Ang Lihim Kong Pag-ibig sa Asawa ng Pinsan Ko
Chapter 7

Ang Presyo ng Pag-ibig

Hindi na sana muling babalik si Althea sa bahay na iyon.

Sa isip niya, matagal na niyang isinara ang pinto ng lumang tahanan nila. Matagal na niyang inilibing sa alaala ang amoy ng lumang kahoy, ang kalampag ng yero kapag umuulan, ang malamlam na ilaw sa sala, at ang bintanang minsang pinagmamasdan niya habang hinihintay ang inang umuwi mula sa trabahong hindi nito kailanman ikinuwento nang buo.

Ngunit nang gabing iyon, habang papalapit ang sasakyan ni Nico sa lumang kalsada papunta sa dating bahay ng mga Reyes, pakiramdam ni Althea ay hindi siya bumabalik sa nakaraan.

Pakiramdam niya, ang nakaraan ang humihila sa kanya pabalik.

Nasa passenger seat si Clarisse, tahimik, yakap ang sariling mga braso. Si Nico ang nagmamaneho, mahigpit ang kapit sa manibela. Si Althea naman ay nasa likod, nakatingin sa labas ng bintana, pinipilit kilalanin ang mga lugar na minsang naging buong mundo niya.

Ang tindahan sa kanto ay sarado na.

Ang dating puno ng santol ay wala na.

Ang daang dati niyang nilalakaran pauwi mula eskuwela ay mas makitid na sa paningin niya ngayon, mas madilim, mas puno ng mga multong hindi niya kayang pangalanan.

“Sure ka ba na kaya mo?” tanong ni Nico mula sa harap.

Hindi siya agad sumagot.

Hindi niya alam kung para sa kanya ba iyon o para sa sarili nito.

“Kailangan kong kayanin,” sagot niya sa huli.

Tumingin si Clarisse sa side mirror. Saglit na nagtagpo ang kanilang mga mata.

May pagod sa mukha ng pinsan niya. May hiya rin. Ngunit sa ilalim ng lahat ng iyon, may takot na mas matanda kaysa gabing iyon.

“Althea,” mahinang sabi ni Clarisse, “kung may malaman ka tungkol sa nanay mo…”

“Huwag,” putol ni Althea.

Natigilan si Clarisse.

“Wala kang karapatang ihanda ako sa sakit,” dagdag ni Althea, hindi itinaas ang boses, pero bawat salita ay puno ng sugat. “Lalo na kung pamilya mo ang may gawa.”

Clarisse lowered her eyes.

Hindi siya sumagot.

At iyon ang mas mabigat kaysa anumang palusot.

Tumigil ang sasakyan sa harap ng lumang bakuran.

Matagal na palang hindi naaalagaan ang bahay.

Ang bakod ay kalawangin na. Ang gate ay bahagyang nakabukas, tila matagal nang walang nagmamay-ari. Makapal ang damo sa paligid. Ang dating maliit na hardin ng nanay ni Althea ay halos lamunin na ng ligaw na halaman. Ang bintana sa sala ay may lamat, at ang pinto ay nakasara ngunit hindi nakakandado.

Sa ilalim ng dilaw na ilaw ng poste, nakatayo si Rafael Sandoval.

Mas matanda ito kaysa inaasahan ni Althea, ngunit may tindig pa rin ng lalaking minsang sanay makuha ang gusto. Matangkad, payat, may bahid ng pagod sa mukha, ngunit matalim ang mga mata. Basa ang laylayan ng suot nitong jacket, at hawak nito ang isang lumang envelope na kulay brown.

Hindi ito mukhang baliw.

Mas nakakatakot.

Mukha itong taong matagal nang naghihintay ng tamang sandali para maningil.

Bumaba si Nico sa sasakyan. Sumunod si Clarisse. Si Althea ang huling lumabas, nanlalamig ang mga kamay.

Ngumiti si Rafael nang makita siya.

“Althea Reyes,” sabi nito. “You look like your mother.”

