At Last, Him

Chapter 38: Welcome Home

When I finally walked through the door of my condo, the air felt colder, emptier. My mother was in the living room, buttoning up her coat as she prepared to leave for the hospital. Tumingala siya at lumingon sa 'kin, ang mga mata niya ay nanlaki sa ginhawa.

"Buti nandito ka na, anak," sabi niya, nagpakawala ng isang malalim na hininga. "Don't make any noise; the baby just fell asleep."

I nodded, the gesture stiff and automatic. She moved closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm. It was warm, solid—the touch of someone who hadn't given up on me. Without saying another word, she stepped out, closing the door behind her with a soft click that reverberated in the silence.

The condo felt like a mausoleum. I took a few hesitant steps inside, eyes scanning the room. The walls still bore photos of our life together, frozen moments of joy that now felt like cruel reminders. There was Shan, laughing mid-twirl in our living room, her hair catching the light. There we were at the beach, my arm around her waist, the ocean a glittering backdrop.

My chest tightened as I moved further in, each step pulling me into the suffocating grip of memories. The scent of lavender lingered faintly, Shan's signature. Lumakad ako sa tabi ng bookshelf, napadako ang mga mata ko sa kanyang MacBook, na nakapatong pa rin sa dati nitong puwesto na parang babalik siya anumang sandali. The reality hit me again—she never would.

I stepped into the bathroom, peeling off the shirt that reeked of whiskey and despair. The mirror caught my reflection, and I barely recognized the man staring back—hollow-eyed, unshaven, defeated. Turning away, I stepped into the shower. The water scalded my skin, but I welcomed the sting, hoping it could cleanse something deeper than grime. The heat battered against my body, trailing down in streams that felt more like punishment than relief.

But it wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough.

When I stepped out, droplets trailing down my skin, a memory came unbidden—a brief flash of Shan in our living room, perched on the edge of her seat, eyes alight with joy as she stared at her MacBook.

"Ano'ng meron?" I had asked, an amused lilt in my voice.

"My book!" Shan said, barely able to contain her excitement. "It's finished, and it's going to be out next week!"

The memory faded, leaving a hollowness behind as realization settled over me. Her book—it would be out by now, sitting on bookstore shelves, new and untouched. She hadn't even gotten the chance to hold it. A sob bubbled up, unbidden, and my shoulders shook as I sank onto the bed. Silent tears carved paths down my face, mourning not just her absence but the dreams she never got to live.

A soft sound pulled me out of my spiral. I glanced up to see wide, curious eyes watching me from the crib. The baby was awake, silent but aware, studying me with an expression that mirrored Shan's so perfectly it ached.

"Casha Gian Pertierra Marasigan," I whispered, my voice cracking as I said her name for the first time in what felt like forever. Casha—named from our own, Caden and Shannon, with Gian from our names, Guiea and Luan. Her gaze held mine, unwavering.

I moved closer, my body trembling as I knelt beside the crib. The air between us was heavy, charged with grief and something else I hadn't felt in weeks—an aching need for connection. I reached out, my fingers brushing her tiny hand. The warmth of her fingers wrapped around mine, fragile but fierce, as if she sensed the weight I carried and offered what little she could.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, tears streaming as I spoke to her, to Shan, to the hollow in my heart. "I'm so, so sorry for blaming you."

Casha's eyes never left mine, and as I sat there, with her tiny hand gripping mine, something splintered inside me. Raw, real, and unfiltered, the splintering cracked open the numb shell that had cocooned me since Shan's passing. The guilt that had hollowed me out, that gnawed relentlessly, poured out in sobs that shook my body. The room blurred through my tears, the muted gray walls and warm, wooden floors smearing into soft shapes, as if the very world around me were trying to soothe the chaos within.