The CEO’S Orphan Wife

It’s as if nothing transpired last night. Ivan awoke with a radiant smile, choosing to skip going to his office and instructing his secretary to deliver the papers he needed for signing instead.

Later on, we find ourselves seated in the garden. I’m engrossed in a book while he focuses on his work, opting not to discuss the events of last night.

Furthermore, he’s making plans for us to take a vacation next weekend. He mentioned that we’d depart on Friday evening and return on Sunday night. He had already informed his parents, and their response was simply encouragement for us to have a baby.

Earlier, after breakfast, my mother-in-law approached me discreetly. She had learned about what happened at the bar the previous night, and I confided in her about Maureen’s actions, detailing everything from the office to the bar.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“I’m worried, Mom. How many days from now do you think Ivan’s memory will come back?”

“Don’t fret, my dear. You are his wife. Even if his memory returns, I’m confident it won’t erase the wonderful moments you’ve shared, even though they all occurred in a shorter time compared to the years he spent with Maureen as a couple.”

In the depths of uncertainty, my heart clings to the belief that should Ivan’s memories resurface, he will continue to gaze upon me with affection, bestow upon me his tender kisses, and envelop me in his warm embrace.

I prepared snacks for him while he was working. And when three in the afternoon arrived, he began packing his belongings.

“Something returned to my memory…”

A cold shiver coursed from my head to my toes.

“I was driving, and then…” A crease formed on his forehead.

“Don’t push it…”

Could he have remembered the day of his accident?

“How about taking a road trip? Would you like to?” he proposed.

“Huh? Could you manage?”

“I believe I can manage.”

I examined his face. “It’s your choice if that’s what you want. Sure… I can drive, so if you get tired, I can take over.”

He nodded and smiled. “Let’s change clothes for now.”

And then I informed his parents about our plans.

“Alright, just be careful, okay? Take care…”

We drove north until we reached the expressway, then made a stop at a large church in Bulacan.

He parked his car, and then I asked, “Does this church hold any memories for you?”

I doubt that he and Maureen used to attend this church, so it’s surprising that we found ourselves here.

“I don’t know…”

We stepped into the church and prayed together.

For more than an hour, we remained seated, enveloped in a hushed atmosphere, our attention devoted to the altar. I couldn’t fathom his thoughts, but the turmoil from the previous night haunted him, and he was afraid of the prospect of his memories returning.

I’m relieved that we ended up here, grateful that he selected this sacred sanctuary.

He cast a glance toward the confession room. I don’t believe there’s a confession scheduled on days like today.

“Shall we go home?”

He nodded and stood up, grasping my hand. While we had originally intended to use the side exit, we spotted a group of people engrossed in conversation at the far end of the church.

“Why?” I inquired.

“I’d like to speak with the priest.”

The individual the priest had been conversing with was also leaving. The priest extended a smile in our direction, and we both extended our respect. The priest then inquired if we were a married couple.

Initially, I assumed Ivan was seeking a blessing, but his purpose ran deeper.

“Father, please pray for me… for us…”

Ivan went on to explain his situation, admitting to his amnesia, and he shared the details of our relationship, including the mention of Maureen. My eyes brimmed with tears as I deeply perceived the sincerity in Ivan’s demeanor and the gravity of our situation.

His resolve to remain faithful to our marriage was unwavering, and I sensed he was slowly recovering his memories, but found it difficult to confide in me. His desire to shield me from any anguish was profound, and his reverence for our marriage ran deep.

While the priest offered his prayers on our behalf, tears streamed down my cheeks, and I sensed the Holy Spirit’s presence enveloping my soul. In a generous gesture, Ivan emptied his wallet, contributing all his money to the church’s cause.

Upon returning to the car, our gazes met with a profound connection.

“Are you feeling better now?” I inquired, seeking to gauge his emotional state. He nodded and offered a reassuring smile.

“Shall we go?”