Parang may kamay na pumisil sa lalamunan niya.

“Huwag mong babanggitin ang nanay ko na parang kilala mo siya,” sagot ni Althea.

Mas lumawak ang ngiti ni Rafael. “Pero kilala ko siya.”

Nico stepped forward. “Enough games. Why are we here?”

Tiningnan siya ni Rafael. “Still impatient, Nico? Or just scared?”

“Nasaan ang bata?” tanong ni Nico.

“Ah.” Rafael nodded slowly. “The child. Funny how everyone suddenly remembers her now.”

Clarisse flinched. “Rafael, please.”

Humarap ito kay Clarisse.

Sa ilang segundo, nagbago ang mukha niya. Nawala ang pang-uuyam. Lumitaw ang isang uri ng sakit na hindi rin lubos na mapagkakatiwalaan.

“You cried the night they took her,” sabi niya. “Do you remember?”

Clarisse’s lips trembled. “Every day.”

“Not enough to look for her.”

Clarisse lowered her head.

Nico’s voice hardened. “You don’t get to punish her if you also left.”

Rafael laughed bitterly. “You think I left willingly?”

Katahimikan.

Althea looked at him.

“What happened?” she asked.

Rafael turned to her. “Your aunt happened.”

“Tita Maribel?”

“Maribel Monteverde had two talents,” Rafael said. “Buying silence and destroying anyone who refused to be bought.”

Mula sa loob ng bahay, may kumalabog.

Lahat sila napalingon.

The front door creaked open.

Lumabas si Tita Maribel.

Suot pa rin nito ang eleganteng damit, ngunit wala na ang perpektong ayos niya. Magulo ang buhok nito. Maputla ang mukha. At sa kamay nito ay hawak ang isang maliit na itim na bag.

“How predictable,” sabi ni Rafael. “You followed them.”

Tita Maribel lifted her chin. “I came to stop this madness.”

“No,” sagot ni Rafael. “You came because you’re afraid of what’s inside that house.”

Althea’s chest tightened.

“Ano’ng nasa loob?” tanong niya.

Rafael looked at her.

“Memory.”

Hindi na naghintay si Rafael. Tumalikod ito at pumasok sa lumang bahay.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then Althea walked forward.

Nico reached out instinctively. His hand hovered near her arm but did not touch.

“Althea.”

She looked at him.

“Pumasok ako,” sabi niya. “Kahit ano pa ang makita ko.”

Nico nodded slowly.

“I’m with you.”

Maliit na pangungusap lang iyon.

Pero narinig ni Clarisse.

At sa mukha nito, nakita ni Althea ang hapdi.

Hindi selos lamang.

Mas malalim.

Pagkaunawa.

Dahil sa paraan ng pagkakasabi ni Nico, hindi iyon simpleng pangako ng proteksyon.

Iyon ang klase ng linyang sinasabi ng isang taong handang manatili kahit may panganib.

At hindi na iyon kay Clarisse nakalaan.

Pumasok sila sa loob ng bahay.

Sinalubong sila ng amoy ng alikabok, lumang kahoy, at ulan na matagal nang sumingit sa bitak ng bubong. Madilim ang loob, tanging flashlight ng cellphone ni Nico ang nagbibigay liwanag. Sa bawat hakbang ni Althea, may alaalang bumabalik.

Doon sa sulok, dati siyang gumagawa ng assignment.

Sa tabi ng bintana, dati nakaupo ang nanay niya habang nananahi.

Sa maliit na altar, dati silang nagdarasal kapag wala silang pambayad ng kuryente.

At sa gitna ng sala, nakita niya sa isip ang batang bersyon niya, nakatayo, hawak ang kumot, habang umiiyak ang nanay niya sa kuwarto.

“Dito,” sabi ni Rafael.

Dinala sila nito sa likod ng bahay, sa lumang silid na dating bodega.

Kinabahan si Althea.

“Noon,” bulong niya, “bawal akong pumasok dito.”

Rafael looked at her. “For a reason.”

