Chapter 1 - Three Hundred Pesos
Four days after my C-section, my husband left me outside the hospital with our newborn and three hundred pesos.
His mother got the luxury SUV.
I got instructions not to embarrass him.
“Mom needs a quiet ride,” Marco said, pressing the bills into my palm. “The crying makes her carsick.”
I stared at him.
Mateo slept against my chest, his mouth open, one tiny hand caught in the edge of his blanket.
“He isn’t crying.”
“He will.”
Behind Marco, the passenger window slid down.
Donya Teresa adjusted her sunglasses.
“Don’t argue in this heat, Julia. You’ll upset the baby.”
The baby she refused to share a car with.
I had spent two and a half million pesos on that SUV before our wedding. I remembered signing the paperwork, proud that years of saving had finally bought something solid.
Now my mother-in-law sat in its air-conditioned front seat while sweat ran beneath my blouse and my incision burned.
“Please,” I said. “Just help me into the back.”
Marco glanced at his mother.
That small movement hurt more than his answer.
“You know how to commute. Take a jeepney. Or a taxi.”
“I had surgery four days ago.”
“And you’ve been cleared to leave.”
He said it like I had finished shopping.
I shifted Mateo higher. Pain cut across my stomach, sharp enough to steal my breath.
Marco noticed.
He looked away.
“Don’t make a scene.”
Then he turned, climbed behind the wheel, and locked the doors.
I stood beside the SUV long enough to see the empty infant car seat through the rear window.
Our son’s seat.
They were taking that, too.
The vehicle pulled away.
For a moment, I watched the red taillights shrink into traffic.
Then I folded the three bills and put them in my bag.
I would need to remember this clearly.
Not the version Marco would tell later.
This one.
I took out my phone and called my father.
Don Gabriel answered on the second ring.
“Julia? How’s my grandson? Are you on your way to the house?”
“Papa, we’re still outside the hospital.”
Something in my voice silenced him.
“Where is Marco?”
“With his mother. In my SUV.”
My father let me finish.
Then I said the words that would end the life I had spent two years trying to protect.
“Please have the legal team gather the papers for the house, the SUV, and Marco’s position at the company.”
“Are you somewhere safe?”
“Not yet.”
“Go back inside. I’m coming.”
May you like
As I turned toward the hospital doors, a security guard hurried over.
“Ma’am,” he said gently, “your husband told us you were waiting for your own driver.”
