I send my mother 1.5 million pesos monthly for my postpartum wife. Coming home early, I found my wife eating spoiled rice with fish heads. Furious, I confronted my mom, who sneered, “She doesn’t deserve better.” Then, I checked the family safe and found…

the steering wheel under the bruised-yellow streetlights of the city.

I believed that bleeding myself dry at the factory was the ultimate shield. I thought provision was synonymous with protection.

For the first thirty days following Hue’s agonizing labor, I transferred 1.5 million Pesos to my mother’s bank account. It was a staggering sum for a man continue reading …