The night Felix was discharged from the hospital was heavy with unspoken emotions. His body was weak, but his mind was racing. The weight of his family's situation pressed on him like never before.
He walked into the house quietly, ignoring his mother's pleas to rest. He muttered something about being fine and retreated to his room, locking the door behind him.
Inside the safety of his room, Felix sank to the floor, his back against the door. For the first time in years, he let his emotions take over.
"Dad… when will you wake up?" he whispered into the silence, his voice trembling. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched his knees. "I can't do this anymore. I need you. Please… come back."
The room offered no answers, only the faint hum of the night outside. Exhausted, Felix wiped his tears and climbed into bed, falling into a restless sleep.
By the time the family woke up the next morning, Felix was already gone.
Juan knocked on his door around 7:00 a.m., expecting to find him still asleep. When there was no answer, she opened the door to find an empty bed.
"Felix?" she called out, panic rising in her chest.
Grace yawned as she emerged from her room, holding the baby. "What's going on?"
"Felix is gone," Juan said, pacing the hallway.
Joseph, still groggy, joined them. "He's probably at work," he said, though he looked worried too.
"He was just discharged from the hospital!" Juan exclaimed. "Why would he go to work?"
"Because he thinks he has no other choice," Joseph muttered under his breath.
Felix arrived at the construction site at 8:30 a.m., ready to throw himself back into work despite his weakened state. His coworkers, noticing his pale complexion, urged him to take it easy.
"Felix, you just got out of the hospital," one of them said. "You shouldn't even be here."
"I'm fine," Felix replied curtly, picking up a heavy load of bricks.
"You're going to kill yourself," another said, shaking his head.
Felix didn't respond. He couldn't afford to slow down, not when his family's livelihood was at stake.
Back at home, Juan sat at the dining table, her hands trembling. "I can't let him keep doing this," she said to herself. "It's killing him."
Grace sat across from her, feeding the baby. "Mom, he's stubborn. He won't listen to anyone."
Joseph, seated nearby, looked up from his homework. "Maybe if we all chipped in, he wouldn't have to work so hard."
Juan shook her head. "Grace needs to recover, and I… I'm not strong enough to work anymore."
Grace glanced away, guilt flickering in her eyes. Deep down, she knew her mother was right, but she still couldn't bring herself to take responsibility.
Joseph sighed. "Then we need to find another way. Felix can't carry this alone."
As the day wore on, Grace found herself thinking about Felix's silent breakdowns, his relentless determination, and the sacrifices he had made for their family.
"He sold everything precious to him," she thought, staring at the baby in her arms. "And what have I done to help?"
For the first time in months, Grace felt a pang of shame. Perhaps it was time for her to step up.
Felix returned home late that night, his body aching from the day's labor. He moved quietly, avoiding any conversation, and went straight to his room.
Juan watched him go, tears in her eyes. "How long can this go on before he breaks completely?" she wondered.
Felix's struggles were far from over, and the family knew they had to find a way to support him before it was too late.