Ang Lihim Kong Pag-ibig sa Asawa ng Pinsan Ko
Chapter 6

Ang Gabing Hindi Na Maibabalik

Walang nagsalita.

Ang sala, na ilang araw pa lamang ang nakalipas ay mukhang perpektong tahanan sa mata ni Althea, ay biglang naging parang silid ng paglilitis. Nakatayo si Nico sa gitna, hawak ang cellphone, habang sa screen ay nakabukas ang larawang nagpatahimik sa kanilang lahat.

Isang lumang larawan.

Isang dokumento.

Isang pangalan.

Isang anak.

At isang katotohanang matagal itinago sa dilim.

Nakatitig si Nico sa screen na parang kapag tinitigan niya iyon nang mas matagal, magbabago ang laman. Parang mawawala ang pangalan ni Clarisse. Parang magiging biro ang lahat. Parang ang sakit na biglang bumagsak sa kanyang dibdib ay hindi totoo.

Pero hindi nagbago ang larawan.

Hindi nawala ang pangalan.

Hindi nagising ang kahit sino mula sa masamang panaginip.

“Anak mo?” tanong ni Nico.

Dalawang salita lang iyon.

Pero parang bumagsak ang buong bahay.

Si Clarisse ay nakaupo sa sofa, nakatakip ang dalawang kamay sa bibig, nanginginig ang balikat sa pigil na iyak. Hindi siya makatingin kay Nico. Hindi rin kay Althea. Para siyang babaeng hinubaran ng lahat ng kasinungalingang ginamit niyang damit sa loob ng maraming taon.

“Clarisse,” ulit ni Nico, halos pabulong na. “May anak ka?”

Tumulo ang luha sa pisngi ni Clarisse.

“Oo.”

Napapikit si Althea.

Kahit hindi kanya ang sakit, ramdam niya ang bigat. Ang simpleng salitang iyon ay parang kutsilyong inilubog sa dibdib ni Nico. Hindi lamang dahil may anak si Clarisse. Kundi dahil itinago iyon sa kanya. Ginawa siyang asawa sa loob ng kasinungalingang hindi niya lubos na alam.

Nico took one step back.

“Bago tayo ikasal?”

Clarisse nodded weakly. “Oo.”

“Kay Rafael?”

Hindi agad sumagot si Clarisse.

Iyon ang sumira sa natitirang lakas ni Nico.

Napatawa siya nang mahina, pero walang saya. Parang tunog iyon ng isang taong hindi na alam kung iiyak ba o sisigaw.

“Diyos ko.”

“Nico,” sabi ni Clarisse, tumayo, “please—”

“Huwag.” Itinaas ni Nico ang kamay. “Huwag kang lalapit.”

Natigil si Clarisse.

Maging si Tita Maribel ay tila walang magawa. Nakatayo ito sa gilid, maputla ang mukha, ngunit pilit pa ring matigas ang tindig. Kahit sa gitna ng pagbagsak, sinusubukan pa rin nitong magmukhang kontrolado ang lahat.

“Hindi mo naiintindihan,” sabi ni Clarisse.

Nico looked at her with eyes full of pain. “Then explain.”

Napayuko si Clarisse.

“Explain,” ulit ni Nico, mas mariin. “Explain mo sa akin kung paano ako ginawang asawa habang may anak kang itinago. Explain mo kung bakit pinakasalan kita nang hindi ko alam ang buong katotohanan. Explain mo kung bakit ilang taon akong nabuhay sa bahay na ito na parang ako ang may pagkukulang, habang kayo pala ang may inilibing.”

“Hindi namin siya inilibing!” sigaw ni Clarisse.

Tumigil ang lahat.

Althea’s breath caught.

Hindi namin siya inilibing.

Ibig sabihin…

Buhay?

Clarisse realized what she had said. Her face crumpled.

Nico stared at her. “What do you mean?”

Tita Maribel stepped forward. “Clarisse, enough.”

“No.” Clarisse wiped her tears with shaking hands. “Hindi na. Hindi ko na kaya.”

“Clarisse,” babala ni Tita Maribel.

“I said hindi ko na kaya!” sigaw ni Clarisse, humarap sa ina. “Ikaw ang may gustong itago ang lahat. Ikaw ang nagsabing mawawala ang pangalan natin. Ikaw ang nagsabing masisira ako. Ikaw ang nagsabing walang lalaking matinong papakasal sa akin kapag nalaman nilang nagkaanak ako kay Rafael.”