Binuksan nito ang lumang ilaw. Kumurap-kurap iyon, saka nagbigay ng mahinang dilaw na liwanag.

Halos walang laman ang bodega. Ilang sirang kahon. Lumang silya. Basag na aparador.

Rafael lumuhod malapit sa sahig at itinuro ang bahagi ng kahoy na tila iba ang kulay.

“Your mother hid things better than Maribel thought.”

Tita Maribel stepped forward. “Rafael, do not.”

But Nico blocked her path.

“Let him.”

Rafael removed a loose plank.

Sa ilalim niyon, may maliit na kahong metal.

Kinabahan si Althea habang pinagmamasdan niya itong buksan.

Sa loob ay may ilang lumang litrato, isang maliit na kumot na kulay dilaw, at mga dokumentong nakabalot sa plastic.

Nang makita ang kumot, Clarisse gasped.

“Hindi…” Lumapit siya nang nanginginig. “That’s hers.”

Rafael’s jaw tightened.

“Yes.”

Clarisse took the blanket slowly, pressing it to her chest as if the child might still be inside it.

Napaluha siya nang walang tunog.

Althea watched her cousin break in silence.

At kahit galit siya rito, kahit nasaktan siya, hindi niya kayang hindi maawa.

Dahil sa sandaling iyon, hindi niya nakita ang babaeng nangmata sa kanya buong buhay niya.

Nakita niya ang isang ina na matagal nang pinagkaitan ng anak.

Rafael handed the documents to Nico.

“Read.”

Nico opened them.

Althea moved closer.

The first document was a birth certificate.

The child’s name was visible now.

Mara Clarisse Monteverde.

Mother: Clarisse Monteverde.

Father: blank.

Clarisse sobbed.

Nico’s face tightened as he turned to the next paper.

It was not an adoption certificate.

It was a guardianship agreement.

Althea frowned. “Hindi adoption?”

Rafael shook his head. “No. Maribel wanted everyone to think the child was adopted. But your mother refused to sign adoption papers.”

Althea turned to him.

“My mother?”

Rafael looked at her gently now. “Your mother took the child temporarily.”

Hindi siya makahinga.

“What?”

“After Clarisse gave birth, Maribel planned to give the baby away permanently. Your mother was working for the Monteverdes then—part-time cleaning, errands, whatever work she could get. She heard enough. Saw enough.” Rafael glanced at Tita Maribel with disgust. “She begged Maribel not to abandon the baby.”

Althea’s eyes filled with tears.

“No…”

“She said if Clarisse couldn’t care for the child, she would take her until things settled.”

Nanginginig na binasa ni Nico ang susunod na dokumento.

His voice was low.

“Temporary guardianship granted to… Elena Reyes.”

Althea’s mother.

The room blurred.

Althea sat down on an old wooden chair before her knees could fail.

“Hindi niya ako sinabihan,” she whispered.

“She couldn’t,” Rafael said. “You were young. And Maribel made sure your mother understood the cost of talking.”

Tita Maribel snapped, “I protected my daughter.”

Althea looked up at her.

“No. My mother protected a child.”

Tita Maribel’s eyes hardened. “Your mother was paid.”

“Because you forced her into silence!” Rafael barked.

The room shook with his voice.

Althea wiped her tears with trembling hands. “Nasaan si Mara ngayon?”

No one answered immediately.

Clarisse looked up from the blanket. “Mara,” she whispered, as if saying the name for the first time in years.

Rafael opened another envelope.

“Elena kept the child for almost a year.”

Althea’s breath caught.

A year.

There had been a child in their house?

She searched her memories desperately. She had been very young. Maybe five. Maybe six. There were fragments—soft crying at night, her mother singing lullabies behind a closed door, a baby blanket, a small bottle near the sink.

She had thought it was for a neighbor’s baby.

Or maybe, over the years, she had convinced herself it was a dream.

“What happened after a year?” Nico asked.

Rafael looked at Tita Maribel. “Maribel found out Elena was trying to contact me.”

