The CEO’S Orphan Wife

“Are you certain you’re prepared to return to work?” inquired my father-in-law to Ivan.

During our breakfast, we recounted an early morning when we strolled through the village’s nearby park.

“Yes, Dad. I’m confident that I’m ready to get back to work. I’m fine, thanks to my wife excelled in looking after me,” Ivan replied.

His family observed us with curious gazes. I exchanged a smile with Ivan, and he spontaneously gave me a kiss, causing my cheeks to flush with warmth. Overwhelmed with embarrassment, I couldn’t bring myself to meet the gaze of his parents and siblings.

“We’re delighted that you’ve chosen to reconcile with Myla instead of-”

Ivan’s sister was unable to complete her sentence as their father cleared his throat. He offered a smile and changed the subject.

“We’re delighted for both of you. Are you planning to have a baby?”

My period arrived today, so pregnancy isn’t a possibility at the moment. Additionally, I intend to visit the OB-GYN later to obtain contraceptives to prevent any unplanned pregnancies in the future if my husband and I continue our intimate moment.

My sole ambition is to enhance our connection and build a happy family with Ivan. Nevertheless, introducing a vulnerable child into this world would be unwise at the moment, as their well-being could be significantly impacted if Ivan and I don’t succeed in our relationship.

I often find myself consumed by pessimistic thoughts, I’m aware of that. It’s because not everything in this world is permanent, much like Ivan’s amnesia. It’s merely a temporary condition, and when his memory eventually returns, his unkind behavior toward me may resurface.

Each night, I pray to God, questioning whether Ivan and I can persist in this state, shielding him from the resurgence of his past memories that have only given rise to his hostility towards me.

Yet, I understand that this isn’t love. Love isn’t self-centered.

While seated at the breakfast table, I find my thoughts shrouded in negativity, an unwelcome companion to my morning meal.

“What’s your opinion?” Ivan inquired.

“Huh?” Did I just zone out?

“Let’s plan another family vacation, this time with everyone. How does that sound?”

Today is Friday, and he’s set to resume work by Monday. It presents a wonderful chance for our whole family to relax collectively. It seems that each member of this family is deeply engrossed in their careers.

I’m currently on leave from my job, and I’m uncertain about my return. My mind is in a state of turmoil, and this vacation might be precisely what I require to gather my thoughts.

“We had already been packing our belongings when my father-in-law received a call from his assistant. There’s an emergency meeting at the company, and they all need to attend. Everyone has their responsibilities there.

As a result, I’m uncertain if our vacation will proceed as planned. It appears there’s an issue with a project they initiated last year.

I felt too lazy to visit the ob-gyn today, so I’ve decided to postpone the visit until tomorrow. To keep away from boredom, I read a few articles, checked my emails, and updated my website.

I also reviewed my bank account, which consistently sees a six-digit addition each month.

When I got a call from Ivan, it was already past lunchtime.

“Babe, it appears our vacation will have to be postponed for the time being.”

“What happened? It’s fine if the plan falls through.”

They mentioned that the six-story building they were constructing collapsed, resulting in ten reported injuries. In addition to that, a civilian died from a head injury. Since Ivan’s company is well-known, the media and press are making a big fuss about it.

“Don’t turn on the TV or watch the news. I don’t want you to become stressed.”

“That’s sad. Fine, I won’t. I’m not sure if I can handle seeing what happened. Until what time will you be there? Have you already visited the laborers in the hospital? What about the civilian who passed away?”

“We’ll pay them a visit later with Dad and my brother. Mom and my sister will be heading home shortly. You can go ahead and have dinner with them tonight; don’t wait for me, alright?”

“Okay. Take care. Take it easy, okay? You’re not completely recovered yet.”

“Yes, my love.”

“You’re giving me so many endearments.” I pouted and playfully rolled my eyes, like a spoiled child.

He chuckled. “Goodbye, honey.”

I continued to playfully roll my eyes. “Bye, Mister. Take care. I love you.”

He remained silent, but I could tell he was smiling on the other end of the line. I reciprocated with a playful kiss through the phone.

“That’s delightful!”

I giggled. “Okay, then.”

***

I find it quite unusual that Ivan is not at home. I’ve become accustomed to his company since he developed amnesia, and his absence has left me feeling somewhat down and agitated. It’s even affecting my ability to sleep.

My mother-in-law and Ivan’s sister are busy today. They’re brainstorming about the business. I couldn’t relate much to that, and I believed I’d just be in their way, so I’m here in my room, attempting to be productive.

