to Ramon and gave him a big hug. “Your strength… Your deception…” I cried into his chest. “I can take it. I can take it as long as we can be together. Don’t leave me alone in the dark like this.”
“I’m sorry, dear. I just want our last days to be happy without you worrying,” he whispered as he stroked my hair. “I want to fix everything before I go. I’m fixing the land titles, the business, so that when I’m gone, Jeric won’t have any trouble.”
I turned to Maricel. I hugged her too. “Please forgive me, anak. I entertained evil thoughts about you. I thought… I thought you were having an affair with my husband.”
“I understand, Mom. It was difficult for me too. I wanted to tell you, but I promised Dad,” Maricel replied.
That afternoon, in my daughter-in-law’s room, the three of us cried. We contacted Jeric in Riyadh. On the video call, we let everyone know. My son cried, swearing in anger as to why it was hidden, but in the end, grateful that he finally knew the truth. He promised to come home soon.
Over the next few months, there were no more secrets. We took care of Ramon together. He no longer had to hide. I went with him to every chemo, to every check-up. I gave him the love and support he deserved. As much as it hurt to see him struggling, it hurt even more if I didn’t have him around.
Six months after that day, Ramon died. I was holding his hand on my right, and Jeric (who had come home) was holding his hand on his left. He left peacefully. There was no anger, no hidden secrets.
Now, every time I drive past Maricel’s house and see the empty space where Ramon’s car used to be parked, I no longer feel jealousy. Instead, I feel gratitude. I want to thank Maricel for being my husband’s pillar during the times when I was unaware of the weight he was carrying. Thank God for giving us the opportunity to say goodbye and reconcile.
Sometimes, what we see is not the whole truth. What we think of as sin is sometimes a form of the greatest love and sacrifice. Fortunately, I went. Fortunately, I found out the truth. Because otherwise, my husband might have died thinking of him as a traitor, when he turned out to be the bravest man I’ve ever known.