Althea felt her knees weaken.

Nico’s face turned completely still.

“Buhay ang bata?” tanong niya.

Clarisse closed her eyes.

“Oo.”

Isang mahabang katahimikan ang sumunod.

Parang maging ang hangin ay tumigil.

Nico lowered the phone slowly. “Nasaan siya?”

Clarisse could barely speak. “Hindi ko alam.”

“What do you mean hindi mo alam?”

“Hindi ko alam!” Napahawak si Clarisse sa dibdib, hirap huminga. “Hindi ko alam kung nasaan siya ngayon.”

“How can you not know where your own child is?”

Clarisse broke down.

“Because Mommy took her away!”

The words exploded across the room.

Althea turned to Tita Maribel.

For the first time, nakita niya ang tunay na takot sa mukha ng tiyahin niya. Hindi ito takot na mahuli sa maliit na kasalanan. Ito ay takot ng taong alam na ang pinakamadilim niyang ginawa ay wala nang mapagtataguan.

“Nagsisinungaling siya,” sabi ni Tita Maribel, pero mahina ang boses.

Clarisse shook her head, crying. “Hindi na ako magsisinungaling para sa’yo.”

Nico looked at Tita Maribel. “You took the child?”

“Ginawa ko ang kailangang gawin,” sagot nito, pilit ibinabalik ang dating tapang. “Bata pa si Clarisse. Naloko siya ni Rafael. Hindi niya kayang panindigan ang kahihiyang dala noon.”

“Kahihiyan?” Nico’s voice trembled with rage. “A child is not shame.”

Tita Maribel’s jaw tightened. “Madali para sa’yo sabihin iyan dahil hindi mo pangalan ang mawawasak.”

“Pangalan?” Nico laughed bitterly. “You destroyed a child’s life for a family name?”

“Hindi namin siya sinaktan.”

“Nasaan siya?”

Tita Maribel did not answer.

Nico stepped closer. “Nasaan ang bata?”

“Safe siya.”

“Nasaan?”

“Hindi mo na kailangang malaman.”

Before anyone could move, Nico slammed his hand against the table.

Althea flinched.

“Nasaan siya?” sigaw ni Nico.

Clarisse sobbed harder. “Mommy, sabihin mo na. Please. Sabihin mo na.”

Tita Maribel’s face remained cold, but her hands were shaking.

“Pinamigay ko siya.”

The room went silent.

Althea felt the world tilt.

Clarisse covered her mouth, as if hearing the words aloud reopened a wound that had never healed.

Nico stared at Tita Maribel. “To whom?”

“A family who could take care of her.”

“What family?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“Liar.”

Tita Maribel’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tone.”

“No.” Nico’s voice dropped, dangerous and controlled. “You don’t get to command this room anymore.”

For years, perhaps, Nico had been the quiet man. The one who stayed. The one who swallowed humiliation. The one who carried debts and secrets because everyone around him made him believe silence was virtue.

But in that moment, Althea saw him change.

Not into a cruel man.

Into a man who had finally reached the edge.

“You took a child from her mother,” Nico said. “You hid it. You forced a marriage to cover it. You used my father’s hospital bills to keep me tied to this family. And all these years, you looked at me like I owed you my life.”

Tita Maribel did not blink.

“You did owe us.”

Clarisse gasped. “Mommy…”

Nico smiled slowly, painfully. “Thank you.”

Tita Maribel frowned. “For what?”

“For saying it clearly.” His eyes hardened. “Now I know exactly what kind of people I married into.”

Clarisse looked like she had been struck.

“Nico…”

He turned to her. “Did you know where they took the child?”

Clarisse shook her head, crying. “No. They told me she was adopted by a good family. Then later… later Mommy said it was better if I stopped asking. Rafael kept threatening to expose me, and I was scared, and then you came, and everyone said marrying you would fix everything.”

“Fix everything,” Nico repeated.

Clarisse reached for him. “I did love you.”

He stepped back.

The movement was small.

But it destroyed her.

“I don’t know what part of our life was real,” Nico said.

Clarisse began to cry silently.

Althea stood frozen near the stairs, wishing she could disappear. This was not her pain. This was not her marriage. This was not her secret. But somehow, every revelation seemed to pull her deeper.

