Her husband forced her to have an abortion so he could live more freely with his lover. But she decided to give it all up, ran away to Cebu, and secretly gave birth to twin daughters. Seven years later, she returned to her daughters to find her ex-husband feeling this punishment in every move.

It was a rainy night in Tagaytay.
Marites sat on the cold floor, clutching her slowly rounding belly.
In the living room, Adrian was talking softly to a woman—and Marites didn’t even have to guess who she was.
She didn’t have the strength to ask questions; everything was clear.
She had sacrificed everything: she started working again, helped Adrian grow his restaurant, even humiliated herself.
But as soon as the business became successful, the first thing she heard was:
“I don’t love you anymore.”

Initially, she thought she would endure it—for the baby.

But when Adrian threw away the ultrasound photo and said coldly:

“Get an abortion, I’ll pay for everything.”

She realized there was nothing left to return to.

Quietly, she packed some clothes and her saved money into her bag.

Before leaving, she looked at the wedding photo on the wall and whispered:

“I won’t cry anymore.”

She boarded a bus to Cebu—

a city big enough for her to hide in, far enough away that her past would never find her,

and new enough for her to start anew.

When she arrived, she was five months pregnant.

No home, no family, no work… only the fire to live, for her child.

She became a waitress at a small diner near the port.

The owner, Doña Pilar, took pity on her and offered her a small room behind the kitchen.

She often said:
“This is a woman’s life. Sometimes you have to be stronger than you think.”

In October, twin daughters were born at the district hospital.
She named them Amiha and Livay,
hoping that their lives would be just as strong and peaceful.

Seven years passed.
Marites now ran a small flower stall on Colon Street—
just enough to support the three of them.
The twins were growing up: Amiha, playful and cheerful, Livay, serious and thoughtful.
Both doted on their mother.

One Christmas, while watching the news on TV, Marites saw Adrian—
he was now a successful businessman in Tagaytay,
owner of a chain of restaurants,
married to Catriona (an old girlfriend).
They were smiling for the camera, holding hands,
like a perfect family.
But Marites’ blood was no longer boiling.

The anger had dissipated;
all that remained was despair and a bitter smile.

She looked at her daughters—
beautiful, full of life.

The very children their father had tried to destroy,
were her greatest strength today.

That night, opening her Facebook account, which had been closed for seven years, she wrote:
“I’m back. And I’m not the old Mariettes anymore.”

Return
After Christmas, Mariettes returned to Tagaytay with the twins.
She moved into a small house near the center and changed her name to Marielle Satos.

She didn’t need Adrian’s identity.

She just wanted Adrian to feel the same bitterness and humiliation.

She applied for a job as an events coordinator at Adrian’s restaurant chain.
In her new identity, she quickly became known as “Marielle”—
professional, strong, and cheerful.

Adrian didn’t recognize her.

Rather, he was drawn to her charisma.

“You seem familiar to me. Have we met before?”
Adrian asked at a company party.

Mariel smiled, but her eyes were cold:
“Maybe I’m just a dream. But I’m the woman people easily forget.”

A strange fear gripped Adrian’s heart.

The Truth Came Out
After a few weeks, Adrian began to feel a strange pull toward Mariel.

Mariel also began to deliberately drop hints—
the same song Adrian listened to,
the same dish he made for Marites’ birthday,
the same line of poetry he had once recited to Marites.

Adrian could no longer ignore it.

Who was Mariel really?

He began investigating her background.

The report came in: Mariel Satos, a resident of Cebu, an unmarried mother of twin daughters.

Twins?
Adrien felt a shiver run through his entire body.

One day, Adrian unexpectedly arrived at Mariel’s house.

The door opened and two little girls emerged.

One looked at him and asked:

“Tito, why do you look so much like me?”

Adrian felt as if someone had poured cold water on his head.

Mariel came out and said:

“There you go. These are your daughters.”

Adrian’s face went pale.

“You… are Marites?”

Mariel shook her head:
“No. I am the mother of the children you wanted to destroy.
The very woman you ‘killed’ for your lover.”

Adrian was stunned.
Remembering everything from the past—
the moment of rejecting the child,
her cold words.
And now, there were two living proofs of his mistake.

That night, Adrian came to Mariel’s house again and knelt on the doorstep.
Tears welled in his eyes.
“Forgive me. Give me a chance. Let me be their father.”

Mariel said coldly:
“You have no right. You didn’t choose them.
You should have fought for them, but you threw them away.
Do you want to atone now? My daughters are not trophies for your regrets.”

“I just want to pay for my crime…”
“You will pay,” Mariel interrupted.
“Starting tomorrow, you will transfer 20% of your restaurant’s shares to the Single Mothers’ Foundation.

And you will write it with your own hand—as an apology.”

Adrian trembled:
“Are you using children as weapons?”

Marielle’s smile was as icy:
“No. This is the price for your sin—so you can learn responsibility.”

A few months later, Marielle and the twins returned to Cebu.

Adrian remained behind—thin, silent,
a man who visited the Foundation every day,
where he listened to the stories of women
who had been “killed” by their husbands,
just as he had killed Marielle.

One day, Amiha asked:
“Mom, why can’t we call him Dad?”

Mariel stroked her hair and said:
“Because he didn’t choose you.
I chose. I remained.
So calling me ‘Mom’ is enough.”

And the story ends here—

Not with a scream of anger,

but with the silence of a strong woman.

The woman who was once broken,

today stands tall and has tasted her justice.