The CEO’S Orphan Wife

In the past, I would frequently indulge in social parties, particularly during my college days. However, after marrying Ivan, I refrained from joining my friends on their outings, regardless of their persistent invitations. I aimed to avoid becoming a topic of gossip, and I also wanted to make sure that Ivan didn’t perceive me as someone who was still living a carefree single life, even though I was aware that Ivan remained unconcerned.

Before six o’clock, we headed to the basement parking lot. Our journey to their designated meeting place, a bar and restaurant in Makati, was a half-hour drive. This is where Ivan’s friends were planning to gather.

Although I was familiar with his friends, I could count on one hand the number of times I had engaged in conversations or interactions with them in the past. When they visited our home after I had married Ivan, he didn’t usually introduce me to them. However, I ended up serving them because we didn’t have any house helpers.

My mind was drifting, wondering where all of this was leading. I leaned against Ivan’s shoulder in an attempt to gain his attention. He was gazing out of the car window, lost in his thoughts.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly while gently caressing his hand, which rested on my thigh.

“Yeah, just a bit tired, but I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he reassured me.

Ivan gently stroked my hair, his lips curved into a smile, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of unease. Something weighed on his mind. Nonetheless, I refrained from probing further. It was essential for him to put aside whatever was troubling him.

Upon our arrival, all of Ivan’s friends were in attendance. There were only three of them, as Fourth was notably absent, reportedly out of town.

The women of his friends appeared courteous but somewhat reserved. They often kept to themselves, offering subtle smiles and occasionally engaging in conversation with their partners.

Ivan held my hand, which was resting on my thigh. There was a glass of alcohol in front of him, which he sipped gradually.

“Are you starting to get impatient?” he murmured in my ear. I shook my head, content to stay with him and his friends as long as he wanted to be there.

We shared smiles, and he planted a kiss on my lips, causing my eyes to widen. I wasn’t accustomed to his public displays of affection, especially among people who were well aware of the true nature of our relationship and what I truly meant to him.

“Thank you, Myla…” I raised my gaze when Angus spoke.

“Huh?”

“Thank you for being such a wonderful partner to our friend. Our vote is for you. If he ever mistreats you, don’t hesitate to let us know. We’ve got your back…”

I smiled. “Thank you…”

They used to hang out with Maureen in the past, so it’s heartwarming to know they’re supporting me as their friend’s significant other.

And speaking of the devil bitch, I just spotted her at the bar counter. Probably, she arrived not long ago, possibly tipped off about Ivan’s presence. She’s in the company of her friends, and it seems a few gentlemen have taken an interest in their group.

As my focus shifted, Ivan’s friends couldn’t help but perceive the change in my attention. Caius discreetly cleared his throat and shared a meaningful, knowing look with Ivan. My husband, too, redirected his eyes toward that direction. He let out a sigh and then enveloped me with his arm, gently reassuring me with a tender squeeze on my arm.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked once more.

“And you? Would you like to head home?” I cast a glance at his friends, then whispered to him,

“Later…”

“Alright, let me know if you start feeling uncomfortable.”

“Okay.”

They continued their conversation, displaying a nonchalant demeanor despite Maureen’s presence in the bar. Ivan’s friends requested another bottle of alcohol. They were seasoned drinkers, and although slightly tipsy, they maintained their composure.

Intermittently, the female partners of Ivan’s friends discreetly observed Maureen, their curiosity stirred by her being there.

Ivan’s friend responded to them in hushed tones, and upon learning Maureen’s identity, their partners offered me sympathetic glances. I responded with a reassuring smile. I was perfectly fine, but their consideration was appreciated.

“Ivan, you’re here!” Maureen couldn’t restrain herself and came over to our table. Her lack of respect was evident.

“Oh, hi, Caius, it’s been a while. Angus, do you have a new girlfriend, I see? Oh… Isn’t she Aurora’s maid, your ex?”

Maureen’s comment made Angus’s girlfriend avert her gaze, while I clenched my fist in frustration at Maureen’s audacious behavior. Angus’s jaw tensed.

“Hello, Huxley. Celeste sent her regards. She had quite a few stories about you, huh… She mentioned that she had a great time with you…”

Huxley’s girlfriend cast a disapproving glance at Maureen.

“Maureen…” Ivan scolded her with frustration.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“What on earth are you up to?”

“I was just greeting them. Is that such a big deal?”

I regarded her with a stern look. If she made a misstep, I might not be able to contain my reaction any longer.

However, she only grinned, clearly having indulged in a fair amount of alcohol. Her eyes were unfocused, and it appeared she was intensifying her audacity.

I expected her to say more, but she abruptly turned away from us. I believed her disturbance had drawn to a close, but it became apparent that this was merely the prelude to her actions.

The change in the atmosphere among the women in the couples with us was palpable. Maureen had undeniably cast a shadow over it.

“Hello!”

I tightly closed my eyes upon hearing Maureen’s voice on the stage, holding the microphone.

“I’m going to sing a song. This is for my boyfriend, Ivan Nicholo Greco!”

“What the hell!” our companions exclaimed.

“He’s over there-with his wife!”

