Once a Wife [English Version]

Chapter 40

The receptionist led Dominic through the sleek hallways of the brokerage firm.

Every step felt heavier than the last—not because of the marble floors beneath him, but because of the weight pressing down on his chest.

"Sir, you can go in now," his assistant said gently. "Sir Tristan will be right with you."

As they opened the office door, the first thing Dominic noticed wasn't the desk, or the view of the city skyline—it was the wall.

Photographs. Frames lined up in neat, intentional rows.

Maricar, beaming in one.

The kids laughing in another.

A family portrait, right at the center.

Whole. Warm. Untouchable.

Dominic stopped. The breath caught in his throat. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

So this is what pride looks like, he thought.
Displayed on a wall.

A life built slowly, frame by frame.
A life he no longer had a place in.

And maybe never really did.

The door clicked behind him.

Tristan walked in—sleeves rolled up, posture relaxed, his smile easy. He looked composed, maybe even at peace. But Dominic had known him long enough to recognize the difference between calm... and survival.

Because Tristan's eyes weren't peaceful. They were tired. Guarded. Carrying something he didn't say out loud.

"Dom." Tristan's voice was friendly, almost teasing as he motioned toward the photo wall. "Didn't expect you."

Was it real? This gentleness? This openness?

"Yes," Dominic replied quietly, still looking at the photos. Still standing in front of a life he used to belong to.

"They're adorable, right?" Tristan smiled. "Time flies. It seemed just yesterday when U took the boys to get circumcised—nervous wrecks, but they still managed to crack jokes."

Dominic laughed softly. He could picture it.

"And that one?" Tristan pointed. "That was Huffle's first cheer competition. They won third place."

"She's dancing now?"

"Not really," Tristan chuckled. "But she didn't quit. She gave everything she had."

Dominic nodded. "They look happy. You look proud."

"I am," Tristan said, the smile still on his face. But there was something else in his eyes now. Something deeper. "So, what brings you here?"

Dominic took a breath. The words he rehearsed disappeared the moment he sat down.

"I came to say sorry," he admitted.

He looked Tristan in the eye.

"For everything. For what my choices did to her... to you. She deserved better than what I gave her. And you... you became that for her."

Tristan's expression changed. The light in his face dimmed into something still, quiet. His jaw tensed.

But he didn't raise his voice.

He simply exhaled slowly—like someone holding on to something bigger than himself.

"Dom," Tristan said, "if you came here to ask me to let her go, I can't do that."

There was no anger in his voice. Only truth.

"After everything?" Dominic asked. "You know we were in Antipolo together, right? I gave back her jacket."