The CEO’S Orphan Wife

I lost consciousness, and the duration eluded me. Upon regaining awareness, an unusual noise enveloped me-the resonant hum of a formidable engine. Unsure if it originated from the vessel, a more clamorous sound ensued. My eyes remained shut, shrouding me in uncertainty about my surroundings. Amidst the chaos, echoes of screams, gunfire, and an urgent call of my name reached my ears. Then, all plunged into darkness once again.

Upon waking, a white ceiling and bright light greeted me.

“I-Ivan?!”

The man I addressed approached with concern, and tears welled up in his eyes as he saw me.

“I had a bad dream,” I murmured. He enveloped me in a tight hug.

“Yes, love. It’s just a bad dream.”

We are presently at the hospital. Ivan is in good condition, while there’s a bag of intravenous cellulose water hanging, connected to my arm. I lost consciousness and had to undergo stitching for the wound on my cheek. The doctor mentioned that it was a deep and relatively large cut, necessitating stitches.

Ivan was seated on the bed, holding me tightly. I remain silent, attempting to set aside the events that transpired, but numerous questions linger.

“What happened? How did we manage to escape from there?”

“Somebody came to help us.”

“Who?”

“Do you remember Candy?”

“Hmmm? Candy saved us? How?”

“No. They were Morgan’s men.”

“Really? How did they know we were there?”

“Before I came to you, I contacted them. I went ahead because I was afraid they might hurt you,” Ivan sighed. I held his hand, and my chest tightened.

“Are you o-okay?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“Yes. How about you?”

I affirmed with a nod.

“I’m glad that someone came to help.”

“Don’t dwell on that, okay? I want you to forget it. Forget it, please?”

With tears welling in my eyes, I nodded, seeking to dispel the memory.

“She’s dead,” he muttered, referring to Maureen.

“D-Did Morgan’s men kill her?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes.” I couldn’t perceive any sadness in his expression, or maybe I just found it challenging to understand people’s emotions.

I refrained from asking further questions. What mattered most was our safety and the assurance of returning home with our daughter alive.

Ivan explained, “I arranged for Heather to be picked up by Dad and Mom. Fortunately, Rachelle agreed to do it. Lucinda accompanied them to Manila.”

It appeared that our daughter should be there for the time being.

I wasn’t discharged immediately because the next day, we had an appointment with a therapist. Ivan recommended it. He wanted to ensure that the incident didn’t cause severe trauma. Of course, it did! But yes, therapy can help us overcome trauma.

I must stay strong for Heather. Both of us need to maintain mental stability for our daughter and emotional well-being for our family.

Ivan looked after me attentively. Even after we finished our meal, I found it challenging to sleep, so I watched his every action.

“Why?” He paused and looked at me with surprise. He approached me, and I shook my head firmly, avoiding eye contact.

He took a seat at the bedside, adjusting my blanket.

“Rest now,” he instructed. I closed my eyes, not particularly tired, but aware of his presence. His sigh seemed heavy with the burden of his troubles.

Maureen had passed away. Naturally, he was contemplating that.

***

We’re on our way home to the Greco mansion now, and I’m eagerly anticipating the moment I reunite with my daughter. Unaware of the recent events, she only knew that her daddy and I had embarked on a business trip.

As we arrived, the maids warmly greeted us at the entrance, informing us that Heather was in the garden. Ivan and I strolled around until we reached the garden. A smile spread across my face when I spotted the two elders swaying on the swings with Heather. They had set up three swings, a slide, and a sizable dollhouse on the side.

“Heather!” I called out to my child, who appeared to be quietly swaying on the swing. I could sense her sadness; she must miss me, undoubtedly.

She lifted her face. “Mommy?!”

Swiftly, she descended from the swing, dashed towards me, and enveloped me in a tight embrace.

“Mommy, I miss you so much!”

I held her closely. God, thank you! Thank you for preserving my life for my daughter. Thank you for keeping us alive.

Heather had numerous questions. She inquired about where her daddy and I had gone on a date.

“Do I have a sibling?”

Both her father and I were wide-eyed at her question. When my gaze fell upon Lucinda, it seemed like I already knew who had taught her that.

Lucinda approached me, and even before she uttered a word, I fixed her with a stern gaze, concerned that she might reveal the truth. Heather should remain unaware of it, as I am concerned about the potential emotional impact it could have on her. The revelation might wound her deeply, and she might need days to come to terms with the reality.

Heather inquired about the bruises on our faces, mine and her father’s. We explained that we had an accident on our way home but assured her that we were okay now. Despite her numerous inquiries, her father and I continually reassured her that everything was under control.

Before heading upstairs, we enjoyed some snacks. Nestled on the bed, we indulged in a movie. While Ivan and I relaxed, Heather was engrossed in the adventure unfolding on the screen, munching on chips with wide-eyed fascination.

I shut my eyes, feeling exhaustion settling in. Both my body and mind craved rest.

“Are you okay?” I reopened my eyes, meeting Ivan’s concerned gaze. I offered a faint smile and nodded.

“Just a bit sleepy.”

