Once a Wife [English Version]

Chapter 44

The Javerde office was quiet.

Dominic sat behind the mahogany desk that once belonged to Engr. Ronaldo. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and old paper—familiar, grounding. Piles of documents sat neatly before him, though his thoughts were anything but orderly.

The door opened softly.

Cynthia stepped in.

She looked different—lighter somehow, unburdened. For the first time in a long while, she looked free. Dominic stood instinctively, his expression softening.

"Cynthia," he greeted, voice steady but thick with all the words they had never said.

"Dominic," she replied, setting her bag gently on the chair. "So... it's true. You're running Javerde now."

He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Yes. Your father entrusted it to me. I'll do my best not to waste that trust."

For a moment, silence filled the room. The kind that hums with history. They both knew why she was there.

"I didn't come to look back," Cynthia said finally. "I just wanted to see you... maybe one last time. We've hurt each other enough. For years, I carried the weight of my anger. But today, I want to let it go. I want to forgive you. And I also want to say sorry—for all the things I did, for all the things I said that I shouldn't have."

Dominic swallowed hard. His voice trembled when he spoke.

"I don't deserve that forgiveness," he said quietly. "But thank you. Because I need to ask for it too. I'm sorry—for every time I made you feel unwanted, unloved. I wasn't the husband you deserved. But I did love you, Cynthia... in the only ways I knew how."

Silence settled again, gentle this time.

Inside the Javerde office, two people stood across from each other—not as enemies, not even as strangers, but as two hearts finally done fighting.

Cynthia smiled faintly. "Do you remember," she said, "when I was still an intern? We'd sneak out to eat siomai on the sidewalk, and you'd tease me because I drowned everything in chili sauce."

Dominic chuckled, the memory tugging a smile from him. "Yeah. And you'd always say I should pay for the drinks since you covered the rice."

She laughed softly. "And that night we pulled an all-nighter? We didn't get anything done, but we laughed until sunrise because we knew we'd both get scolded by Daddy."

For that brief moment, they weren't ex-spouses. They were just Dominic and Cynthia again—two colleagues who once made life simple.

Her expression gentled. "You know, Dom... I think we were always meant to be friends. Maybe if we hadn't tried to be more than that, we wouldn't have broken each other this badly."

He nodded slowly. "You're probably right. Let's stop blaming ourselves. Friendship... that's what we were best at. And maybe, someday, we can find our way back there."

Cynthia took a deep breath. Her shoulders lifted, then eased. "Yes. But for now, I need to take care of me. I've spent so many years trying to be who everyone wanted me to be—your wife, my sister's shadow, everyone's version of 'enough.' But now... I just want to be Cynthia. Just me."

Dominic's eyes softened. He didn't argue. He didn't reach for her. He just said, sincerely, "Then I hope you find her. Because she's always been worth knowing."

Her lips curved into a small smile. "Maybe that's enough. We weren't meant to last, Dominic. But we were meant to learn."

And in that moment, something lifted between them—years of bitterness dissolving into peace. No tears. No grand goodbyes. Just quiet understanding.

A knock interrupted.

Cynthia's best friend peeked in, smiling. "Ready?"

Dominic recognized him. Ash. An architect. They had both interned at Javerde years ago, but Ash pursued his career in Spain. Back then, he disappeared from Cynthia's life without warning. But now, here he was—back.

And for some reason, Dominic felt... relieved.

"Yeah," Cynthia replied, smiling as she turned toward him. Then, to Dominic: "We'll go ahead. You take care of Dad, okay? I just... need time for myself."

"You deserve that fresh start," he said softly.

Ash stepped in, lifting her suitcase with ease. He gave Dominic a polite nod, then wrapped a gentle arm around Cynthia's shoulders. "Shall we?"

She looked back one last time. "Goodbye, Dominic," she said, smiling. "And thank you... for teaching me what I never want to lose again."

He smiled faintly. "Goodbye, Cynthia. Be happy. And maybe one day... we'll be friends again."

⸻

Later that week, Dominic sat across from Engr. Ronaldo in the same office. The older man's eyes were weary but kind.

"I won't lie, Dom," Ronaldo said. "You made mistakes. You broke my daughter's heart."

"I know, Sir," Dominic replied. "And I'm sorry. I truly am."

Ronaldo sighed deeply. "Taking responsibility for it—that's enough for me. Truth is, I blame myself too."

"You don't need to, Sir," Dominic said quickly.

But the older man shook his head. "If only I had loved my daughters the way they needed... maybe things would've been different. Maybe Cora would still be here. Maybe Cynthia would've pursued her true passion—painting." His voice cracked, grief threading through it. But after a moment, he straightened.

"Still," he continued, "you're family to me, Dom. Not because of the past, but because of the man I see in front of me now."

Dominic's eyes stung. "Sir... thank you. I thought I'd lost all of you."

"You're not lost, hijo," Ronaldo said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You just needed direction. Do good work at Javerde. That's how you honor me. That's how you honor yourself."

For the first time in years, Dominic felt peace.
He wasn't a husband anymore.
But he was still a father. A leader. A man rebuilding purpose from the ruins.

⸻

Months passed.

Every Friday night, the kids came to stay with him. They'd return to Maricar's house by Saturday evening for church the next day.

That night, he sat quietly, watching Raven help Gryffin with homework from across the room. Raven still kept his distance, his walls carefully built—but Dominic didn't rush him.

Instead, he sat beside Slyther, admiring his new sketches, listening to Huffle's stories about school and their new puppy.

It wasn't perfect. But it was enough.

Slowly, he was learning who they were—who they were becoming. Slowly, they were learning who he was, too.

And for the first time, Dominic didn't measure love by who stayed or who left.

He realized— Love didn't always mean winning someone back. Sometimes, love meant staying... for the ones who still needed you.

And in that quiet, ordinary moment, Dominic understood— his story wasn't ending.

It was finally beginning again.