𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉 𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃

Chapter 14

Being able to respond to Dean's earlier request is perhaps a beneficial move. I've been with my mother since, and she made the faculty a narrative for why I was gone for four days while still having a facial injury. Somewhere within the office, I waited for a while, as they left the room, I overheard them having a good laugh again.

I had no idea why or what was funny until one of them spoke to me: "Mr. Morgan, you forgot to tell me that Betchay is your mother, huh? We've been in the same class since first-year college, right here at this school, and I never once speculated that she and Mr. Barcelon would've been together, because your mother has had enough boyfriends to show off, and one of them is John."

She seemed to have poured more words into my bowl of questions about my personality as she continued to do so. "Who is this John?" I thought. But then I felt Mama was trying to stop her from trying to talk, so she didn't get to continue what she was mumbling, and figuring out what the profound nature of the truth was is a luxury I cannot afford.

I wasn't satisfied by their calmness thereafter, and more and more questions were forming in my mind: "what if Migs Barcelon isn't my father? So, who is my father now?" I was starting to get confused. "Who is John, Ma? Tell me, is Coach Miguel, my father?" I expected not to receive a sensible answer from her, since I know that she will never tell me what she knows just because she doesn't want to hurt me again, and to think I might continue to avoid her now that the secret is slowly coming to light. Instead of focusing my time on asking Mama, I decided to go visit Olivia and tell her about things that have been bothering me, the secrets that were coming out just when my mother came back into our lives.

Olivia looked more inquisitive than I did, now that I think about it, she filled me with more answers than my mother could have—the mother who gave birth to me—but more often than not, Olivia surprised me as being more of a parent than Mama. "It's a little confusing, wait a minute; you must be kidding, though? That no matter how far you've traveled to find who your father is, at the end of the day, only your mother can determine where you should go."

The truth wants to tell me everything, which makes it all the more clear that I shouldn't even be hearing what is being said. There was nothing else for me to do but come home and meet Eli's bear hug, and to my surprise, I ended up missing to have seen Trevor Morgan in all of his grandeur, who never came back with our mother eventually. I must respect if he can’t comprehend and think we should forgive Mama just yet. He's still reluctant, just like I am, and he won't be ready in that sense... not like Eli, who easily forgot and forgave the long and painful absence of her loving mother.

As much as we would like to, those of us who wanted to believe that our mother hadn't left all these years will find the whole idea difficult.

They say questions are made to bewilder us in this world, but our lives are filled with far too many uncertainties. None of them, I'm quite certain, have the solution, but if we consider the question's matter with careful logic, there is always an answer, and there is an option if it is obvious and straightforward. What if, however, the question is so evident that those who disagree with it are only trying to make it seem impossible? —and that a simple answer cannot be given? Seriously, the world is a mess; where to begin, that would be the question? However, we already know how things will pan out. I suppose it's all up to me now.

For a very long time, I worried for my siblings' well-being and didn't feel like I had any dreams of my own. Because I know something isn't for me when I have this gut feeling about it, and my desire to keep going is easily sapped, and feel quickly overwhelmed.

However, when I thought I was going to lose both of my parents—one to death and the other to terrible despair— likely resulted in how I supported Trev and Eli. I was less certain: I haven't had that parent who taught me to be, so how can I be a parent? How can I be a kid if I was never one when I was younger? And in the end, I simply posed a question to the entire universe: "Why are there differences between all kids and all parents? If they have always been of the same blood," then one must always keep the other. Who will it be?

The final examinations are finally over, and somehow I can breathe a sigh of relief. Just a little while more and I'll be ready to face life's tough challenges; as it were, the life that awaits me once I receive my degree will be much easier than the five years of hardships I've endured in college. I pray that I will not receive any more traumatic news or terrible outcomes in the hereafter, and only want that after the recent storms, positive things would continue to happen.

However, despite my best efforts, I can never quite make my life seem like it has a bright future. The things that are still happening right now are real problems that I can't solve. The outcome of the investigation my lawyers are conducting in the wake of the shop's demise still consumes my concerns. It is difficult to believe that, if it is real that Papa was engaged in the selling of the property, what about the things we did? My father and I, as his son, could there be a chance that our relationship will be in disarray? Or, after this, is he even still fit to be my father?

There is something I suspect—that there is a rather good possibility that he's not the father I am looking for, that he was just mistaken for someone that I do not know why or how. Does this mean that all my efforts and actions were just wasted? Especially telling them all the lies, now that because he is not the one who gave me half of my identity? I couldn't even tell them that I was the cause of why they met today, just because I wanted to answer the question that arose in my mind when I was away from my family.