Tita Maribel looked away.

Rafael continued. “Your mother wanted me to take my daughter. But by then, Maribel had already told me the baby was gone. Adopted. Far away. She told me Clarisse wanted nothing to do with us.”

Clarisse shook her head, devastated. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Rafael said.

The softness in his voice vanished quickly.

“But knowing that now doesn’t return the years.”

“What happened to Mara?” Althea asked, louder now.

Rafael swallowed.

“Your mother placed her with a family she trusted. Not formal adoption. Not legal surrender. She was trying to keep the child safe.”

“Which family?”

Rafael’s eyes shifted.

“That’s the part I don’t know.”

Althea stood, anger rising through the fear. “You brought us here and you don’t know?”

“I know where to start.” Rafael lifted one final paper. “Elena wrote a name.”

He handed it to Althea.

The paper was old, folded many times.

She opened it carefully.

In her mother’s handwriting, faded but unmistakable, were a few lines:

*Kapag dumating ang araw na kailangan nilang malaman, hanapin ninyo si Celia Dizon sa San Isidro. Siya lang ang nakakaalam kung nasaan ang bata. Patawarin mo ako, Althea. Ginawa ko ito para iligtas siya.*

Tears fell onto the paper.

Her mother had written her name.

Not as an accomplice.

Not as a liar.

As someone asking forgiveness for a burden Althea never knew she would inherit.

Nico stood beside her, silent.

Clarisse slowly approached.

“Althea,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Althea looked at her.

The apology was real.

But real apologies do not erase real damage.

“Hindi pa sapat ang sorry,” Althea said.

Clarisse nodded, crying. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Althea’s voice broke. “You spent years looking at me like I was beneath you. Pinatira mo ako sa bahay mo para gamitin sa kasal mo. Pinaghinalaan mo ako. Pinalayas mo ako. And now I find out my mother carried your secret because your family was too proud to carry the truth.”

Clarisse covered her mouth.

Althea stepped closer.

“Kung buhay si Mara, hahanapin natin siya. Hindi para linisin ang pangalan mo. Hindi para patawarin ka niya. Hindi para ayusin ang kasal ninyo. Hahanapin natin siya dahil karapatan niyang malaman kung sino siya.”

Clarisse nodded through tears. “Yes.”

Tita Maribel laughed bitterly.

“You are all fools.”

Everyone turned to her.

“You think finding that child will heal anything?” she asked. “You think she will thank you? You think she will run into your arms, Clarisse, and call you mother?”

Clarisse flinched.

Tita Maribel continued, cruel and precise. “She will hate you. She will hate all of you. And she will be right.”

Nico’s voice was cold. “That is not your decision to make.”

Tita Maribel looked at him. “You always did love pretending to be righteous.”

“No,” Nico said. “I loved believing this family had a conscience.”

Rafael folded his arms. “It never did.”

Tita Maribel turned to him. “And you? You want to play father now? After years of blackmail?”

Rafael’s face darkened.

“I looked for her.”

“You drank. You gambled. You threatened. You disappeared.”

His jaw tightened.

“Yes,” he said. “I became ugly. But at least I did not steal a child and call it protection.”

The room was silent again.

Too many sins.

Too many victims.

Too many people who had hurt others because they themselves had been wounded.

Then suddenly, from outside, came the sound of a car door closing.

Nico turned sharply.

“Did anyone follow us?”

No one answered.

Another sound.

Footsteps outside.

Then a woman’s voice called from the front of the house.

“Rafael?”

Rafael’s face changed.

Not fear.

Shock.

He rushed out of the bodega.

The others followed.

At the doorway stood an older woman, thin, gray-haired, holding an umbrella with shaking hands.

Rafael froze. “Celia?”

Althea’s heart pounded.

Celia Dizon.

The name from her mother’s note.

The woman looked at all of them, then at Althea.

“You’re Elena’s daughter,” she said.

Althea nodded, unable to speak.

Celia’s eyes filled with tears.

“I knew this day would come.”