It’s already eight in the evening, and we’ve finished dinner. Dad, my brother-in-law, and Ivan have yet to return home. My husband hasn’t called or sent a text either. I hope he’d eaten, as I was worried that something might have happened to him if he missed a meal.

My phone beeped, prompting me to swiftly pick it up from the table. I initially thought it might be a message from Ivan, but it turned out to be a message from my friend. She informed me that she had sent a video link on Messenger.

“Is this some kind of scandal?” I replied to her, half-jokingly, thinking she might be teasing me again.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Just watch it!” she insisted.

I navigated to Messenger, clicked on the link, and an interview with the press about Ivan appeared. They were at the location of the accident.

At first, I didn’t think much of it, almost deciding not to watch the video. However, I soon noticed the man accompanying Ivan, who happened to be Maureen’s father. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was with Ivan.

Was Maureen’s father somehow involved in this project? Was he a shareholder or an investor?

That woman, I can’t believe it! She’s making me overthink things. There’s no problem, but she’s turning it into one.

I messaged her, saying, “Just let me enjoy my happiness for now, girl! If I get hurt again, well, that’s okay. At least I got to experience happiness with my husband.”

“Did you watch it all the way to the end?”

“No, I didn’t-I didn’t want to stress myself out…”

“Indeed, you might have gotten stressed if you had seen Maureen at the hospital. She visited the injured workers, acting as if she’s Ivan’s wife, huh?”

My lips fell open in astonishment.

What is Maureen doing there? I didn’t respond to my friend but instead returned to the video and discovered that it has a continuation.

Meanwhile, the injured workers had already received assistance, but I wasn’t paying attention to the audio. I felt as if I had gone deaf, and an odd sensation came over me.

Maureen visited the hospital with her parents and brought a basket of fruits. It seemed like she was running a campaign for mayor with her actions.

Ivan was also caught in the video. Dad and my brother-in-law weren’t there; it was just him.

I understand I shouldn’t let irritation creep in, especially since they went there to assist the laborers.

However, considering Maureen’s disposition, she can be quite demanding and has a challenging attitude. She doesn’t enjoy being around those who are less fortunate.

It appears that this video has been circulating for some time.

Where might Ivan be at this moment? Does he have no intention of coming home? Are he and Maureen currently together?

I recalled what he mentioned when he called earlier, advising me not to watch the news. This might be the underlying reason for his comment.

It felt like my heart was being hit hard. Ivan and I have patched things up. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I shouldn’t be harboring negative thoughts about him. I know, for now, I’m more important to him.

Relax, Myla. Relax.

I had a shower to help me relax. Then, I headed downstairs to the living room, where I can only truly find peace and rest when he comes back.

Ivan arrived at around eleven in the evening. His hair was disheveled, and some buttons on his button-down polo were unfastened. He looked exhausted, utterly drained.

I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him, though, at the same time, a part of me wondered what might have exhausted him… Something that I might not appreciate.

He smiled upon spotting me. I didn’t rush to his side. Instead, I gazed at him and scrutinized his appearance carefully.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked.

I smiled. “I couldn’t sleep. And even in the past, I’ve always been waiting for your return, haven’t I?”

He smiled and nodded, even though I knew he wouldn’t remember it.

I used to feel foolish back then, always waiting for him. At times, he wouldn’t return home until three in the morning. I’d stay up all night, and when he did return, he’d be extremely drunk, stumbling and greeting me with hurtful words.

But he’s different now. He has changed.

He stood in front of me, and I straightened up, placing both my hands on his shoulders.

His smile gleamed, as if my presence had dispelled his weariness.

He playfully pouted, encouraging me to kiss his lips. A brief kiss escalated into a passionate one.

When we heard someone clear his throat from behind us, I quickly pulled away from Ivan, but he held me by the waist instead.

“How did the meeting go?” his dad asked. I didn’t even notice that they had come home. They probably arrived while I was in the shower.

“Mr. Karim will back out…”

His father’s lips tightened.

I glanced at Ivan. It appeared they had an important matter to discuss, so I chose to head to the room ahead of them.

Before I could leave, my eyes fixed on Ivan’s neck.

Initially, my eyes narrowed, but they swiftly widened when I spotted the lipstick mark.

Although it wasn’t very bold, I could identify the shade – “Pussy red.” The lipstick mark on his neck was left by Maureen.