After moving back to Granny's old house, the days dragged on quietly, yet always with an undercurrent of "what next?" hanging in the air. By then, I had already ended my short contract with Sir Cedric as a **graphic designer and administrative staff** at that small company. It was my third job since graduating, and once again, it felt like I had to start all over.
By September, the decision was made—we were to travel from the capital and make our way toward the National, where Noah's family urged us to come. They promised opportunities, a better future, and though doubt lingered in my heart, the thought of something stable for Neven was enough to push me forward.
The trip was long, my mind filled with questions. What if it was just the same struggle in a different place? What if the promises were hollow? But when we finally arrived, the first people I met made me swallow those questions—for the meantime.
---
+Meeting the Family+
The first one I met was **Jesthon**, Noah's eldest brother. He wasn't just a cousin; he was also a **pastor** in their family church, his presence calm and authoritative. Then came **Pette**, another brother, and **George**, the youngest among them—all of them older than me by years.
Noah was already working by the time I settled in, so I often found myself alone in those early days, unsure where to place my feet. I was painfully shy, hesitant to even move around the house unless spoken to.
Then came **Aunt Neneng**, whose eyes held both sharpness and warmth, depending on the moment, and **Lea**, George's wife. Later, I was introduced to **Rose**, Pette's fiancée. Both women already had children, so conversations often turned toward motherhood, advice I didn't always ask for but received anyway.
At first, it seemed fine. Conversations polite, smiles exchanged, small laughs shared at meals. I thought, *Maybe this won't be so hard.*
But by mid-November, cracks began to show.
---
+ Decisions in the City+
Noah's salary, though steady, was not enough to cover everything. Rent, food, Neven's milk, our small savings—it stretched too thin.
"Noira," Noah said one evening as we shared a quiet meal. "What if you apply where I work? In the National City. The pay is higher. Maybe then… maybe we can breathe a little."
I looked down at my plate, already knowing he was right. "But who'll watch Neven when we're both gone?"
"We'll figure it out," he said firmly. "But we can't keep living like this. One salary isn't enough."
So I applied. By some grace, I was accepted at **Convergys**, one of the big BPO companies. The name itself carried weight; it felt like stepping into a bigger world, a chance at stability.
When my first salary came, there was relief in Noah's eyes, and even some acknowledgment from the relatives. But that relief didn't last long.
---
+The Sharing Issue+
"Since you're both working now," Aunt Neneng said one evening, her tone casual but her eyes sharp, "maybe you should give a share. It's only right."
I shifted uncomfortably. "We can… sometimes. But we're also saving. Neven's first birthday is coming, and we want to give him something, even if small."
We did give, once or twice, but it wasn't continuous. Not because we didn't want to, but because we couldn't. Every peso was already divided—milk, rent, transportation, savings for the celebration. Even my mother had to help us, pitching in for Neven's birthday because alone, we couldn't manage it.
When I tried to explain this to Aunt Neneng, she nodded but the silence afterward told me everything.
---
+Neven's First Birthday+
By the time Neven's birthday came, I was still under probation at Convergys. That meant I couldn't risk being absent or even leaving early. Policies were strict, and I couldn't gamble my job when regularization was still months away.
So, me and Noah traveled home **a day before** the celebration.
The house buzzed with activity, relatives preparing food, tables, and decorations. A few godparents managed to come despite work, most arriving only after the christening when lunch was served.
I looked around at the scene, tired yet proud. Neven was surrounded by love, even if just for a day. His smile as he grabbed at his little cake made everything worth it.
"Happy birthday, baby," I whispered, kissing his forehead.
After the celebration, life slipped back into routine—work, boarding house, late nights, early mornings. Normal.
Or at least it should have been.
---
+Work, Routine, and Closeness+
At Convergys, the days were long but I adapted. Training ended, probation stretched on, and slowly, I became closer with my teammates. We shared stories during breaks, learning about each other's backgrounds, challenges, and small dreams. For the first time, I felt like maybe I could belong in a professional space without being judged for where I came from.
It was a fragile peace.
---
+The Rosa–Mariz Controversy+
Then came the fight.
It started not with me, but with **Rosa**, Pette's fiancée, and **Mariz**, Jesthon's girlfriend. Mariz had become close to me—we shared the same struggles, the same frustrations, the same sense of being outsiders sometimes. We laughed together, leaned on each other.
But Rosa decided otherwise.
"She's gossiping," Rosa claimed one day, her eyes burning with accusation. "Everything I tell her, she runs to Mariz. She's the reason our fights get worse."
I froze when the words reached me. Gossip? Me? If anything, I avoided their issues like plague.
So when Rosa confronted me, her voice sharp and demanding, I thought it would be just the two of us.
"You spread stories," she said, pointing a finger at me. "You'll come with me, and we'll settle this."
I agreed, thinking it was just between us. But when I arrived, I realized it wasn't. **Pette and George were there**, standing like silent judges, and Rosa even video-called Aunt Neneng, pulling her into the mess.
My heart pounded as Rosa repeated her accusations. I stood tall, refusing to cower.
"Ask me directly," I said firmly. "Don't assume. I never admitted anything because there's nothing to admit. This isn't about me—it's about the issues you already have."
The room fell silent. Rosa's words tangled in the air, but I didn't back down.
Later that night, I went straight to Mariz. "I told her everything," I said, voice breaking. "I told her how unfair it was, how I was dragged into something that wasn't even mine. And she agreed. She said I wasn't wrong."
But the hurt lingered. Betrayal cut deep—not just Rosa's, but the family's willingness to believe I was guilty without question.
Finally, I approached Aunt Neneng myself. "Why am I included in the wives' fights? Why am I being accused when I wasn't even part of their issue? If this is about work or about their personal matters, don't pin it on me."
She listened, but her expression gave little away.
And as I walked away from that confrontation, one thing became clear: blood may bind families, but suspicion and pride could tear them apart just as easily.