“Mateo… I love you so much,” I whispered, nearly in tears.
“I love you too. And I’m ready to face them, if you are.”
A few more days passed, and finally, I accompanied him to visit Mama and Papa. They didn’t know we were coming. When the door opened, I saw the same eyes that had looked at me before as if I were worthless.
“Maya?” Mama exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Papa followed, frowning, but when they saw Mateo—dressed well, with confidence, and even carrying a small gift—the color slowly drained from their faces.
They looked as if cold water had been poured over them.
“M-Mateo? Is that you?” Papa almost whispered.
Mateo smiled calmly. “Good afternoon, Ma’am, Sir. I wanted to personally apologize if you thought I couldn’t take care of Maya. And I also wanted to let you know… we have established a home. If you would like to see it, our home is open to you.”
Mama and Papa exchanged glances—they looked disbelieving. Mama’s lips trembled. “We thought… you wouldn’t achieve anything.”
That’s when I took a deep breath. “Mama, Papa… this isn’t about money. You drove me away even though I loved him. But you are still in my heart. I’m here now not to reproach you, but to show you that I am happy.”
Mama’s face crumpled before she finally cried. “Daughter… forgive us. We were blinded by wealth. We didn’t see how much he loves you.”
Papa was silent, but for the first time, I saw tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. “Daughter… if only I could take back that day…”
Mateo approached and tightly held my hand. “What matters is that we are here now.”
And there, in the old living room where I was first driven away, Mama hugged me tightly—no more anger, no more judgment, just an embrace full of regret.
They visited us a few days later, and upon entering our large house, they almost sat down in shock. Not because of the size or the beauty—but because every corner was a masterpiece created by my husband whom they once called “a man who would achieve nothing.”
And that night, while we sat on the balcony, hand-in-hand, Mateo whispered:
“We did it, Mayang.”
I smiled, looking at the stars. “Yes. Not because of the house, not because of the wealth… but because we never left each other.”
And there I realized:
Sometimes, the most beautiful home isn’t the biggest one—but the one you built together, even if it started with the smallest piece of wood.