Once a Wife [English Version]

Chapter 37

Tristan had just reached for his keys when a knock interrupted him.

And when he opened the door— There she was.

Maricar.

The woman who had once been his home... and his hurricane.

"Baby?" His voice cracked, betraying him. He hadn't expected her. Not tonight. Not after everything.

She tried to smile, but her eyes were tired— haunted. Like she had walked through storms just to stand at his doorstep.

"I heard mom came to see you... I was just about to come—"

"I know," she cut in gently. "But I wanted to see you first. Are you busy?"

He didn't even think. "No."

She stood there, her hair unkempt, her gaze unsure but brave. She looked like she had practiced a dozen speeches in front of a mirror, only to forget every word the second she saw him.

"Can we go for a drive?"

He almost said no—not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't know if he could survive what might happen next.

But the word came anyway. "Yeah."

The drive was quiet. Her fingers tapped gently on the car door, as if following a rhythm only she could hear.
They didn't need directions.

They both knew.

Tagaytay.

The air was cooler there—like it remembered things they tried to forget. That place used to be their escape, back when dreams were still simple and love didn't feel so heavy.

Their first anniversary had been there. Rain on the windows. Coffee on the bedside table. Her laughter echoing in that little room.

When they arrived at the familiar overlook, she smiled softly. "It hasn't changed."

Tristan looked at her. But we have.

That same day, she'd had a catering event nearby. She invited him, and he came without question.

He stood at the edge of the room, watching her move—graceful, focused, gentle. Every guest greeted with a smile. Every instruction spoken with care.

He watched her and thought, She's mine. Even if deep inside, something was already unraveling.

After the event, they returned to a small room with white sheets and a balcony where the wind whispered through the night.

They opened a bottle of wine. The clinking of glasses felt less like celebration, more like a goodbye they were both pretending not to see.

"Thanks for coming with me," she said quietly.

"Always," he replied, smiling. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." She kissed him. But the kiss— The kiss didn't feel like hers anymore. Close... but already slipping away.

The silence between them stretched until Tristan broke it.

"What did Mama say? Did she—"

"She just visited me."

"And?"

"Tristan..." Her hands began to tremble. "I'm sorry."

His throat tightened.

"I'm sorry for every wall I built, every silence I let grow between us. You stayed... and I still shut you out."

He wanted to say he would've stayed through anything. That he didn't need perfect. But the way her voice wavered told him this wasn't just regret.