Then Nico’s phone rang again.

Everyone looked at it.

Rafael Sandoval.

This time, Nico answered.

He placed the phone on speaker.

For a moment, only static and faint breathing came through.

Then a man’s voice.

“Finally.”

Nico’s jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

Rafael laughed softly. “You always ask the wrong question. The real question is what do you deserve to know?”

“Nasaan ang bata?”

A pause.

Then Rafael said, “So she told you.”

Clarisse whispered, “Rafael, please.”

“Clarisse,” Rafael said, voice turning colder. “You had years to do this properly.”

“Nasaan ang anak ko?” Clarisse cried.

Rafael was quiet for a moment.

“Funny,” he said. “You call her your child now.”

Clarisse collapsed back onto the sofa.

Nico gripped the phone. “Tell us where she is.”

“I can.”

“Then do it.”

“But truth has a price.”

Tita Maribel stepped forward. “You want money.”

Rafael chuckled. “Money? You still think everything can be bought, Maribel?”

“What do you want?” Nico asked.

“I want a meeting. Tonight. Just Nico.”

“No,” Althea said before she could stop herself.

Everyone turned to her.

Rafael went silent.

Then his voice changed.

“Ah. Althea.”

Her blood ran cold.

Nico looked at her sharply.

“How do you know her?” Nico demanded.

Rafael ignored him. “You really don’t know why you’re involved, do you?”

Althea’s fingers tightened around the handle of her maleta. “Ano’ng ibig mong sabihin?”

“Ask your aunt.”

Althea slowly turned to Tita Maribel.

Tita Maribel’s face had gone pale again.

“What does he mean?” Althea asked.

No answer.

“Ask her,” Rafael said, almost amused, “why your mother suddenly had money years ago.”

The room spun.

“My mother?” Althea whispered.

Nico moved closer to her. “Rafael, speak clearly.”

“Not on the phone.” Rafael’s voice hardened. “Tonight. The old chapel near San Isidro. Ten o’clock. Nico comes alone.”

“No,” Clarisse said. “I’m coming.”

“You lost that right years ago.”

“Rafael!”

“And bring the document,” Rafael added.

“What document?” Nico asked.

“The adoption paper Maribel thinks she burned.”

Tita Maribel whispered, “Impossible.”

Rafael heard her.

“Nothing stays burned when someone keeps a copy.”

Then the call ended.

No one moved.

Althea could barely breathe.

Her mother.

Money years ago.

Adoption paper.

No.

Hindi puwede.

Mabilis na pumasok sa isip niya ang mga piraso ng nakaraan na dati ay hindi niya binigyan ng kahulugan. Ang biglaang pag-alis ng nanay niya noon para “magtrabaho sa Maynila.” Ang pagbabalik nito makalipas ang ilang linggo na may perang pambayad sa utang ng pamilya. Ang mga bulungan ng matatanda. Ang pag-iwas ni Tita Maribel sa tuwing nababanggit ang pangalan ng nanay niya.

At isang alaala.

Malabo.

Pero naroon.

Isang gabing umiyak ang nanay niya habang hawak ang lumang kumot na pambata.

“Anak,” bulong nito noon kay Althea, “hindi lahat ng ina pinapayagang maging ina.”

Bata pa si Althea noon.

Hindi niya naintindihan.

Ngayon, ang alaala ay bumalik na parang kutsilyo.

“Tita,” sabi ni Althea, halos walang boses. “Ano ang kinalaman ng nanay ko rito?”

Tita Maribel’s face hardened again. “Wala.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Nico said.

Tita Maribel turned on him. “You stay out of family matters.”

“I am done staying out of crimes.”

“Crimes?” Tita Maribel laughed sharply. “You know nothing.”

“Then tell us.”

But she refused.

Althea took one step forward. “Tita, kung may kinalaman ang nanay ko, karapatan kong malaman.”

“No,” Tita Maribel snapped. “Ang karapatan mo ay manatili sa lugar mo.”

The words landed with old, familiar cruelty.

But this time, Althea did not lower her head.

Something had shifted.

Maybe it was the fear. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was seeing how many lives had been twisted by one woman’s need to control everything.

Or maybe, finally, she was tired of being told where she belonged.

“Buong buhay ko,” Althea said, voice shaking but clear, “itinulak ninyo ako sa gilid. Kapag nagsalita ako, bastos. Kapag umiyak ako, mahina. Kapag nangangailangan ako, pabigat.”

