"How... how could you not tell us?" I finally managed to choke out, my voice trembling. "All these years, we believed... I believed..."

Dad's eyes met mine, filled with a sadness that seemed to echo the pain I felt. "I thought it was better this way. You could all hate me and it wouldn't kill me. Ang mahalaga ay napprotektahan ko kayo—"

"No, Dad. Hindi mo ako pinrotektahan! Sinaktan mo ako. You should've told me the truth when I demanded it! Instead you made me believe you were a monster! I hated you for so long. And for what? Pati ikaw ay nasaktan!"

Mommy's tears flowed freely, her voice breaking. "We were wrong to keep it from you. We thought we were sparing you the pain, but we only created more suffering. Your dad... he's been through so much, and all he wanted was to keep us safe. Hindi lang ikaw, hindi lang kayo ang nahihirapan, Caice."

I felt a wave of guilt crash over me, so powerful it nearly took my breath away. The years of resentment and anger, the harsh words and cold shoulders—it all seemed so misguided now. My dad had been trying to protect us, and in doing so, he had become a martyr in our eyes. Every cold stare I had thrown his way, every bitter word I had spoken, suddenly felt like a weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"He wasn't the chaos because he was in there too,"

I remembered all the times I had looked at him with disdain, my heart filled with a righteous fury. I had been so sure of his guilt, so convinced that he was the villain in our story. Every argument, every tearful confrontation, flashed before my eyes, now tinged with the painful realization of how wrong I had been. He had stood there, taking it all, absorbing our anger and hurt without a word of defense, choosing instead to bear the burden in silence.

In those moments of anger, I had painted him as a monster, a man capable of the worst kind of betrayal. But now, seeing him through the lens of the truth my mother had just revealed, he was no longer the villain. He was a man who had made difficult choices, sacrificing his own peace and reputation to shield us from a harsh reality. His silence had been his way of protecting us, a misguided but deeply loving act.

Ngayon ay naiintindihan ko na kung paanong nakuha ni Mommy na manatili lamang sa tabi niya. Kung paano hindi siya umalis. Kung paanong patuloy niyang minahal si Dad gamit ang lahat ng lakas na meron siya.

The realization hit me hard: my dad had endured years of our misplaced anger, living with the knowledge that his own family saw him as a traitor. He had done it all out of love, a love so profound that he had willingly become the scapegoat for sins he did not commit. The enormity of his sacrifice was staggering, and it made my earlier judgments seem petty and cruel.

"Dad..." Hindi ko na namalayan pa ang walang tigil na buhos ng luha mula sa aking mga mata.

Binitawan ni Hans ang aking kamay at nang lingunin ko siya ay maaliwalas ang kaniyang anyo. I remembered when he told me that he stopped feeling anything but love. Iyon rin ang gusto kong gawin. Gusto ko nang lumaya. Gusto ko na ng kapayapaan.

Tumayo ako at lumapit sa kinaroroonan ni Dad. I did not waste time throwing myself in his arms. I cried... I cried hard. I had spent so long seeing him as the enemy, never realizing that he was the one holding us together.

My father hugged me back, stroking my hair gently. "I'm so sorry, Caice," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted you to suffer because of my choices."

"I'm sorry too, Dad," I sobbed, clutching him tighter. "For everything... for all the years I wasted hating you."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. "It's never too late to start over, anak. Ang mahalaga ay natuto tayo sa mga pagkakamali at nagpatawad. Love and forgiveness—they are the keys to peace."

Mom, who had been watching us with tears in her eyes, stepped closer and pulled something from her necklace. It was the ring I had sold for a phone call a long time ago—the ring my father gave me when I was seven.

"How... how did you get this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mom smiled softly, placing the ring in my hand. "Tinubos iyan ng Uncle Roy mo at ibinalik sa amin. He, too, had hoped that someday you would find it in your heart to forgive us. Uuwi ka rin sa amin ng daddy mo. At pinanghawakan ko iyon, Caice. Hindi ako nawalan ng pag-asa."

I looked at the ring, then back at my parents, feeling a profound sense of closure. We had come full circle, and now, finally, there was room for healing.

We stayed longer with my parents, catching up on lost time and mending the frayed edges of our family bonds. My dad made a noticeable effort to accommodate Hans, engaging him in conversations about his work and asking about our plans for the future. It was evident that he was trying his best to bridge the gap, and for that, I was deeply grateful.

Hans met my father's efforts with kindness and respect. Watching them, I felt a sense of contentment settle in my heart. This was the beginning of something new—something better. We were all trying, and that was what mattered most.

As the evening wore on, laughter and stories filled the air, making the house feel warm and alive. Mom looked healthier and happier than I had seen her in a long time, her cheeks flushed with joy as she chatted animatedly with Hans. Dad's eyes softened whenever he looked at her.

Husto na kaming ginabi sa pag-uwi. Doon na nga kami pinapatulog ni Mommy kaya lang ako ang tumanggi. Mas gusto kong umuwi kami ni Hans.

As we drove home, I leaned my head against Hans's shoulder, feeling a sense of peace I hadn't felt in years. The road ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time, it didn't scare me. I had Hans, and I had my family. We would face whatever came our way together.

Everything in my life had led me to this moment—the struggles, the heartache, the misunderstandings. They had all been pieces of a puzzle, slowly coming together to form a picture of resilience and love.

I thought of the years of resentment I had harbored against my father, the walls I had built to protect myself from the pain of betrayal. Those walls had crumbled today, revealing the truth and the strength of my family's love. My dad had made mistakes, but he had also sacrificed so much for us. His actions were driven by love, even when they were misunderstood.

And then there was Hans—my rock, my anchor. His unwavering support and love had been a beacon of hope, guiding me through the darkest times. He had shown me the true meaning of forgiveness and the power of love to heal even the deepest wounds.

From now on, I would not let hate and anger dictate my life. I would choose love, even when it was hard. I would choose compassion, even when it was painful. And I would choose forgiveness, even when it seemed impossible. Because in the end, it was these choices that made life worth living, that brought beauty to the world and meaning to our existence.

"This is it right?" Nilingon ko siya, hindi makapaniwalang natapos na ang lahat.

Hans smiled gently, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "Ito na ang bahaghari..."