Her Obsession

Ashuel's POV “What would you like to order, Ma’am?” I asked with a smile to the customer in front of me. “One black coffee and one slice of cheesecake,” she replied. I nodded and wrote it down with a smile. “One black coffee and one slice of cheesecake, coming right up, Ma’am,” I said cheerfully before walking away with the menu in hand. My name is Ashuel Ventura. I work at a small café here in the province of Aklan. The place is well-known, so many people come to dine here. The owner is also very particular in choosing employees—everyone is good-looking, which is one of the reasons customers keep coming back. “One black coffee and one slice of cheesecake for table 67,” I told Mikle, one of my co-workers. “One brown coffee and one coffee cake for table 86,” he said, setting down a tray. I picked it up and delivered it to the table. That has been my job for the past three years—working as a waiter—and I’ve been content with it. I smiled at a female customer, and she blushed. Her reaction made me smile even more. “Kuya, don’t smile at me too much or I might lose my composure,” she said jokingly. I didn’t fully understand her words, but I simply nodded and walked away. As I was walking, I felt something vibrating in my pocket. I reached for my phone and signaled to Mikle that I needed to take a call. He nodded in response. When I looked at the screen, I saw the name of my Aunt Milda. My heart suddenly raced with nervousness I couldn’t explain. My hands trembled, but I forced myself to answer. “Why, Auntie?” I asked, my voice almost breaking. “It’s your mother,” she said, crying. My chest tightened even more. “What happened to her?” I asked frantically. “We rushed her to the hospital, Ashuel,” she said through sobs. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Please wait for me, Auntie. I’ll be there,” I said before ending the call. I quickly went back inside the café and removed my apron. Mikle noticed right away. “Why are you taking that off? You’re still on duty,” he said, but when he saw my expression, he understood. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Go. I’ll take care of things here,” he said gently. I nodded and left. As I stepped outside, I felt someone’s gaze. I turned and saw the woman I had just served earlier, staring at me from inside the shop. We locked eyes for a moment before I looked away, got on my motorcycle, and sped toward the hospital where my mother usually had her check-ups. I drove as fast as I could. When I arrived, I rushed to the emergency room. I wasn’t wrong—my aunt was there with her husband, who was trying to comfort her. When she saw me, she immediately hugged me. I hugged her back, trying hard not to break down in front of her. “Where is my mother?” I asked. She pulled away, tears streaming down her face. My uncle was crying too. Their reaction made me even more anxious. “Your mother… she’s gone, Ashuel. Anis has passed away,” my aunt said. I froze where I stood. Tears poured down my face uncontrollably. My aunt collapsed to the floor, sobbing. My chest tightened painfully, and I struggled to breathe—it felt like I was being suffocated by grief. “Condolences, Ashuel.” “We’re sorry for your loss.” Those were the only words I kept hearing from people who came to offer sympathy. I forced a smile as I accepted their condolences and donations, but inside, I was broken. I still couldn’t believe what had happened. “Please rest, hijo,” Aunt Milda said, concern etched on her face. “I’m fine, Auntie. I can handle this,” I replied with a faint smile. “You haven’t eaten or slept for days. Do you want to follow your mother to the grave?” she asked, her voice trembling. I lowered my head. “Your mother wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself, hijo. You’re slowly destroying yourself. Don’t be stubborn—rest. You need it,” she said firmly. I had no choice but to nod. I went to my small room and lay down on my bed. Darkness and silence surrounded me, and I couldn’t stop my tears. Somehow, the quiet and the shadows became my comfort zone. I no longer had a reason to stay in this house. I wanted to go to Manila to find my father, but my mother never allowed me. If only he had been here, maybe she wouldn’t have suffered so much. If only he had been here, maybe she would still be alive. The day of my mother’s burial finally came. Everyone close to her gave their messages, and so did I. Afterward, her coffin was lowered into the ground. My aunt cried uncontrollably as she watched, while I silently wept. One by one, we dropped flowers into her grave before the soil covered her completely. People slowly left until only my aunt, her husband, and I remained. Eventually, they too decided to go home. I stayed behind, staring at the grave. “I love you, Mother. Please forgive me for the decision I’m about to make. I know you wouldn’t want me to do this, but I have to. He must pay for abandoning us.” When I got home, I immediately went to my room to pack my things. I felt someone’s eyes on me, so I turned to see where it was coming from—and there stood Aunt Milda, her face full of concern. “Where are you going, Ashuel?” she asked. I avoided her gaze and continued packing. She came closer, placed her hand on my shoulder, and stopped me. “Hijo, whatever you’re planning, don’t go through with it,” she said, her brows furrowed.