The man spent 22 years raising his ex-girlfriend’s son all by himself, and on the day of the boy’s graduation ceremony, his mother suddenly showed up at the university to ‘take him back.’ With just one gesture, his heart stopped and his voice broke…
The woman standing at the entrance was dressed impeccably—an expensive terno-inspired dress, a designer handbag, long styled hair, and oversized sunglasses that covered half her face. But he recognized her instantly.
She walked slowly toward them, holding a bouquet of red roses in her hand, her eyes fixed on Arvin, who was taking photos with his friends after the graduation ceremony at University of the Philippines Manila. Then she looked at the man and gave a faint smile, as if twenty-two years had never passed.
—“You’ve done a great job. I… I’m here to take my son back.”
Those words stabbed him like a knife. He tightened his grip on the bouquet of sunflowers he had brought for Arvin; the petals trembled in the warm Manila evening air.
—“Take him back?” —his voice cracked— “Do you know how he grew up? How many nights I carried him to the ER at Philippine General Hospital with a 40-degree fever? Do you know how kids at school called him ‘the boy with no mother,’ and I had to lie that you were working abroad so he wouldn’t cry?”
Rafaela lowered her eyes, her voice suddenly uneasy.
—“I know I was wrong. But my life is stable now. I want to make it up to him. I don’t want Arvin to grow up without a mother.”
He let out a bitter laugh—shaky, painful.
—“Without a mother? And what about me? Where were you when he took his first steps? When we had no money, not even for diapers? When people called me crazy for raising a child you yourself weren’t even sure was mine?”
Rafaela stayed silent. She looked at Arvin, who at that moment was walking toward them, diploma in hand, a bright smile on his face.
—“Dad! I’m done!” —Arvin said excitedly.
The man turned to him, trying hard to hold back his tears. Arvin suddenly stopped when he noticed the woman beside them.
—“Excuse me… who are you?” he asked politely, but with unmistakable distance.
Rafaela’s hands trembled. She slowly removed her sunglasses, revealing eyes brimming with tears.
—“It’s me, Arvin. I… I’m your mother.”
The air grew heavy. A few nearby graduates turned to watch.
Arvin stared at her, his breath shaky.
—“My mother? The one who left me when I couldn’t even speak yet? The one who made my dad endure years of humiliation for raising a child no one even wanted to acknowledge?”
—“I’m sorry… please. I’ve regretted it all these years. I want to start over.” Her voice broke as she pleaded.
Arvin didn’t respond immediately. He looked at the man beside him—thin, tired, wearing an old polo shirt, but with the same warm, gentle smile he had grown up with his whole life. Arvin wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
—“Dad… let’s go. I’m craving your homemade lumpiang shanghai.”
That simple sentence shattered Rafaela completely.
The man looked at her one last time. There was no anger left—only deep exhaustion.
—“I lived twenty-two years for him. I’ve been his father… and his mother. You have no right to claim anything now. You came far too late.”
He turned away. The bouquet of sunflowers slipped from his hand, scattering yellow petals across the hot concrete of the campus grounds.
Rafaela stood frozen, watching father and son walk away into the crowd. She placed a hand over her stomach—where she had once carried a child—but now there was an emptiness between her and Arvin that could never be filled.
He didn’t look back. As the ceremonial music from the university speakers echoed through the courtyard, the man quietly wiped a tear and whispered:
—“Arvin… today, I truly feel like I made it.”