The day was normal—at least by Charlie's new definition of normal, which meant waking up early, pacing, checking his phone for a message that never came, then pretending everything was under control.
At the hotel lobby, a courier handed him a small brown parcel.
"No name on sender po, Sir," the receptionist said. "Pero may nakasulat lang sa sticky note na 'For Mr. Mo.'"
He took it without much thought—until he saw the pink sticky note attached.
His breath caught.
It was her handwriting. He could tell instantly.
"If it finds you, maybe you were meant to read it."
Inside the package: a worn-out, lemon-yellow notebook. Slightly frayed at the edges. Doodles of sunflowers and paperclips decorated the front page. And under the cover flap... a name.
Peachy Chen.
He gripped the sides. The weight of the notebook was unbearable for something so small.
Inside, the pages were filled with random to-do lists, grocery reminders, occasional sketches, and...
Sticky notes.
Pink ones. Peachy's kind.
Some were lighthearted:
"Remember: Don't cry in public unless it's for a dog movie."77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbP8RperpTx
"If life gives you lemons, make sure they're not expired."
But around the middle, the tone shifted.
Tucked between pages was one square that hit like a truck.
It read:
"Hi, Little One.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbRRlES5sn1
You're not even born yet, but you've already saved me from doing something reckless.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcMU1CMRsLG
I was going to leave, you know. Disappear.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTeyQomz7pb
But I thought of you.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrZeumGRsql
And suddenly, I wanted to stay.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ1BB1tmpb1
Love,77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbaQE8n1RzM
Mama Peachy"
Charlie blinked.
Once. Twice.
Then it hit.
The world stopped.
His knees gave out, and he sat down right there in the hallway. Unbothered by the passing staff. Oblivious to Patty's stare from across the corridor.
She saw the notebook in his hand. And froze.
He looked up at her, voice barely audible. "She was going to disappear."
Patty walked over, sighed heavily, and sat next to him on the floor—never mind her heels or dignity.
"She was scared," Patty said softly. "Scared of becoming our mom. Scared you'd reject her. Scared you'd become our dad."
Charlie flinched. "I didn't know."
Patty shrugged. "That's the thing with Peachy. She never makes people feel responsible for her pain."
He opened to another page. A drawing of a baby bottle beside the caption:
"Need to look this up. Do babies drink milk every 3 hours? Or is that just dogs?"
He laughed. Brokenly.
Then, tucked into the inner back pocket of the notebook, he found one last sticky note. This one was newer. The ink wasn't faded yet.
"Dear you (if ever you read this),77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5WbCWuRapP
No pressure.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEYHeG89fNb
I'm okay now.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6WAoxY8RwC
We're okay.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9CSk1HEqAh
You don't have to come running. I'm not asking for anything.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFNBJuthRJ5
I just wanted to leave behind something honest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdrTcMwpwIi
Because one day, when our baby asks about their father,77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZYPdeoHqyI
I want to say you were kind... even if things didn't work out.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNhbBRVhf6i
—Peachy"
He stared at the note until the letters blurred. The world spun and tilted on its axis.
He wasn't kind.
Not when she needed him. Not when she quietly left with nothing but hope and a heartbeat that wasn't even hers.
He felt like throwing the notebook at a wall and then hugging it so hard it disappeared into his chest.
Instead, he held it gently. Reverently. Like it was made of glass and memories.
That night, Charlie couldn't sleep.
The sticky note burned behind his eyes like an afterimage.
Kind.
She wanted to remember him as kind.
But how could he let her settle for a memory when he was still here? Breathing. Breaking. Burning for the chance to be more?
He sat on the edge of his bed and whispered aloud to no one:
"I'm not just a ghost in your story, Peachy. I'm the man who forgot how to feel until you reminded me."
Then, after a moment, as if replying to the sticky note itself, he murmured,
"I'm coming.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuNukPwIeLo
Not because you need me.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdo9qRpexuF
But because I need to deserve you."
End of Chapter 16.
77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc2sFPQkwfM
and then Add to home screen.