As usual, the house was empty when I arrived. I sighed and headed straight to my room.
It was only five. Dad wouldn't be home until around eight. I texted Yashina, asking if she could come with me to the mall. She said she was free, so I grabbed my things and jumped into the shower.
We decided to meet at the entrance. I offered to pick her up, but she said she had to make a quick stop, so I let it go.
I arrived early and stood off to the side, not wanting to block the path. A few people glanced my way—maybe wondering why I was just standing there alone. I ignored them and kept my eyes on my phone.
To pass the time, I messaged Jhay to play Call of Duty. Surprisingly, he agreed right away and even invited Mia. Within minutes, they were trash-talking everyone like they were playing a tournament.
Just as our match ended, a text came through from Yashina.
Yashina: Just got off the jeep.
Perfect timing.
I stood up and waved when I saw her jogging toward me.
"Sorry, traffic was insane," she said, catching her breath. I smiled and shook my head.
"No problem."
We went straight to National Bookstore. While I browsed through supplies, she wandered off and came back holding a bunch of balloons.
"Isn't your anniversary on Monday?" she asked, grinning.
I smiled. "Yup. That's why we're here."
She gave me a teasing look. I laughed and ignored it, asking her opinion on decorations.
Honestly, I had no idea what I wanted. Everything I thought of felt too cliché. Thankfully, Yashina took over, picking things out and even volunteering to help me set everything up.
She was the best.
We ended up spending over an hour in the store. By the time we made it to the food court, it was already past seven. I wasn't in a rush. Going home meant possibly running into Dad—and another argument.
As we sat down with our food, I remembered something.
"How's Lola Andeng and Salome?" I asked. I hadn't visited in months.
"Same as always," she said. "Still a little ball of energy."
I laughed. "That's why I love kids."
Being an only child made me crave that kind of chaos. I used to wish for a sibling, but after the divorce... well, I knew that wasn't going to happen.
When we finished eating, I offered to drive her home. I wanted to see Lola and Salome too—but they were already asleep when we arrived.
Just as I was about to head back, my phone started buzzing. Over and over.
Dad.
I declined the call, annoyed. I'm already on my way home. What's the point of calling?
I played with my keys as I walked up the steps. But I stopped short the moment I saw people in the living room.
I rolled my eyes and shut the door harder than I meant to. I turned to go upstairs, not in the mood for guests, when I heard her voice.
"Hija, good thing you're home." I froze.
Tita Cheska was smiling at me, seated comfortably on our couch like she belonged there.
A chill ran down my spine as she reached for my arm. I pulled away instantly. She didn't flinch. If anything, her smile only widened.
"Don't call me 'Tita' anymore," she said sweetly.
I blinked. She turned to my dad, clinging to his arm like she'd rehearsed it.
"We're engaged," she said, lifting her hand to show off a diamond ring big enough to blind me. My heart dropped.
I looked at my dad. He was already looking at me—waiting for my reaction.
"Congrats," I said, my voice barely holding steady. "I'll head upstairs now."
I looked at her. Then at him. Then smiled—tight, polite, empty. I turned and walked away.
Each step up the stairs made my throat tighter. By the time I reached the top, my eyes were already burning. A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
I remembered sitting at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a blanket. The living room lights were still on, and Dad's voice floated up in hushed, tense tones.
"She's always asleep when I get home," he said. "What do you want me to do, quit my job?"
"She's asleep because it's midnight, Vicente," my mom snapped. "You miss dinner every night."
Dad didn't reply. I didn't understand much of it at the time. I just knew they weren't laughing the way they used to.
The night Mom left, I didn't cry.
I just stood by the doorway, clutching my stuffed elephant while Mom packed her things. She looked tired. Not angry—just exhausted in a way that made her seem smaller.
Dad didn't try to stop her. They didn't even fight that night.
"I'm tired of being alone, even when you're here," Mom whispered. "You're a good father to her. But I need a partner."
I blinked up at the ceiling, trying not to cry with those memories.
I wasn't mad at him for the divorce. I was old enough now to understand that some people grow apart.
But I thought—after all of it—he'd keep us in mind. I thought I'd still be his person. But tonight, when he stood behind Tita Cheska, silent as she declared herself family... he looked like a man who had already moved on.
From her. From us. From me.
I lay in bed, eyes wide open. The air felt heavier tonight. And for the first time in years, I wished my mom had taken me with her.
It wasn't one big moment. It was a slow fade. I was fifteen when I started noticing it.
He stopped making breakfast on Sundays. He used to ask if I wanted pancakes or waffles. Then one day, he didn't ask at all—just left early and came back late.
No note. No explanation.
At first, I thought it was just a one-time thing. Work must've called. But it happened again the next weekend. And the one after that.
I remember my birthday that year. He asked me what I wanted—like he always did—and I told him I didn't need a gift. I just wanted to go out to dinner. Just the two of us. Like before.
He agreed. But that night, he came home past ten. The restaurant had already closed. He said he'd gotten held up at a client meeting and forgot to reschedule.
"I'm sorry, Mace. We'll go next weekend, okay?"
We never did.
Then came the small things. He stopped asking how my day was. Stopped remembering the names of my classmates or the clubs I joined.
He used to tell me I was his star. His "brilliant girl." But eventually, all I got was: "You're still doing okay in school, right?"
And the worst part? He didn't even seem to notice the change.
He wasn't cruel. He wasn't angry. He just... started living around me instead of with me.
Like we were just roommates. Like I was someone else's kid he was only responsible for feeding.