The CEO’S Orphan Wife

I was lazily sitting in the office when my friends arrived.

“If you want to know what she’s up to, ask her, or better yet, investigate.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Don’t deny it, Ivan. You can’t hide anything from us. We can see that you’re starting to care about your wife.”

“Your cellphone was also turned off. Was it because you’re avoiding Maureen?”

“Well, good job!”

***

I got home at six in the evening, but Myla hadn’t returned yet. Seated on the sofa, I silently surveyed the entire house. The pervasive quietness left me with a sense of solitude. Could this be the reason she doesn’t stay here for long? She left early and was still away at this hour.

I stood up, intending to go upstairs when the door opened. She was surprised to see me and mustered a forced smile.

“Good evening.” Without asking if I had eaten, she ascended the stairs.

Tsk!

Feeling hungry, I decided to have dinner somewhere else. The next day, she arrived home even later.

“What time is it?” I asked irritably. It was already ten thirty at night. She was taken aback by the sound of my voice.

I intended to inquire why she returned home so late, but unfortunately, hurtful words escaped my lips; I uttered some hurtful remarks. She wept, and her cries were audible even from the bathroom. It weighed on my conscience. Throughout my workday, thoughts of her lingered in my mind.

The next day, she came home early and cooked a meal, but didn’t invite me to join.

Despite her distress, she still went out of her way to cook for me. Once again, she sent a packed lunch my way, but I refrained from consuming it.

“Sir, aren’t you going to eat this?” my secretary inquired.

“Just go ahead and eat it,” I replied casually.

She scratched her head and stared at me for a long moment.

“What is it?” I asked lazily.

“I feel guilty about eating your wife’s dishes, Sir.”

And why should I feel guilty about it?

She approached me and placed a paper bag on my desk. “What are you doing?”

“Sir, Ms. Myla has been preparing meals for you before your annulment, so please enjoy this.”

“What are you talking about?”

She took out the food containers.

“I said I won’t eat that.”

My eyes focused on the sticky note attached to the food container. It had “Day twenty-four” written on it. My secretary pulled out a few pieces of sticky notes from her pocket.

“These are the first ones,” she said, handing me one sticky note.

“I understand that living with a wife you never wanted has been incredibly challenging. After a month, you can initiate the annulment process. I’ll talk to your parents about it, but it can’t be hurried. Their anniversary is on the 28th. By the way, allow me to cook for you for a month-Myla.”

My secretary sighed heavily.

“I can’t stomach Ms. Myla’s cooking anymore, Sir.”

Tsk! She waited twenty-four days before confiding in me.

A weight settled in my chest as I looked at the food in front of me. I, too, didn’t know why.

I headed home early. Myla was already there, cooking and softly singing.

A heaviness lingered as I observed her. Why was I feeling this way? Shouldn’t I be relieved that we’re parting?

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I gazed at my wife, sound asleep on the floor, seemingly comfortable. After my parents’ anniversary, that’s what she said, and my emotions became more perplexing, knowing that Myla and I would soon go our separate ways.

“I’ve made your favorite dish. I’m heading out to meet friends tonight and should be back soon, probably before midnight.”

And where is she going? She didn’t specify. And who are these friends she’s going out with? What if they are men?

I’ve been pondering this for days, unsure if I’m just out of my mind. Still, there’s no harm in giving it a shot. I want to mend things with Myla and avoid regrets in the end.

I like her. I might be falling for my wife, perhaps a while back, but I wasn’t ready to admit it.

I rushed home but didn’t make it.

When I woke up, my memories were fuzzy, especially of the woman who claimed to be my wife. I can’t seem to remember her, no matter how hard I try. What does stick in my mind is having a girlfriend whom I deeply love.

I’m in a state of confusion, yet I opt to uphold my commitment to my marriage. Even when there are moments when my mind argues that Maureen should be by my side, I choose to remain with my compassionate wife. She possesses both inner and outer beauty. It wouldn’t be surprising if she’s the one I married.

I chose her despite my heart and mind not supporting my decision, even as Maureen continued to occupy my thoughts. I want to be a good husband to Myla, striving not to disappoint her and ensuring I harbor no resentment.

However, one day, she left me. She professed her love, yet she left. Why? Did she grow weary of me? I’m striving to make amends even though I couldn’t recall anything. I picked her even though I was aware that Maureen was the one I loved. Was my effort falling short?

If she’s the one who gave up, perhaps we truly aren’t meant for each other. Moreover, Maureen also relies on me. She was the one I genuinely loved. My family was furious with me because of Myla’s leaving. My head frequently throbs with pain. In the second week after Myla left, I lost consciousness due to an intense headache.