Instead of heading straight home, we decided to search for a place to eat. We stumbled upon a quaint eatery with charming huts where we enjoyed our meal. The dishes were delectable, and the prices were reasonable. While it wasn’t our usual dining spot, it offered a delightful and fresh experience for both of us.

Upon our return home, I discovered that my phone had run out of battery, and Ivan’s anxious parents met us.

“Sorry, Mom…”

“Where did you go?”

“To a church in Bulacan…”

The couple expressed surprise but soon broke into smiles, their eyes shining as they looked at their son.

They engaged us in conversation, so we postponed heading upstairs to rest.

“We understand that both of you are going through a challenging time at the moment. Your father and I discussed it earlier…”

“What is it, Mom?”

“Why don’t you consider going to America for a while?”

I fell into a contemplative silence. Were we contemplating an escape from the situation? It appeared that they, too, were worried that once their son fully recovered his memory, it might lead to the dissolution of our marriage.

Their suggestion is quite appealing. If it were solely up to me, I’d agree without hesitation. However, it’s not a decision I can make unilaterally. Both Ivan and I must agree on this matter.

“What about the company?” I inquired. Three minutes had passed, and Ivan still hadn’t given a response.

“We’ll consider it, Mom,” Ivan replied a while later.

“Alright, take your time, and reach a decision as soon as possible.”

As we went upstairs, Ivan stayed quiet. I thought he might want to take a shower by himself, like he did last night because he seemed lost in thought. But to my surprise, he suggested that we shower together.

“Is your period over?”

I laughed.

“Yeah…”

He led me into the bathroom, and I let out a scream. We playfully teased each other in the shower, sharing passionate kisses, and our desire led us to explore every corner of our bathroom intimately.

As we came out of the bathroom, we were utterly exhausted. We promptly collapsed, too weary to bother with getting dressed, drained of all our energy.

In the dead of night, a sequence of sharp knocks resounded through our door.

“Sir Ivan! Sir Ivan!”

Ivan remained sound asleep, undisturbed by the insistent pounding and the maid’s desperate calls.

I wrapped myself in a robe before answering the door to the maid’s urgent request.

“What’s the matter?”

With a phone clasped in her hand, I had a feeling I already knew who was at the other end of the line.

“Maureen, Ivan was fast asleep. You know that-”

“Myla, I’m pleading with you…” The woman appeared to be inebriated. She wept; her words slurred as she spoke.

“What is this again, Maureen?”

“Please… I’m pleading with you… I allowed Ivan to be with you for over a year. Please, return him to me. He loves me, Myla…”

“Maureen… Find someone else.” Despite my efforts to project resolve, my voice trembled.

I hung up the call and instructed the maid not to answer if the woman called again.

As I closed the door, I was startled to find Ivan awake.

“Maureen called. I think she’s drunk,” I informed him.

He gave a solemn nod and turned his eyes away. I could sense his apprehension towards Maureen, yet he refrained from reaching out to her, for he understood that acknowledging her would be akin to reopening the door to her presence in our lives.

“Let’s get some sleep…”

***

“Why didn’t you consider Ivan going to his office if you’re concerned?” my mother-in-law inquired.

I gently shook my head.

“Mom, hovering over him will only push Ivan further away. He’s resisting temptation, and I have faith in him.”

“But you can’t trust Maureen, Myla.”

“Indeed, Mom. That’s why I hope Ivan will agree to us moving to America.”

“Let’s persuade him.”

It was only four in the afternoon when Ivan returned home.

“Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” he assured, embracing me. I understood why he had come home at this hour. My mother-in-law’s secretary had called earlier, reporting that Maureen had visited, crying and seemingly in despair.

My heart has felt burdened for some time now. I sympathize with Maureen, knowing that my husband shares similar feelings for her.

Ivan invited me to have dinner outside, and I could discern his genuine effort to mend our relationship.

“Let’s go to the US,” he finally proposed as we lay in bed, just after having sex.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, love.”

My heart swelled with happiness; his choice was clear-he had chosen me.

“You might have regretted it.”

The return of his memories might lead to regret.

