Hello Ex

I called Mom to tell her we were on our way. Even then, Grandma was already yelling at us to hurry, worried that something might happen to Cyrus. I could hear the worry in their voices, the panic barely held back by their tears. They were scared—scared for Cyrus. But what could we do? This was Cyrus’s decision. I just hoped he wouldn’t go through with it again.

When we arrived at the hospital, Grandma met us at the door and started scolding Cyrus like crazy. But Cyrus just stayed calm, trying to look okay so they wouldn’t worry too much.

The doctor said his condition was stable for now, and that they might operate tomorrow. I prayed the surgery would succeed—because none of us were ready to lose Cyrus yet.

After the tests, Cyrus asked to be left alone for a while. At first, we didn’t want to leave him, afraid something might happen, but he promised he would call us immediately if there was an emergency.

Mom and I decided to go home to gather our things so we could stay the night at the hospital. Since Grandma owns this hospital, we had a VIP room ready, and no one could stop us.

I texted my manager to cancel my schedule for the coming week so I could stay and watch over Cyrus properly. She understood and even informed Auntie Lyla, the CEO I told you about before. They both supported me, so I didn’t have to worry. I also told Ezekiel I wouldn’t be his partner for the Bukidnon shoot anymore. He called me afterward to check if I was okay. I told him I was, but I didn’t want to talk about anything yet. I promised myself I’d open up once things settled down.

After a few hours of sleep at home, we all returned to the hospital.

There was Cyrus, sitting quietly, fiddling with his phone. Mom sat beside him on the bed and asked gently, “Son, how are you?”

Cyrus gave a faint smile and made an ‘OK’ sign with his hand. Mom hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back. I looked away, unable to hold back the tears any longer. My heart ached seeing him like this, struggling through everything.

Then, he whispered, “I love you,” to Mom.

That broke all of us.

Grandma started crying openly, and Mom sobbed back, “No, son, I love you more. We all love you more. Please don’t leave us yet.” Cyrus didn’t answer—he just cried silently. I couldn’t stop my own tears anymore. It was like he was saying goodbye.

And then, the monitor flatlined.

We all ran to his side. “CYRUS!” I shouted, but he was gone. He closed his eyes for the last time. Our knees gave out, and we collapsed onto the floor. Mom clung to Cyrus’s body, whispering “I love you” over and over.

The room filled with noise—doctors and nurses rushing in to help Mom and Grandma, who had fainted from the shock. Even Dad, who had been holding back his tears, finally broke down. The doctor gently removed the tubes and declared the time of death.

This was not the new beginning I had dreamed of. This was not supposed to happen. Why? Why, Lord? Why didn’t you give him more time—just a little longer to fight?

I approached the doctor, needing answers. Why had everyone seemed so calm? Why didn’t they act surprised? He told me that Cyrus had asked them to keep his condition a secret. His body was too weak to fight anymore, and he wanted to spare us the pain. The doctor apologized for hiding the truth, but I understood—Cyrus always liked to carry his burdens alone, never wanting anyone to worry. But the truth was, he needed us all along.

The nurses and doctor left us alone with Cyrus’s still body. Mom slowly recovered and sat back beside him, while Dad stepped outside to collect himself. Grandma sat silently next to me, staring at the lifeless figure that was once full of life.

I decided to pack up Cyrus’s things. There was no use in holding on to them if he wasn’t here anymore. As I gathered his belongings, my eyes caught his phone. He had been fiddling with it earlier. A feeling told me he might have left something behind.

I searched through the phone but found no last messages. Then, I noticed a small piece of paper tucked behind the phone cover. I quickly removed the cover and unfolded the note.

There were two letters written there. I glanced at the first one, addressed to Maricar, but decided not to read it. Instead, I opened the second letter.

The moment I started reading, tears blurred my vision. I barely managed to finish the letter before my knees almost gave out. I felt my father’s steady hands on my shoulders, holding me up as I sobbed uncontrollably.

Are my days filled with endless tears?
After all this pain our family has suffered,
Will I ever be free from the weight of guilt?
Where will my mind find peace at last?

I handed the letter to Mom, who read it silently. At first, she didn’t understand why it was there. But when I told her it was from Cyrus, she accepted it with a heavy heart.

Together, Dad and I stepped outside to get some fresh air. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I called Ezekiel instead of my manager. I needed someone to talk to, even if I didn’t say much.

Later, I called Maricar and asked her to come to the hospital. We needed her here—to say her final goodbye to Cyrus.

To Be Continued