Tita Maribel stared at her.

“But not this time,” Althea continued. “Kung ginamit ninyo ang nanay ko sa lihim ninyo, malalaman ko.”

Clarisse looked at her through tears.

For the first time, there was no jealousy in her eyes.

Only shame.

“Althea,” Clarisse whispered, “I don’t know everything. I swear.”

“Then help me find out.”

Clarisse opened her mouth, but no words came.

Nico looked at Althea. “You shouldn’t be dragged into this.”

“I already am.”

“This could be dangerous.”

She looked at him, eyes wet but steady. “Then stop deciding for me.”

That silenced him.

Not because he was offended.

Because she was right.

All her life, decisions had been made around her. For her. Against her. Clarisse invited her to the house for a selfish reason. Tita Maribel dismissed her as insignificant. Even Nico, with all his kindness, sometimes protected her as if she were too fragile to choose.

But Althea was done being moved like a piece on someone else’s board.

“Ano’ng gagawin natin?” Clarisse asked.

Nico looked at the clock.

It was only morning, yet the day already felt ruined beyond repair.

“I’ll meet Rafael tonight,” he said.

“No,” said Clarisse and Althea at the same time.

They looked at each other.

A strange silence passed between them.

Not friendship.

Not forgiveness.

But something like recognition.

They were both wounded by different versions of the same family.

“I’m going with you,” Clarisse said.

“So am I,” Althea added.

Nico shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Althea stepped closer. “He mentioned my mother. I’m going.”

Clarisse wiped her face. “He mentioned my child. I’m going.”

Tita Maribel’s voice cut through the room.

“No one is going anywhere.”

They all turned to her.

She stood tall again, or tried to. But the old command in her voice had cracks now.

“You will not meet that man,” she said. “You will not entertain his threats. You will not dig up things that were buried for a reason.”

Nico stared at her. “You don’t get to decide anymore.”

“I decide everything in this family.”

“Not tonight.”

Clarisse looked at her mother, and something final settled on her face.

“No, Mommy,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.”

Tita Maribel’s eyes widened.

For a moment, Althea saw it clearly: Clarisse had spent years becoming a smaller version of her mother. Same coldness. Same pride. Same cruelty disguised as elegance. But beneath all that was a woman who had never forgiven herself, never healed, never escaped.

Now, for the first time, she was standing against the very person who taught her how to hide.

Tita Maribel’s lips trembled with rage. “You will regret this.”

Clarisse looked broken, but firm.

“I already regret everything.”

The rest of the day passed like a held breath.

No one left the house.

No one ate properly.

Clarisse stayed in the guest sitting room, staring at old messages on her phone, searching for anything from Rafael, anything from the past that might help. Nico locked himself in his office for two hours, making calls in a low voice. Althea tried calling her mother’s old number, forgetting for one painful second that her mother had passed away years ago.

When she realized what she had done, she sat on the edge of the bed and cried.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just the quiet kind of crying that happens when the past touches you with cold hands.

She missed her mother.

She missed the certainty that, however poor or difficult their life had been, at least it had been honest.

Now even that felt uncertain.

At around eight in the evening, there was a knock on her door.

“Althea?”

Nico.

She wiped her face quickly. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly.

Nico stood outside, not entering until she nodded.

He looked tired, but controlled. He held a brown envelope in one hand.

“I found something,” he said.

She stood. “Ano?”

“Old financial records.” He placed the envelope on the desk. “Payments from Tita Maribel’s private account. One large withdrawal around the time Rafael mentioned.”

Althea’s throat tightened. “To my mother?”

“Not directly.”

He opened the envelope and pulled out a photocopy.

“The amount was withdrawn in cash. Same week your mother reportedly returned from Manila with money.”

She stared at the paper.

It was not proof.

But it was enough to reopen the ache.

“Nico,” she whispered, “what if my mother helped hide the child?”

He did not answer immediately.

That kindness—his refusal to lie—hurt more than any false comfort.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But if she did, there may be a reason.”

“A reason?” Her voice cracked. “What good reason could there be?”

“Maybe she was forced. Maybe she thought she was protecting the baby. Maybe she didn’t know everything.”

Althea looked at him through tears. “You keep trying to make it less painful.”