Clarisse stepped forward, trembling. “Nasaan ang anak ko?”

Celia looked at her.

The silence before her answer was unbearable.

“She’s alive.”

Clarisse almost collapsed.

Nico held the back of a chair, stunned.

Rafael closed his eyes.

Althea pressed the note to her chest.

“She’s alive,” Clarisse repeated, crying.

Celia nodded slowly. “But she does not know any of you.”

“Where is she?” Rafael asked.

Celia looked away.

“I promised Elena I would protect her first.”

Althea stepped forward. “My mother trusted you?”

“She saved that child,” Celia said. “And she paid for it.”

“What do you mean?”

Celia’s face filled with sorrow.

“Your mother did not sell this house because of debt, Althea. She sold it because Maribel threatened to take you away if she kept helping Mara.”

Althea staggered.

Nico moved toward her, but she raised a hand.

Not because she did not need him.

Because if he touched her now, she might break completely.

“My mother lost our home because of this?” she whispered.

Celia nodded.

“She chose you. And she chose Mara. She tried to save both.”

Althea closed her eyes.

All these years, she had thought her mother was simply unlucky. Poor. Tired. Beaten down by life.

Now she saw something else.

Her mother had been brave in a world that punished poor women for having a conscience.

Tita Maribel’s voice cut through the moment.

“Enough lies.”

Celia looked at her with disgust. “You have no power here anymore.”

Tita Maribel’s eyes flashed. “You think so?”

Before anyone could react, she pulled something from her bag.

A small recorder.

She raised it in her hand.

“I came prepared,” she said.

Nico stiffened. “What is that?”

“Insurance.”

Rafael stepped forward. “Give that to me.”

“No.” Tita Maribel’s voice trembled now, but she smiled. “If any of you expose this, I expose everything too.”

Clarisse stared at her mother. “What are you talking about?”

Tita Maribel looked at Althea.

Then at Nico.

Then at Clarisse.

“You think the only scandal here is Mara?”

A terrible cold spread through Althea’s body.

Tita Maribel pressed a button.

A recorded voice filled the room.

It was Elena Reyes.

Althea’s mother.

*Maribel, please. Hindi ko na kaya. Kapag nalaman ni Althea balang araw—*

Then Tita Maribel’s younger voice answered:

*Hindi niya malalaman. At kung magsalita ka, sisiguraduhin kong wala kang anak na maiiwan sa’yo.*

Althea covered her mouth.

The recording continued.

Elena’s voice trembled.

*Hindi kasalanan ng bata. Hindi rin kasalanan ni Althea.*

Then another voice.

A man.

Young.

Panicked.

Rafael.

I’ll take my daughter. Just tell me where she is.

Then Elena again:

Hindi puwede. Hindi pa. May mga taong nanonood. Kapag kinuha mo siya ngayon, mamamatay kayong pareho.

Rafael turned pale.

“What does that mean?” Nico asked.

Celia whispered, “Elena knew someone else was involved.”

Tita Maribel shut off the recorder.

Clarisse stared at her mother. “Sino?”

Tita Maribel smiled, broken and bitter.

“You really think I did all of this alone?”

The room went still.

Before anyone could ask, headlights swept across the broken windows.

Another car had arrived outside.

This time, heavier.

More formal.

Tita Maribel’s smile faded.

Celia whispered, almost in terror, “No…”

Nico moved toward the window.

A man stepped out of the car.

Older. Distinguished. Wearing a dark coat despite the humid night. His hair was silver now, but his presence still carried old authority.

Clarisse’s face drained of color.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

Althea looked at her, stunned.

Clarisse’s father had supposedly died years ago.

But the man standing outside the old Reyes house was very much alive.

And beside him stood a young woman in her early twenties.

Simple clothes.

Long dark hair.

A face that looked painfully familiar.

Clarisse stopped breathing.

Rafael whispered, “Mara.”

The young woman looked at them all with cold, guarded eyes.

Then she spoke.

“Which one of you is my mother?”

And just like that, every secret they had been chasing came home.