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."20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgopNv7K6pE
"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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnRcAzY9juv
You're not even born yet, but you've already saved me from doing something reckless.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfNtvujgeTS
I was going to leave, you know. Disappear.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWFs0cfsgYg
But I thought of you.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡisIEvJN57U
And suddenly, I wanted to stay.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYJI0nsVfUQ
Love,20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpHuS11iy0l
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),20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH8DdruhRxX
No pressure.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp0FHdtMBKd
I'm okay now.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqvXMDIzyIy
We're okay.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfYmRXaJqeY
You don't have to come running. I'm not asking for anything.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ57Ltvp1KPF
I just wanted to leave behind something honest.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ovVb5G8FZ
Because one day, when our baby asks about their father,20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDzERsMvTSU
I want to say you were kind... even if things didn't work out.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLNSnqPBZu5
—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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwzFUFtZjfj
Not because you need me.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLKA8OaKo3z
But because I need to deserve you."
End of Chapter 16.
20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡislskoumXZ
