I love you.
—Michael
By the time I finished reading, I was crying.
For months, I had feared the worst.
I thought he was hiding something terrible… another life… another family.
But the truth was the opposite.
He was hiding a dream.
When Michael came home, I told him we needed to talk.
He sat down quietly, already knowing.
“I’m sorry I lied,” he said.
I placed the letter on the table.
“I read it.”
He looked at me carefully.
“Are you angry?”
“No,” I said softly. “Just one thing.”
He tensed.
I took his hand.
“Why didn’t you let me be part of your dream from the beginning?”
His eyes filled with tears.
I hugged him tightly.
And for the first time in months, I felt peace.
A few weeks later, we traveled together to Cebu.
When we arrived, I saw it.
A small school.
At the gate: San Pedro Free Community School.
Children ran toward us, smiling. Teachers stood at the entrance. Some clapped. Some simply looked grateful.
Tears filled my eyes.
Michael squeezed my hand.
“This is my dream,” he said.
Then he looked at me.
“But I can’t do it alone. Will you help me run it?”
