In a simple cafeteria in Manila, our paths first crossed. I was Rina, a working student, and he was Marco—quiet, rugged, and always with a scar on his eyebrow. He only ate there once, but I will never forget the look in his eyes that seemed to hold a secret.
One night, there was a fight outside the cafeteria. Two men were arguing, which ended in a fight. Suddenly, my grandmother, who was selling food, was hit on the side. Marco immediately ran and pulled her away from the middle. He didn't back down—even though he was hit in the shoulder, he didn't leave until we were all safe.
That's where it all started. I thanked him, and helped him treat his wound. “That's nothing new to me,” he joked. “But you, you're new to my world.” I smiled. Since then, he's been stopping by every day just to say hello. He's not talkative, but you can tell he's genuine.
As the weeks passed, I got to know him better. He used to be involved in a gang, but he wanted to change. “Because of you,” he said. I didn’t know whether to be happy or scared—but my heart was the judge. We started going out, quietly—ice cream parlors, parks, and often, just walking down the street while holding hands.
Until one night, his old enemy followed us. He wanted to get back at him. It came to a chase and a fight. I was nervous, but in the end, he protected me. I was the one who called the police. When the trouble was over, he said, “I want to fix my life. And I want to start a new life with you.”
From then on, we started again. I helped him find a job. He became my guardian—at the cafe, at home, in my heart. Our beginnings weren't perfect, but with each recovery from adversity, we grew stronger.
They say it's dangerous to love a man with a dark past. But for me, sometimes, you just need courage and trust—because behind the wounds and scars, there is a heart ready to love truly.