“Go ahead and take a nap.” I shifted my position, attempting to hug Heather, but she resisted. I simply wished to hold her, yet I chose not to insist, aware that she preferred uninterrupted movie enjoyment.Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

A longing for someone to embrace lingered within me. I desired to hug Ivan but hesitated, sensing he was lost in thought.

I gently tapped his arm. “You should get some sleep,” I suggested, as it seemed like that’s what he needed at the moment-some rest.

***

The sun was about to set when I woke up. I was alone on the bed, finding Ivan seated on the sofa, engrossed in his laptop. Meanwhile, Heather was likely downstairs, enjoying playtime with her grandparents.

I observed Ivan’s behavior, noticing the seriousness etched on his face with furrowed brows. Deciding not to disturb him at the moment, I went to the bathroom for a swift face wash and gargle. Upon returning, I was surprised to find Ivan waiting just outside the bathroom door.

“How are you feeling?” he inquired. I averted my gaze, feeling an unexpected uneasiness.

“I’m okay. How about you?” I couldn’t meet his eyes. Only a few moments earlier, I had a dream, and upon waking, it felt like something inside me had changed.

He simply nodded. Was that his response to my question? Turning away, he returned to the sofa, leaving me perplexed. What was going on with this guy?

“I’ll finish this before we head down for dinner,” he mentioned.

Seated on the bed, I occasionally glanced at him. It felt as though something had indeed changed in him.

***

We descended to the dining area together for our meal. Ivan and I maintained a quiet behavior while Mom, Dad, and Heather engaged in lively conversation. Yeah, I reverted to calling them Mom and Dad once again. They expressed that it stung when I addressed them as Aunt and Uncle. Even before Ivan and I tied the knot, they already considered themselves my parents.

After our meal, we relaxed in the garden. My mother-in-law sipped on some tea, and the guys enjoyed a glass of whiskey each. Lucinda, my sister-in-law, and I opted for red wine.

“Any alcohol for kids?” We chuckled at Heather, who held a glass of milk.

“No, just milk for the little one,” my mother-in-law responded. Heather pouted, casting a glance at the glasses we were holding.

“When can I have wine?” Ivan and I shared a glance. I smiled, while his expression remained serious.

As the three of us reclined on the bed, I pondered about her-Maureen. Was Ivan grappling with Maureen’s death to this extent?

My in-laws avoided addressing that issue. I know their disapproval of Maureen, likely intensified now by her deeds.

***

In the early morning, as I had breakfast, Ivan’s parents cast fleeting glances in my direction.

“Why?” I sensed that they had something to tell me, but they struggled to articulate it.

Until Ivan’s friends arrived, carrying bottles of alcohol. What was this about? Did they visit their friend to offer condolences for Maureen’s death?

“You haven’t been answering calls, so we decided to come here ourselves,” they explained.

Ivan briefly glanced at me, but I avoided meeting his gaze. Although he was speaking to me, I felt a casualness in his behavior. My chest tightened, and my emotions weighed heavily… I just couldn’t explain.

“When are you leaving?” inquired one of his friends.

“Early in the morning,” my husband replied nonchalantly. Is he leaving? Early in the morning? Why? And where is he going?

“I will be heading to the US next month; let’s arrange to meet there.”

In the US? Next month? Is he planning to stay there until next month? Why does it feel like it’s taking so long? And what is he going to do there?

My heart felt heavy; I was so upset. I wanted to leave, but we were sitting at the dining table.

After the meal, I went upstairs. Heather played with her cousins, and fortunately, Lucinda is here to look after her.

I tried not to cry out of frustration.

I can only concentrate on one thing at the moment-Ivan is grieving. Desiring to escape, he plans to go to America. As far as I understand, he will be supervising a branch of their company there.

He’s the only one heading there. He’s not taking Heather and me. Damn it! I thought he loved me. Did his feelings for me change because of what happened and Maureen’s passing?

The door opened, but I didn’t look. My eyes remained fixed on the television, even though I didn’t like the movie.

Ivan went into the bathroom. I shot him a hostile look from behind.

When he emerged from the bathroom, I pretended not to care. I thought he was going to leave, but he approached me.

“Are you okay?” he inquired.

I sighed, wanting to express my feelings but choosing to restrain myself.

“So, you’re leaving,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“Yeah…” He sighed and took a seat beside me. A slight distance lingered between us.

I contemplated asking if he planned to take us with him or how long he’d be gone, but I hesitated to pursue him once more. Shouldn’t he be the one to initiate reconciliation this time? To take decisive action? I didn’t want to impose myself on his life if we were already growing apart.

“Myla…”

I sat up straight.

“Yes?” I avoided looking at him. The corners of my eyes began to burn.

“I-I’m setting you free…”

My mind went blank. For a few seconds, I processed his words. My eyes widened as I fully absorbed the meaning. I thought he was just leaving, but what is this?

Does he want to exit my life as well? Is that what he desires?

“W-What? What do you mean?” My voice broke.

He averted his gaze.

“I will initiate the annulment process,” he declared, his voice chillingly indifferent. His face remained unreadable as he turned away from me.

“Why?” I faltered. My lips trembled, but no words escaped.

“I feel like I no longer deserve you. Even in the past, I was unworthy of you.”