On the back, in his handwriting:
“If I can’t come back…
I hope you remember me not as the woman who left,
but as the woman who loved you to the very end.”
I collapsed onto the floor.
That pillow wasn’t just a pillow.
It was the coffin of every word he never said.
The next day, Diane arrived.
He smiled, carrying his things.
“Are you ready for a new beginning?” he asked.
I looked at the room.
The bed.
The pillow.
The secrets.
I didn’t answer.
Because finally, I understood—
Kara didn’t leave me.
He released me.
But the question now is…
I didn’t sleep that night.
I just sat on the edge of the bed, holding the old pillow that I once hated, now feels like a holy relic I can’t let go of. In every fiber of its fabric, I could feel Kara—her breath, her silence, the words she chose to swallow just so she wouldn’t hurt me.
Diane was in the living room, busy organizing her things. I heard the sound of hangers, her soft footsteps—sounds of a new beginning.
But in my chest, something is destroying me.
I couldn’t look at him. Not because he was at fault—but because finally, it was crystal clear to me how blind I had been.
Around seven in the morning, I got up.
I took the papers from the envelope.
The medical records.
The name of the hospital.
St. Luke’s Medical Center.
If there was even a shred of hope…
If there was even a percent chance that Kara was still alive—
I need to know.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was greeted by the smell of disinfectant and a heavy silence. This is the place where hope and farewell meet.
I approached the information desk.
“Ma’am,” I said tremblingly, “I’m looking for Kara Mae Santos. She was… a patient here before.”
The woman looked at the computer. Typed. Stopped. Typed again.
The silence lasted.
“Sir,” he said carefully, “when was his last treatment?”
“About… a month ago,” I replied.
He nodded, then looked at me as if he was preparing something serious to say.
“Just a moment.”
He called a nurse.
A woman in her late forties, with the eyes of someone who has long seen pain and loss.
“Come with me, sir.”
We entered a small office.
“Kara Santos,” the nurse began, “was last admitted here three weeks ago.”
My world stopped.
“Where is he now?” I immediately asked.
He took a deep breath.
“He left… against medical advice.”
“Why?” I asked almost shouting.
“He said he couldn’t handle the treatment anymore. And… he left a note.”
He handed me a white envelope.
I know handwriting very well.
Mark,
If you’re reading this, it means you’ve found me.
I’m sorry if I ran away from the hospital.
I don’t want you to remember me as the woman hooked up to tubes and machines.
I want you to remember me smiling.
There’s one place I want to go before it’s all over.
A place that’s quiet. Far away. No doctor.
Don’t look for me.
If you love me even a little bit… let me end in peace.
-Cane
I didn’t realize I was crying.
“Do you have any idea where he went?” I asked, hoping for a miracle.
The nurse sighed.
“He mentioned… a place. Province. Cavinti, Laguna.”
Cavinti.
Suddenly, an old conversation we had came back to my memory.
“I want to live by the lake one day,” he said then.
“The silence. The silence that feels like time has stopped.”
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