Chapter 15

WRIGHT AGONCILLO

My hands were folded as I walked toward my car. I was disgusted with myself because I could do nothing. I was the wrong one. I was the one to blame. I was the scared one. I couldn't bear the pain in my fist because of hitting the wall earlier, but it was even more painful to see that my family was happy with that doctor. I just couldn't get close to them now because it might get messy.

I opened my car and quickly got in. I gripped the steering wheel tightly. What did I need to do for my family to forgive me?

I looked at a church as I drove by and turned into the parking lot. I hadn't talked to Him in years, so maybe my life was like this because I had forgotten Him.

I got out of the car and immediately put on my dark glasses so no one would recognize me. I couldn’t pray properly if there were so many people around me. I entered through the church's large doors.

I saw the priest bowing in the middle of the altar. We were the only two people here.

I approached him and removed my shades to pay homage. "Father."

"Oh, son, what can be served—" His eyes narrowed, and he adjusted his glasses. "Wait. Are you Wright Agoncillo?"

I put my index finger in front of my lip as if saying, ‘Don’t say that louder.’

Father nodded and smiled. "Ah. What can I serve you, son?"

"I want to confess, Father," I said politely.

"Come on, let’s go to the confession."

I followed him. He entered through a confessional door. I opened another door and entered the booth. I sat in the chair placed in the corner. It was a little small inside, and it was warm. But I didn't care anymore—it was time for me to ask Him for help.

"What will you confess, son?" the Father asked. I could only hear his voice. I couldn’t see him because there was a thin screen blocking the two of us.

Where should I start?

"I met a woman seven years ago. I flirted with her not because I loved her but because I wanted to show my ex-girlfriend that I'd moved on. Yes, I used her." With every word I uttered, more memories began flooding my mind. "We'd been together for a few months. One day, I heard that my ex had broken up with her boyfriend. I went to Cebu to confirm that. She came back to me, and I accepted her again. I came back to Manila to break up with the woman I used as a rebound."

I pause for a moment as I started to feel heavier.

"You may continue, son," the Father encouraged me.

"But she said that she was pregnant, and the child was mine." My voice was difficult. It was as if I could see Melissa in front of me again—could see the pain in her eyes because she could not accept my decision. I closed my eyes, and tears trickled down my cheeks. "I said to abort the child because I couldn't afford to take care of them, and I was not ready to be a father. That I'd give her money for an abortion because it cost less than raising a child."

I leaned my head against the screen. I swallowed several times to calm myself down. At times like this, I felt like I was going to have a breakdown.

"Why was that your decision, son?" said the Father. "Were you afraid of responsibility?"

"Not of responsibility, Father." One hand combed my hair. "I was afraid of the child's future."

"Why?"

"When I returned to Manila, Mama told me that our company was sinking. And it was unstoppable because the investors had started to pull out of all their shares. They said they no longer trusted Papa to bring the company back to life. Little by little, he was able to lose all our land and assets to gambling. Almost every day, bankers were coming to our house. " I remembered the times when Mama cried because of what Papa was doing to her life, to our lives. "I didn't know what future I could give the child. I didn't want to see him begging, I didn't want to see him thin because we had nothing to eat, I didn't want to see him sleeping under the bridge or at the side of the road. I was afraid he'd blame me when he grew up. "

"You have to overcome fear, son," the Father said softly to me. "Did you ask the Lord for help?"

"That's another one of my sins, Father." I looked up. "I forgot about Him and paid more attention to the future. I needed to rebuild our company. My girlfriend and I left the country to avoid scandal. We changed our lives there, and we created our band in America. I was able to save money to rebuild my new business. It took us three years before we finally reached success. I tried to go home to the Philippines to meet the woman I used, but life is cruel. Papa got sick, and Mama didn't want to let me go home because Papa needed me. Papa fought cancer for four years before he finally died.”

"What happened to your son?" the Father asked gently.

A sad smile stretched my lips as I remembered the first time I saw Reid. He looked exactly like me when I was his age. And when he looked into my eyes, it was as if my blood was suddenly boiling. There seemed to be some force pushing me to embrace him.

“He is alive, Father. He is now six years old.” The back of my palm wiped the tears on my cheek. “My sin is so great, Father. Can He still forgive me?”

"Son..." he said. “No matter how great our sin, He will forgive us. God's love for us is eternal. Surrender to Him, son. He has forgiven you.”

"Thank you very much." I took a deep breath and felt relieved that all my suffering was released.

We left the confession room. I snatched a handkerchief from my pants pocket and wiped the sweat that had appeared on my forehead and neck. I smiled, held out my hand to Father, and waved to him. He placed his other hand on my head.

"Son, do what you think is right. Go home and fix your family. Then, God will guide you," he said softly.

I stood up straight and nodded at him. "Thank you very much, Father."

He smiled. “If you have problems, don’t forget Him again. He will help you.”

"Yes," I agreed.

I said goodbye and thanked him before leaving the church. I opened my car and immediately went inside.

'Do what you think is right.'

I had to find a way to make Melissa listen to me. I had to fix our relationship first. After that, I would focus on Reid. My child.

I hoped it was not too late.

I put on my dark glasses again before stopping the car in front of the hotel I was staying at. When I stepped out, I was suddenly greeted by a crowd of people who recognized me. Fortunately, the hotel security personnel arrived and began escorting me inside.

"Why did you come back, Wright? Is it true that you and your girlfriend are engaged?"

"Sir, do you plan to stay here for good?"

My mouth remained shut, wanting to keep my life private. Reporters got more and more lost in asking questions, though they might be lucky enough for me to answer some of their questions.

"Someone saw you enter a church this afternoon. Have you decided to marry Ms. Claire Dela Rosa there?"

"Some rumor says that Ms. Claire's dating someone secretly. Are you aware of anything? Is she two-timing you? Are you two already broken up?"

I quickly handed my car keys to the valet. Security personnel blocked the more aggressive reporters who wanted answers.

Gradually, the noise and flash of the camera disappeared as the elevator doors closed. I pressed the tenth floor button. I wasn't the only one inside. There were two women with me. One had green highlights in the hair, and the other had brownish hair. Their cheeks flushed when I smiled at them.

"Wright Agoncillo, oh my gosh! I can die in peace now!" one of the women said, breathing heavily. She even fanned herself with her hand.

"Uh...Hi."

"Wright!" I was surprised when the woman with green highlights hugged me. She pulled out her cellphone. "Let's take a selfie."

"Sure." I smiled sweetly at her.

"Me too. Please?" the other woman said with puppy eyes.

I pinned her hair behind her ear. She blushed even more. "No problem."

After a few pictures, I was thankful when the elevator doors opened for my floor. I immediately walked to my room. I wanted to rest and to have peace of mind.

To my surprise, when I turned the doorknob, it opened easily. Did I forget to lock it again? The lights in my room were on. But I remembered that I had turned off all the lights before leaving.

I saw a figure lying on the sofa as they hugged a pillow. I sighed and massaged the bridge of my nose. "Claire..."