I was standing on the veranda of our mansion, looking out over the vast expanse of land that belonged to our family. I was Isabella, the sole heiress of the Dela Merced family. At the age of twenty-seven, I had it all—luxury cars, designer bags, and power. But despite all this, there was one thing that money couldn’t buy: true love. I had been cheated on several times. Several men had passed through my life who I thought were princes, but they were just “gold diggers” waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of me. That’s why when I met Mateo, a simple farmer on one of our haciendas in the province, alarm bells immediately rang in my brain. Mateo was handsome, yes. He had a slender body from the strain of working in the fields, and he had eyes that seemed to speak to your soul. He was very kind, thoughtful, and always brought fresh fruit or flowers whenever I went to the farm to inspect. I fell in love with him, something I never expected. We became. But along with love came intense fear and doubt. “Isabella, be careful,” said my best friend Carla. “He’s just a farmer. Are you sure he loves you and not the land he farms that will one day be his when he marries you?” Those words were like poison that slowly spread through my mind. I love Mateo, but what if they’re right? What if he’s just using me? I need to know the truth. I need to make sure I don’t become a victim again. And that’s where my plan was formed—a plan that would change both of our lives.

I planned an “accident.” With the help of a private doctor who was a family friend, we made it look like I had been in a car accident on the way to Mateo’s farm. My car had lost its brakes and crashed into a tree. There were no serious injuries, but the doctor said I had “temporary amnesia” due to head trauma. When I woke up in the small clinic in town, I saw Mateo. His eyes were bleary, he was obviously sleepless, and he was holding my hand as if it was his only connection to the world. “Honey,” he whispered, his voice full of concern. “Thank God you’re awake.” I slowly removed my hand from his grasp. I stared at him emotionlessly, as I had practiced. “Who are you?” I asked. I saw the world collapse in his eyes. “Isabella… it’s me. Mateo. Your boyfriend.” I shook my head. “I don’t know you. Where am I? Who am I?” The doctor who was my accomplice came in and explained the situation. He said I had no memory of my past, and since I didn’t have an ID with me back then, they didn’t know where I lived. All they knew was that Mateo was with me most of the time. “I’ll take you home, Mahal,” Mateo said, although there was a hint of fear in his voice. “I’ll take care of you until you remember.” This was the beginning of the ordeal.

I saw how he worked hard. He would wake up at four in the morning to plow, then he would sell vegetables at the market just so that someone would buy my “request”. Sometimes, I would see him eat leftovers and salt just so he could give me the delicious dish. But I wasn’t satisfied yet. I wanted to please him. I wanted to see the limits of his patience. I pretended to have a headache and needed “expensive medicine.” I gave him the names of vitamins that were supposed to be brain medicine, which cost thousands. “I need this, Mateo! My head hurts!” I cried. I saw the sadness and desperation on his face. He didn’t have that much money. “I’ll find a way, dear. I promise,” he said as he caressed my forehead.

The next day, Mateo disappeared for a long time. When he returned, he had medicine and some of my favorite fruit. But I noticed, the watch he was wearing was gone—the watch his late father had given him. That was his only inheritance. “Where is your watch?” I asked. He just smiled, but didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s broken, my dear. I threw it away. What’s important is, you have medicine.” I felt a pain in my chest. But I tried to harden my heart. He was only doing this because he hoped my memories and my wealth would return, my mind whispered. This was just an investment for him. A month passed. I became even more grumpy. I said I didn’t like the smell of him when he came home from the farm. I said I was irritated by the sound of crickets. I said I wanted expensive soap. He gave in to every whim, even though he was struggling. Mateo lost weight. He was getting tanned from too much sun exposure, and his hands were full of calluses and sores. But every night, before we went to bed, he would wipe me with warm water and sing to me until I fell asleep. “Even if you don’t remember me,” he would whisper once while he thought I was asleep, “I will remember you every day. Even if your wealth never comes back, as long as you are here, I will be rich.” I almost burst into tears, but I held it back. It was coming. Just a little longer, my pretense would be over.

One afternoon, while I was resting, I overheard the neighbors talking as they passed by. “Poor Mateo,” said a man. “He sold his buffalo just to provide for that woman.” “Yes, he did,” replied another. “Even the small piece of land he was farming, he mortgaged to the Captain. He will have nothing left for himself. He is also a fool in love.” I froze. His buffalo? That was his partner in business. Without that, how would he earn a living? And the land? That was his dream—to make it grow. Why would he do that for a woman who didn’t even remember him and who only complained to him? That night, I couldn’t rest. I was lying in bed but my spirit was wide awake. It was midnight when I felt Mateo get up. Slowly, so as not to wake me up. He picked up an old bag and left the hut. I was nervous. Where was he going? Was he going to leave me? Was this the point where he had given up?