“I’m trying to keep you from blaming yourself for something that happened when you were young.”

“Hindi sarili ko ang sinisisi ko.”

“Then who?”

She looked down.

“My mother,” she whispered.

The words destroyed her.

Nico’s face softened. “Althea…”

“She was good,” Althea said, crying now. “She was poor, but she was good. She raised me with almost nothing, pero hindi siya madamot. Hindi siya cruel. Hindi siya kagaya nila.”

“I believe you.”

“Then why does it feel like she’s suddenly part of something ugly?”

Nico slowly stepped closer, but stopped before he was too near.

“Because secrets make everything look dirty,” he said. “Even the people who may have been trying to survive them.”

She closed her eyes.

A sob escaped her.

For once, she did not apologize.

Nico noticed.

So did she.

There was a moment between them—quiet, fragile, dangerous. He stood close enough for her to feel that he wanted to comfort her, but far enough to remind them both why he could not.

That distance hurt.

But it also saved them.

“Althea,” he said softly, “tonight, whatever Rafael says, don’t let him control what you believe about your mother.”

She looked up.

“And what about you?” she asked. “Will you let him control what you believe about yourself?”

Nico’s eyes shifted.

She knew she had touched something.

“You keep acting like everything that happened is your fault because you stayed,” she continued. “But they trapped you too.”

He looked away.

“I should have seen it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Her voice softened. “But being deceived is not the same as being guilty.”

For a moment, Nico looked at her as if she had given him something he did not know how to receive.

Then he said, “You see too much.”

She gave a sad smile. “People forget I’m in the corner. That’s where you see everything.”

His expression changed.

Not pity.

Admiration.

And that was far more dangerous.

Althea looked away quickly.

“We should go,” she said.

Nico nodded, but did not move immediately.

“About yesterday,” he said.

Her heart tightened.

“Nico, please.”

“I won’t say anything I shouldn’t.”

“You already did.”

“I know.”

They stood there, both carrying the memory of questions that should never have been asked.

“Whatever this is,” Nico said carefully, “I won’t use your pain to pull you closer.”

Her eyes filled again.

“That’s what scares me,” she whispered.

He frowned slightly. “What?”

“You’re trying so hard to do the right thing.” She looked at him. “And it makes it harder not to love you.”

The words escaped before she could stop them.

The room went completely still.

Althea’s face went pale.

Nico did not breathe.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.

Then Althea stepped back, horrified by herself.

“I didn’t mean—”

But she had.

And they both knew.

Nico closed his eyes, as if the confession hurt him physically.

“Althea.”

“No.” She shook her head, tears falling fast. “Forget I said that.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t.”

“Nico, please.”

He opened his eyes.

The pain in them was unbearable.

“I won’t act on it,” he said. “I won’t make you carry more guilt than you already do.”

She covered her mouth, trying to stop herself from crying harder.

“But don’t ask me to pretend I didn’t hear the truth,” he added.

A knock sounded at the door.

Both of them turned.

Clarisse stood there.

Althea felt the blood drain from her face.

Clarisse’s eyes were wet, but unreadable.

She had heard.

Maybe not all.

But enough.

For a moment, the three of them stood in silence: the wife, the husband, and the woman who never meant to become part of their ruin.

Althea expected rage.

A scream.

A slap.

But Clarisse only looked at her, exhausted.

“Rafael just texted again,” she said.

Her voice was hollow.

“He changed the meeting place.”

Nico’s jaw tightened. “Where?”

Clarisse lifted her phone.

“Not the chapel.”

She swallowed.

“He said we should go somewhere all of us remember.”

Althea frowned. “All of us?”

Clarisse looked at her.

Then at Nico.

Then back to Althea.

“The old Reyes house.”

Althea’s heart stopped.

Her childhood home.

The house her mother sold years ago after a sudden flood of debts and grief.

The house where Althea remembered her mother crying over a baby blanket.

Clarisse stepped closer and handed her the phone.

On the screen was Rafael’s message.

Ten o’clock. The old Reyes house. Bring Althea. She deserves to see where her mother hid the child.

Althea felt the floor disappear beneath her.

Nico reached for her instinctively but stopped before touching her.

Clarisse saw it.

This time, she said nothing.

Outside, thunder rolled across the night.

And for Althea, the past was no longer a memory.

It was a door.

And Rafael Sandoval had just opened it.