When I was taking care of my ex-husband in the hospital in Manila, when he was discharged he asked me to get married again, I only asked him three questions so he was surprised. I said it wasn’t to get revenge, I just wanted to wake him up.
Paolo and I met through relatives in Manila who introduced us. The first day we met, he was kind, thoughtful and caring. At that time, I—Mira—was still young, I didn’t think of getting married early, but in the face of his honesty and gentleness, I gradually opened my heart.
He didn’t complain when I was late for every appointment. Every time we met, he would take me home, and then come back. On weekends or holidays, he took the initiative to plan outings; I just had to follow without having to worry about anything. Mom Rosa and Dad Ernesto (Paolo’s parents) were overjoyed to see how well he treated me, even though I had initially planned to wait a few years before getting married.
Paolo was four years older than me, his parents were a bit impatient, always urging us to get married. They said that if we weren’t married yet, we could just get married first, and then we could get married after we had children. But my parents didn’t accept the idea of ”getting married by accident”, so after much discussion, we decided to get married. Less than a year after we met, we had a small wedding at the barangay church. My husband’s parents gave us a thick envelope; My parents gave us a car as a dowry. My husband’s parents had already prepared an apartment in Quezon City (still with a loan), but Paolo’s salary was stable at that time, so there was nothing much to worry about.
At first, my wife and I lived separately. In the second year, I got pregnant, and Paolo suggested that I move in with my in-laws so that Mom could take care of me. I agreed because my family was busy preparing for my younger sister’s wedding and couldn’t help me.
Since Paolo moved in, Paolo has started to change. During his pregnancy, he often came home early, saying he was hanging out with his friends. He told me that Mom was taking care of me, so that he could “rest”; now that I don’t have a child, I can enjoy it, but later when I’m busy with diapers and milk, I won’t have the chance.
Then I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl—Mia. I thought that was okay, but the unexpected happened. One day, a woman came to our house. In front of Mom and Dad, she loudly asked me to divorce her so that she could be the “first wife.” I was devastated. Paolo came home, we had a fierce argument, and he even insulted me. Angry, the next morning I dragged him to file for divorce; that evening, I packed up and took the child to my mother’s house.
Mia followed me, and fro
In the years that followed, I devoted myself to working and raising my son. Little by little, I built a stable life: a good job, a small house in Quezon City full of laughter. Mia grew up with love; Despite the absence of her father, she never lost her love. Mom and Dad still visit her occasionally. I didn’t forbid her, nor did I hold a grudge. Everything was over, I chose to let go—not for others, but for myself.
Now, looking back, I am grateful for the storms that helped me grow. With each hurt, I learned to love myself more, to be stronger, and to live for the true happiness of my mother and daughter.
Life may not be perfect, but I believe: a self-reliant woman who knows how to love herself will always have a good ending—whether there is a man by her side or not.
m then on I cut off all contact with Paolo. Some friends say that after I left, Mom and Dad got sick because they were so sad.
When my son turned 2, on his little birthday, my ex-wife’s parents suddenly arrived. They said that Paolo had had an accident and was in the hospital in Manila, hoping that I would visit him because he was so sorry.
Honestly, I didn’t feel anything anymore. But thinking of the kindness Mom and Dad had shown Mia and me back then, I agreed to take care of Paolo in the hospital—just because they loved me as if I were their own child; I couldn’t let two old men suffer.
After he was released from the hospital, Paolo suddenly said that he wanted to get married again. I didn’t answer. He kept begging. I smiled slightly and asked three questions:
“I’m doing well now: I have someone who loves me, a stable job, and a good daughter. Why would I go back to the person who betrayed me?”
“Find someone better than me and marry him.”
“But you still haven’t married him? Or are you not sure if the child you gave birth to is yours?”
I didn’t say that out of revenge, I just hoped he would wake up. Paolo was silent. I didn’t want to hear those words of regret anymore. Losing trust is inevitable. For me, a good daughter is enough; I don’t need someone by my side to live a happy life.