I followed him silently. He walked to the bottom of a mango tree, a little far from the hut. He was talking on the phone—an old cellphone with just a keypad. I hid behind the plants to hear him. “Yes, Doc… Yes,” he said, his voice raspy. “I sent the money earlier. Is it still not enough? That’s all I’ve saved from mortgaging the land and selling the buffalo.” I frowned. What was the money for? For my medicine? “Please,” Mateo pleaded, and I saw his tears flowing under the moonlight. “Find his family. Hire an investigator, advertise on the radio or in the newspaper. Use all that money to find out who he really is and where he lives.” I was stunned. Not for the medicine. Not for him. He’s giving everything he has to… to get me back to my family? “I love him so much, Doc,” he continued, sobbing softly so I wouldn’t wake up in the hut. “But he doesn’t fit in here. I can see, he’s struggling. His skin is smooth, not for the peasants. His actions, for the rich. I can’t give him the life he deserves. As much as it hurts me to lose him, I’d rather see him happy and in good shape than here with me suffering. Even if he forgets me forever, as long as I know he’s safe and happy… I’m fine.”

My knees gave way right there. I knelt on the grass. The tears I had been holding back poured down like rain. All my life, I thought love was measured by what people could give you—gifts, money, security. But I was wrong. True love is tolerance. True love is the ability to sacrifice your own happiness for the good of the person you love. Mateo, who has nothing, is willing to give everything—including his future and his heart—just to bring me back to the life he thought I deserved, even if it meant losing him. Mateo heard my sobs. He turned around and was shocked to see me kneeling on the ground. “Honey? Isabella?” He immediately ran over to me and hugged me. “Why are you here? What hurts you? I’m going to take you to the hospital!” “Nothing…” I sobbed, hugging him tightly, tighter than any hug I had ever given before. “I don’t hurt anyone, Mateo. Forgive me… Forgive me…” “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault,” he asked, confused, as he wiped my tears with his rough palms. I stared into his eyes. I had nothing to hide. “Mateo, I know you. I didn’t lose my memory. I was just pretending.”

He froze. He let go of me slightly, as if he couldn’t believe it. “W-what? But why?” “Because I was scared,” I admitted, tears still flowing. “I was scared that you might only be after me for money. I was scared that you might just be like everyone else. That’s why I tested you. I wanted to see if you would still love me even though I had nothing to give you, even though I was a burden to you.” I saw the pain that passed through his eyes. The pain of doubting him. I bowed my head, ashamed. “I know I was wrong. I was so bad. You sacrificed so much… your watch, the carabao, the land… just because of my game. Forgive me, Mateo. If you’re angry, I’ll accept it. If you want to send me away, I’ll leave.” Silence. The only thing I could hear was the chirping of insects and my heart beating like it was going to explode from nervousness. Then, I felt my face lift. Mateo held my chin and stared at me, not with anger, but with a love deeper than the sea. “Are you stupid?” he said with a smile as tears also fell from his eyes. “No matter what happens, whoever you are, whether you’re rich or poor, you’re still the Isabella I love. I don’t need your money. All I need is you. The truth is, I was hurt that you doubted me… but I’m happier now because I know you’re okay. I know you know me.”

He hugged me again, and I felt a peace that I had never felt in our mansion. “We’re going back to the way things were, Mateo,” I promised him. “We’re going to get everything back. The land, the buffalo, everything you lost, I’ll double it. Not because I’m paying you, but because I want to build a life with you. I won’t test you anymore. I’ll just love you completely.” The next day, I told my family the truth. I stopped searching (which I knew was not the case). Using my own money, we bought Mateo’s land. We bought more buffalo and machinery for the farm. We had the hut built, not to be a mansion, but to be a comfortable home full of love. It wasn’t easy to forgive myself for what I had done, but Mateo taught me that love is forgiving. He proved that in a world where value is based solely on material things, there are still people who love sincerely and genuinely.

Now, every morning I wake up next to her, I look at her rough hands—the hands that were ready to sell everything for me. And I know, in my heart, that I am now the richest woman in the world. Not because of my money, but because I own the heart of a simple farmer named Mateo

Question for those who read:

If you were in Mateo’s situation, would you still forgive Isabella after knowing that she was just pretending and testing you so hard, even though your livelihood was gone?