Upon regaining consciousness, the forgotten portion of my memory came back. God! I love my wife! Shit! I feel a profound regret. If only I had clasped her hands, she wouldn’t have left me. Expressing my love could have prevented her from leaving me.

“Search for her! When are you going to search for her? When she has already found someone else? When she’s already married?”

Myla cannot marry because we are still married, and I know she won’t dedicate her time to such matters.

***

I revisited the house I constructed, the embodiment of Myla’s dream home. After she moved out, I collected the things she left behind. That’s when I found the blueprint for her ideal house.

Once it is complete, I plan to seek her out and reconcile. However, my intentions were disrupted by an unexpected call from my mom.

“Son, your dad found a child at the mall and brought her home.”

A furrow formed on my brow. Why did my father bring a child home? What if he could be accused of kidnapping?All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“She’s an adorable girl, and she knows you.”

“What?” My mind raced to comprehend the situation. I had engaged in some hookups while with Maureen, but I always prioritized protection. Even during my time with Maureen, I consistently used condoms. Since Myla’s departure, I hadn’t been involved with any other woman.

“Mom!”

“Her name is Heather, and her mom’s name is Myla.”

What?

A chill ran down my spine, rendering me momentarily deaf to the ensuing conversation.

“Ivan, go home first.”

“O-Okay, Mom.”

I couldn’t fathom what my mom had shared. I initially thought it was a prank, as she earnestly desired a grandchild from both Myla and me. However, upon returning home, the truth still eluded me. I began to believe that the little girl my father was holding was, indeed, my own child.

The resemblance between the little girl and me was remarkable.

“Daddy!” She swiftly approached me, wrapping her arms around my legs.

Picking her up, I inquired, “What’s your name?”

“My name is Heather Costa!”

My mom presented the identification card she was carrying when they saw her.

Her name is Heather Costa, and her mother’s name… Oh my! I have a daughter! Myla and I were her parents.

I dialed the contact number presented on her ID and confirmed that it was Myla. She was avoiding me, and only now did I discover the reason for her leaving.

I explained myself to her. Despite the pain she endured because of me, I knew she wouldn’t easily accept me. Even if she makes it challenging, I understand it’s all worth it if the outcome is a lifetime of love and unity for both of us.

“My dearest, Myla.” My eyes warmed as I gazed at the incredibly beautiful bride before me.”

“Thank you for everything that you have done for me. For the love and patience that you exerted. Without your immeasurable love, we wouldn’t have come this far, and I wouldn’t be as happy. I wouldn’t have recognized that you’re the one revealing the signs I’ve been seeking. I’m not a perfect man, and in the past, I’ve made many mistakes that I later regretted. But please know, I never regretted marrying you years ago. I promise to do my best to be a good and responsible husband. Thank you for taking me back and granting me the privilege of being your husband. In both good times and bad, you’ll find me by your side. Together, we’ll create a home filled with love. I love you till eternity and beyond.”

Myla wiped away the tears streaming down both of my cheeks. She smiled, although her eyes and nose were visibly red.

I promise, all your tears from now on will be a result of overwhelming happiness.

“My Ivan… No words can express how much I’m feeling right now. I cherish your love, and the love you share with me and Heather is the most precious gift I’ve ever received. For years, I prayed for you. It took time, but I believe everything unfolds for a reason. The obstacles and challenges that nearly pulled us apart only strengthened us, made us wiser, and deepened our love. All the sacrifices and the pain were worth it. You and Heather are my treasures-your beautiful faces are a sight I will never grow tired of waking up to. I love you, my husband.”

“Cheers to the newlyweds!” exclaimed our loved ones as I sealed my commitment with a kiss on my wife’s sweet lips.

Our wedding was a simple beach ceremony on the island Myla acquired. Our guests were carefully selected-only close relatives and friends who genuinely love and rejoice in our happiness.

I am overjoyed that, after many years, destiny brought us back together after a brief separation. I prayed for this. While I may not be religious, Myla has taught me that faith and abundant prayers nurture a relationship, allowing it to grow and thrive.

“Are you okay?” I asked Myla because she had been quiet and seemed a bit down. We took some photos before eating. The preparations were early, so she was probably famished by now.

“Yes, just a little famished.”

“We’ll be eating shortly.”

The photographer instructed all the guests to join the photo session.

“Okay, 1, 2, 3, smile!”

“I’m pregnant!”

I stared at Myla. “What did she say?”

Mom and my sister erupted in joyful screams. Our friends joined the celebration, but I stood there in shock.

“You’re… You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I’m five weeks pregnant!”

I punched the air. “Yes!”

I lifted her and planted her numerous kisses.

“We’re going to be a family of four. Thank you, love. I love you.”

“I love you too, Ivan Nicholo Greco.”