I was depressed. My son isn’t alive; he’s locked in a no-lock agreement but can’t escape.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Maria Luisa looked at the screen; her face changed. He
answered:
Yes, I’m going. As soon as the call ended, she looked at me. Mom, I have to go. I don’t have a specific deadline.
I saw her getting dressed, fixing her hair, being the perfect woman everyone else wants. Do you have to be like that all the time?
She nodded. I went to the kitchen and quickly prepared broth and rice. Eat first.
He sat down, picked up his spoon, and looked at the soup, his eyes red. He ate in silence, each sip like a memory from the past. I sat across from him, close but seemingly distant.
After dinner, she got up, Mom, I was leaving
When he disappeared, I noticed a small key on the table. I have a limit. I went upstairs, entered the money room, and found a small cabinet against the wall. The key is correct. When I opened it, it was a thick folder.
Signed in the name of Maria Luisa. Fourteen years old. No strict conditions are allowed for departure, all money must be returned if violated, the image must be maintained, outside relations are prohibited, and the other party has the right to act if reputation is damaged.
I leaned against the wall, struggling to breathe. For twelve years, my son lived in an iron cage but couldn’t get out.
When Maria Luisa returned, there was a tall man in a suit in the living room. He looked at me coldly. “Who are you?”
I am Maria Luisa’s mother
He nodded, I know. I’ll take care of your son’s contract.
He was depressed. His name is Kang Jun.
When Maria Luisa arrived, her expression changed. She stood between us as if she were protecting me. The wind was strong. The man mentioned the contract before leaving, and before he left, he finally said two more years.
That night we slept together. My weak question: Aren’t you tired of this life?
“I’m tired, Mom. But I don’t want to remind you of yourself.”
I took her hand and went home. I don’t need the money, I need you.
She remained silent for a long time before answering. But I’m afraid.
The next day, he took me to a small wooden house in a quiet area on the outskirts of the city. After the contract ended, this is where he wanted to start over.
I told him not to wait two years. I’ll stay here with you.
In the following days, he began to prepare. The house was sold, the property sold, every payment received. The man called to remind him, sometimes even shortening the deadline. There was a lot of pressure, but he had no doubts.
The day had arrived. Maria Luisa was dressed simply, without makeup; she was just herself. We both went to the man’s office. He gave me all the money I had saved, including the proceeds from selling my house in the province.
The man looked at her and then said, “It’s over.”
When we left the building, the sun was shining brightly. Maria Luisa stopped on the stairs, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. She
looked at me and said, ‘I’m finished.’
We returned to the Philippines. There was no noise, no big gatherings. Two people, two suitcases, left the airport.
María Luisa opened a small restaurant on a corner. It’s nothing fancy, just simple dishes. The first customer was a tricycle driver. He liked the food.
It was only two words, but my son’s eyes lit up.
Gradually, the number of clients increased. Some days are slow, others are strong, but there are no days when I have to fake it.
One afternoon, I saw my son cleaning the table in the sun. His face was light, the weight had disappeared. He was just a woman living his own life.
I thought that, if I hadn’t been brave then, perhaps I would still be tied to that life to this day, smiling but not really living.
This story isn’t about being strong from the start, but about a woman who was weak, who endured, but who ultimately chose to change. No matter the cost, freedom is worth it.
And if you have the courage to lose, you’ll know you’re not as weak as you think. You just haven’t tried it before.