The crowd reacted. Some cheered, and others taunted.

“Shit!”

“If she doesn’t stop, you’ll be in the media tomorrow,” Caius warned.

Ivan massaged his temple, a gesture of frustration evident on his face. The thought of removing Maureen from the stage crossed my mind, yet I hesitated, unsure whether it would fix our predicament.

The woman had completely lost her sense of shame. Could she genuinely take pride in publicly declaring her role as a mistress? It astounded me. Her willingness to descend to such depths is a testament to her complete lack of shame.

“I see that look in your eyes, folks! Don’t judge me. I’m not the other woman. Yes, he’s married, but I’m not his mistress. He’s been my boyfriend for several years. And this woman, she a slut and forced my boyfriend to marry her.”

“Ivan, I’m willing to wait. I can patiently wait for your marriage to be annulled, just as we have agreed. I love you.”

The people nearby became increasingly agitated, their inquisitiveness compelling them to find out the identity of the man Maureen was talking about. While some were clearly unaware of our situation, I could discern that a handful of individuals in the room, particularly those from privileged backgrounds, recognized the person she had referred to.

“Hit it, maestro!”

Maureen began to sing, delivering their signature song. I recognized their theme song, which I had heard during their gatherings at the mansion.

Ivan massaged his temples, and I maintained my silence. Tears welled up within me, but I managed to keep my composure. I could endure this.

Maureen sang “Perfect Two” with tears streaming down her face. During the performance, Ivan’s eyes remained shut, and his friends gazed at us with apprehension.

Angus signaled the waiter and asked for the bill.

“Let’s head home… We’ll all leave together,” Caius suggested.

After settling the bill, we all rose from our seats. Maureen’s song was drawing to a close, and she didn’t complete it.

“Ivan! I love you very much! I’ll patiently await your return. Please, keep me in your thoughts.

Please…

I’m aware that everyone is sympathizing with Maureen. She’s in tears, and I can’t help but feel sorry for her.

I can’t help but feel like the antagonist in this situation. If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t be apart. However, they’re not truly separated. I know their communication has remained intact because she’s the one Ivan cares about.

Throughout our trip, Ivan remained silent, his eyes closed, and he had been massaging his forehead for some time. I made the choice to remain silent, allowing him his space.

It’s possible that during this moment, some of his memories were resurfacing due to recent events. As the car approached the village gate, I reached out and held Ivan’s hand.

He opened his bloodshot eyes, causing me to avert my gaze. I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face at that moment. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

“I’ll take the bath first,” he mumbled, showing little enthusiasm. He wasn’t the affectionate partner who usually joined me in the shower, resulting in shared moments and bedtime.

“O-Okay,” I replied with a smile.

As I waited for him to finish, my tears began to fall slowly. In the past, I was resolute about leaving. But now… why does it feel like I can’t bear to part ways anymore? We’re happy, and I can sense that he may have feelings for me.

Could he be exclusively mine? We’re already married, God.

Can I have Ivan all to myself? Please lead Maureen to someone else to love.

I’m aware of the grave mistake I’ve made against her and Ivan, but, Lord, I never intended to compel my husband into this union.

When Ivan turned off the bathroom faucet, I swiftly brushed away my tears and stood up to take my turn in the shower.

Tears streamed down my face as I stood beneath the shower’s spray. The pain was overwhelming, and even with my eyes closed, I could vividly picture Maureen’s pitiful and tear-stained face from earlier. Her words and cries seemed to linger in my ears, echoing in my mind.

Once I’d finished showering, I resolved not to shed any more tears. I lay down beside my husband, who was lost in thought, his arm shielding his forehead.

“Goodnight,” I whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, and then closed my eyes.

“Myla?”

I paused for a brief instant, summoning the strength to lock eyes with him. It was as if I dreaded what his words might hold.

In quiet contemplation, I observed him. His eyes brimmed with tears, and my own emotions surged, impossible to contain.

I embraced him, and together we wept quietly, holding onto one another.

Oh, God. Is this goodbye? Please, don’t tell me you’re releasing me. I’m not ready. Not yet, please…

“I’m sorry, Myla.”

I couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably.

“No… Don’t apologize. I should be the one saying sorry…” I restrained myself from breaking down.

“I’m sorry for what happened. I’ll take responsibility for Maureen’s actions earlier.”

Is this not a farewell yet? I wiped away my tears and held his gaze.

“I’m feeling confused, love… Sorry… Unwanted thoughts keep invading my mind, disrupting my thoughts. They’re troubling this,” he murmured, pointing to his chest.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“I understand. I’m your understanding wife, remember? There’s no need to apologize.”

Silence enveloped us once more. I refrained from pushing him further, especially considering the memories that had reemerged due to recent events.

Maybe Maureen is experiencing profound joy at this moment. She deliberately orchestrated it to etch herself into Ivan’s memory.

My husband drifted off to sleep before I did, cradling me in his embrace. I studied his face, realizing that I might only have a few days left with him.

“I cherish you deeply, Ivan. Wherever your happiness lies, that’s where you’ll find me. Love isn’t selfish, and I’m prepared to set you free…”