Once Upon a Memory

once

Greggy's voice cuts through the room like a blade.

The air turns thick, suffocating. Rachel's face pales as she realizes her mistake. Alfy's jaw tightens, his grip on his glass going white-knuckled.

Greggy's expression is unreadable—calm, too calm.

"I asked a question," he says evenly. "Sino si Audrey?"

Irene exhales sharply. She knew this moment would come, but not like this.

Not like this.

Greggy looks at each of them, his patience thinning. "Someone answer me."

Alfy is the one who does. His voice is steady, but there's something raw underneath it. "Si Audrey..." He swallows hard, his throat bobbing. "Kapatid ko."

Greggy doesn't react right away. He just blinks, processing the words. "Ano? Anong kapatid?"

Then after a few seconds of deafening silence, he asked, once again, "The one in your wallet? You have a... sister?"

Had.

The unspoken correction hangs between them like a ghost. Irene closes her eyes, bracing herself.

"Nasaan siya?" Greggy asks, still calm.

Alfy grips his jeans, his knuckles turning white. "Wala na siya."

A beat.

Then another.

Greggy's fingers twitch, the only sign of movement. "Paano?"

The room is silent except for the sound of Alfy's sharp inhale. His next words come out tight, forced—like they hurt just to say.

"Dahil gusto ka niyang hanapin." Greggy stills.

Alfy keeps going, his voice cracking. "Gusto ka niyang makita. Gusto ka niyang makilala."

Something inside Greggy shatters.

His ears start ringing. His breath gets caught in his throat. His hands curl into fists, but he feels numb.

"No," he murmurs, almost to himself.

But Alfy doesn't stop.

"Hindi sinabi ni Audrey kay Mama," he says, looking at Irene with a mix of hurt and understanding. "Pero nalaman niya. She figured it out. And she—" His voice breaks. "She left. She got on that plane because she wanted to find you."

Greggy can't breathe.

"Audrey is gone because of me?" His voice is hoarse, pained, disbelieving.

"No," Irene says quickly. "It wasn't your fault, Greggy—"

"Hindi ba?" He lets out a short, bitter laugh, but it sounds more like a sob.

He never even knew she existed. Never got the chance to hear her voice, never got to hold her, never got to be her father. And now, he never will.

And the worst part?

She had been looking for him.

She had wanted him.

And she died because of it.

Greggy presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, his breathing uneven.

"I need to go." His voice is barely above a whisper.

Irene reaches for him, but he pulls back.

"Greggy—"

"I just—" He shakes his head. "I can't do this right now." And then, before anyone can stop him, he walks out the door.

He thought losing Irene was painful.
He thought losing Alfy for twenty years was unbearable.
But losing a daughter he never even got to meet? That will break him in ways he never imagined.

And then Greggy learns something even more devastating—Audrey had wanted to meet him.

She had been searching for him. She had planned to return to the Philippines, hoping to finally see the father she had only known through stories. She was coming back for him.

But she never made it.

The weight of it nearly crushes Greggy. He could've had her. He could've known her. But time stole that from him.

And somehow, in the wreckage of that pain, something shifts between him and Irene.

Because grief has a way of bringing people together.

And for the first time in years, they stop running from what's always been there.