Regret

Kapitulo cincuenta

Irene's POV

The excitement in the air was palpable as we entered the Araneta Big Dome. The towering bleachers were already packed with a sea of yellow and blue—supporters from UST and Ateneo, respectively. The noise, the energy—it all felt overwhelming at first. But my focus was on only one thing: my daughter Ely.

This was the moment she had worked so hard for. Her last volleyball game as a high school student. I could barely believe it. It felt like just yesterday I was taking her to her last first day of volleyball practice. Now, here she was, a young woman—tall, confident, and captain of the UST Golden Tigresses.

It was surreal.

Sitting next to me, my husband gave me a reassuring smile. I knew he felt just as nervous and proud as I did. He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the growing roar of the crowd. "She's going to do great, Love. Just watch."

But as much as I trusted his words, my heart still raced. I clutched my hands together tightly, trying to calm the nerves that had settled deep in my chest. This wasn't just another game. This was the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifices, and growth.

Ely had poured her heart and soul into this sport. And this was her last chance to prove it all on the court, in front of all these people.

And in front of us.

I scanned the court, spotting her instantly.
My baby stood in the middle of her teammates, her head held high, her eyes sharp and focused. There was something different about her today. Her posture was steady, but her face showed the pressure she was carrying as captain. My heart tightened. I wanted so badly to run down there and hug her, to tell her everything would be okay. But I knew better.

She needed to face this on her own.

As the teams lined up and the game was about to begin, I caught Ely looking up toward us. Her eyes searched the stands, and when they finally locked with mine, I smiled and waved, mouthing, "Good luck, anak. You've got this."

For a second, her serious expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips before she turned back to the court, ready to start the game.

The whistle blew, signaling the beginning of the match, and just like that, they were off.

Every rally felt like an eternity. The ball flew back and forth between UST and Ateneo, and with each exchange, the intensity in the room grew.

She moved with grace and power, leaping high for every spike and diving low for every save. Her agility was breathtaking. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Each time she touched the ball, I held my breath, silently praying for a successful play.

The first set was neck and neck. Both teams fought fiercely for every point, but UST managed to pull ahead, and I could feel the tension in the stands shift as the Thomasians cheered louder and louder. When Ely landed a particularly strong spike, sending the ball crashing into the Ateneo side, the entire UST crowd erupted in cheers.

I was on my feet, clapping and shouting, feeling a swell of pride so strong it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

"That's my daughter!" I exclaimed to no one in particular, unable to contain my excitement.

But even as I celebrated, I could see the battle Ely was fighting on the court.

Ateneo wasn't going to make this easy for them.

They were coming back with full force. I watched as their star player, Ingrid Conception, set up for a block, staring down my daughter with determination in her eyes. There was a fierce rivalry between the two, one that had been building throughout their high school careers.