Once a Wife [English Version]

Chapter 21

Tristan wasn't exactly thrilled to be at this family reunion dinner.

The long dining table was lined with wine glasses and expensive cheese platters he didn't even care for. Familiar faces surrounded him—uncles, aunts, cousins—and just enough passive-aggressive energy to give him a pounding headache.

Small talk. Shallow compliments.

And the same question, again and again:

"So, are you two really together?"

"You sure about her?"

He kept it polite. A smile here, a nod there. Counting the hours until he could finally go home.

Thank God his parents actually liked Maricar and the kids.

He loved his parents deeply. And knowing Maricar—if she ever found out they disapproved, she'd be the first to walk away, even if he was ready to fight for them.

That was the only thing that mattered to him.

Then came Clarisse—his cousin, who never once supported his decision to marry Maricar.

Late, as usual.

Dressed to impress, as usual.

Wearing that fake smile, as always.

"Still with the Filipina?" she asked, her voice dripping with fake curiosity.

Tristan didn't even flinch. "Yes. Her name is Maricar."

Clarisse hummed and pulled out her phone. "I just happened to see something interesting on Facebook."

She turned the screen toward him.

A photo.

Taken at Slyther's birthday celebration.

They went out during Slyther's birthday? Maricar never told him about that.

In the picture—Dominic standing beside Maricar. The kids all smiles. The lighting warm and golden. They looked happy. Too happy.

Clarisse gave him a knowing look. "You do realize he's back, right? And somehow, always around? That doesn't bother you?"

Tristan pressed his lips into a thin line. "He's the kids' father. She can't just shut him out. And I respect that."

Clarisse leaned in, her voice dropping.

"Respect... or denial?"

She swirled her wine. "C'mon, Tristan. You're building a life with a woman who still shares hers with someone else. Four kids. An ex who keeps creeping back in. And tell me—are you even sure you're the father of what she's carrying?"

His jaw tightened, "What are you talking about?"

Clarisse shrugged. "Didn't you notice? She's been glowing differently lately. A little... I don't know, softer? Bigger? Didn't you say she had symptoms when you were in Japan?"

She tilted her head, watching his reaction. "Oh. So you have noticed."

Tristan pushed his chair back. "That's enough."

"I'm just saying what everyone else is too scared to bring up," she said, still smiling sweetly. "Open your eyes, Tristan. She's not just carrying baggage—she might be carrying something else, too."

He walked away without another word.

⸻

That night, Tristan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. Clarisse's words echoed louder than he wanted to admit.