“I don’t believe I will.”

“Alright. Let’s discuss this with Dad and Mom tomorrow, but please contemplate it thoroughly.”

“I’m sure, love.”

I drifted to sleep with a content heart, only to awaken to the news that could potentially reshape our marital situation once more.

Maureen is in the hospital following her suicide attempt. Her parents and a friend hurried to my in-laws’ house early in the morning, pleading with Ivan to visit their daughter.

“Please, just have a conversation with her. She’ll only listen to you,” Maureen’s mother implored. Tears welled up in the eyes of both her parents, and if they could, they would have knelt and kissed our feet to gain our consent.

Ivan’s mother was furious and refused, while Ivan remained silent, though I could sense he was suppressing his emotions.

“Go see her,” I said resolutely, which took Ivan by surprise. Maureen needed him.

“Myla!” my mother-in-law exclaimed in disbelief.

I smiled as I turned to address her.

“Ivan will simply visit her, Mom. He’d only have a conversation with her.”

We arranged for his sister to accompany him even though she was initially reluctant. Ivan needed someone with him.

“I’ll be back soon,” Ivan said before he kissed me on the lips.

As he left, my tears streamed without restraint, and a profound ache enveloped me. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon my heart, as I couldn’t escape the feeling of being accountable for Maureen’s hospitalization and the turmoil Ivan was enduring.

One, two, and then three hours had elapsed, and Ivan still hadn’t returned. My mother-in-law bombarded my sister-in-law with texts, claiming that Ivan was still inside Maureen’s room, having a conversation with her and that she appeared to have calmed down somewhat.

“Come home immediately!” My mother-in-law was livid.

“Start packing,” she insisted, looking at me.

“Mom… Let’s not rush it. Ivan needs to determine when we’ll leave, or it might further unsettle his state of mind,” I suggested.

Ivan and his sister returned home after lunch. They mentioned they had persuaded Maureen to eat something.

My mother-in-law was expressing her frustrations while I maintained my silence. I wore a composed smile to reassure my husband that I was fine. He brought a cake for me, and we enjoyed it together before retiring to our room.

Later in the evening, Maureen’s friend called, reporting that Maureen was having another breakdown and was once again looking for Ivan.

The entire household was in turmoil because of the situation. My mother-in-law was determined to confront Maureen at the hospital, as her frustration was palpable.

Ivan remained silent, and so did I. I couldn’t bear the thought of letting him return there, fearing that Maureen would resume her actions.

We retired to our beds that night, only to be greeted by Maureen’s family once more the following morning.

“It’s a doctor that Maureen needs, not Ivan. My son is already married!”

Maureen’s parents responded, “We’re all aware that Ivan doesn’t love his wife.”

I was deeply affected by those words, though they infuriated my in-laws. Instead of offering sympathy and suggesting that Ivan visit the woman for a while, I remained silent, giving Maureen’s parents a stern look.

“I hope you understand the concept of respect. Ivan and I are married. What parents are you if you condone your daughter becoming a mistress?!”

This led to a heated argument, with the household helpers ultimately stepping in to escort Maureen’s family out. My mother-in-law refused to allow Ivan to go to work, causing him to be restless throughout the day.

I’m contemplating leaving him and allowing him to be with Maureen. It’s because he’s profoundly affected by all of this. If he continues in this state, I’ll only end up hurting even more.

“If you want to go to her, then go.”

“M-Myla…”

I summoned a smile. “It’s okay, go to her.”

He embraced me, and our lips met for a few minutes.

“Are you coming with me?”

I shook my head.

“Just go with the bodyguards or with your sister or brother.”

My sister-in-law was livid when Ivan requested her company, and her anger was directed at me as well, including my mother-in-law.

“Myla, do you realize what you’re doing?”

We had a conversation after Ivan and his sister left the home.

“I can’t bear to see Ivan so bewildered, Mom. I sense that he’s deeply hurt and concerned about Maureen. We all know she’s the one he truly loves.”