DECEIVING WIFE [ENGLISH]

"What is this?!" Bridgette demanded, shouting as she burst into her husband's room. She hurled the documents right in front of Philip.

His jaw tightened, and he glared at her with fury in his eyes.

"Can't you read?" he asked casually, though deep restraint was evident across his face.

"This is ridiculous, Philip! You can't do this to me!" she exclaimed in frustration, pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Why?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I already know the truth, and we shouldn't see each other anymore because you're a liar! You bitch!" He pointed an accusing finger at her.

She was shocked. Completely paralyzed with shock, her jaw dropped.

"W-what are you talking about?" Bridgette's eyes darted away nervously.

"Playing innocent, huh?" he asked, pulling another document from his attaché case and throwing it right in her face.

"That's the proof. Whether you like it or not, we're getting a divorce!" he yelled, turning his back on her. "Don't make things hard, Bridgette. You know what I'm capable of. I can sue you!" she heard him add.

She immediately whirled around to face him, dropping the paper—a DNA Test Result. Seeing only his back as he walked away, she chased after him and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Please, don't do this. Please," she pleaded, tears spilling from her eyes.

Philip pried her hands off his waist and turned to face her.

"So you think you can fool me with your acting, huh? Well, you're wrong. Because I hate you!" he spat, shoving her to the floor. She hit the ground hard.

He turned to walk away again, but before he could take a step, she grabbed hold of his foot.

"Please let me explain. Don't... Don't do this..." she begged. He looked back at her, and taking advantage of the moment, she scrambled onto her knees in front of him.

"I did it because I didn't want my child to grow up fatherless. I'm so sorry. Just don't do this, please, for his sake. I don't want him to suffer from a broken home, so please..." She looked up at him, tears flowing continuously down her face.

Even if begging made her look like a fool, she didn't care—it was all for her child.

"Tell me the truth. That night... Nothing happened between us, right?" he asked her dead seriously.

"Does it really matter now? Please, just don't leave us..." she begged him.

"It's final." He forcefully pried her hands off his foot and walked past her.

She was left slumped on the floor, weeping uncontrollably.

~~~~~

Two years later...

California, USA

She yawned, leaned against the back of the car seat, and closed her eyes.

"Tired?" Lyndon asked. Lyndon was her current boyfriend. He was also a model like her and was with her at the shoot.

She merely nodded in response as she yawned again and checked her wristwatch to see what time it was.

It was 12:30 AM.

She could not believe it had taken them that long.

She closed her eyes to get some sleep.

A gentle shake on her shoulder woke Bridgette up. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"We're here, honey," he said sweetly. She reached for her bag in the back and smiled at him.

"Thanks, honey," she said. She was about to open the door when he stopped her.

He quickly pulled her face close and kissed her—a demanding, lingering kiss.

She pulled away immediately and composed herself.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just missed you..." he said, making her look at him.

"I understand." She touched his face and planted a soft kiss on his lips. "Take care," she added before stepping out of the car. She waited for him to drive off before opening the gate to the house.

Upon entering through the front door, she collapsed onto the sofa. She was truly exhausted. Yet despite her tiredness and sleepiness, she forced herself to stand up and walk into one of the bedrooms.

A smile instantly broke across her face as she saw her angel fast asleep. She walked over and knelt beside the bed.

She gently brushed away a few strands of hair clinging to his face and kissed his forehead.

To her surprise, his eyes fluttered open.

He smiled immediately upon seeing her. "Go back to sleep, baby. Good night." She kissed his forehead once more.

She was about to stand up and leave the room when he grabbed her hand. "Can you sleep with me, Mom?" he asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

Her child was now four years old; his name was Zion (Za-yon) Alexis Tunner.

She had no choice but to grant his wish. She climbed into bed, slipped under the covers, and wrapped her arms around her son.

"Good night, Mommy," she heard him murmur before he yawned and snuggled into her neck. She smiled and closed her eyes as well.

"Night, son."

The sun was high in the sky when Bridgette woke up. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. Her son was no longer beside her. She turned toward the nightstand to check the time and was shocked: it was already past 1:00 PM. She had slept for that long. She buried her face in her hands.

She stood up and was about to leave the room when she passed by the mirror. She winced at her own reflection. Her makeup was still on, and she had not even changed out of the clothes she wore the previous night.

She hurried out of the room and went straight to her bedroom to take a shower.

After bathing, she went looking for Zion.

He was not in the living room, so she headed straight to the kitchen. There she found Medy, her housekeeper, who was also Filipina. "Where's Zion, Medy?" she asked.

Medy turned to her while washing the dishes at the sink. "I think he's outside with Trisha."

Trisha was her younger sister, who was living there with them. "Ah, I see." Bridgette pulled out a chair and sat down, watching Medy's back.

"Oh, by the way, go ahead and eat," Medy said, turning around to serve her food.

Smelling the dish, Bridgette smiled immediately. It was her favorite: sinigang.

"Go on, eat up. Good thing I reheated this, thinking you might be waking up soon," Medy said with a smile before turning back to the sink.

Bridgette smiled back and began eating.

After finishing her meal, she went outside to look for her son and spotted him right away. He and Trisha were sitting on the swing, reading a book. Her son loved to read, despite his young age.

He also loved to paint and draw; those were his favorite hobbies.

She walked up to them and sat on the grass facing them.

"Mommy!" he greeted enthusiastically, immediately leaping toward her to give her a hug.

She hugged him back. "So what's that?" she asked, pointing to what he was holding.

"A book?" he answered with a laugh. She playfully ruffled his hair for being a smart aleck.

"I mean, what's the title..."

"It's Harry Potter, Mom," he said, smiling.

She nodded and turned her attention to Trisha. "How come you're not in front of your laptop today, lil sis?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She placed Zion on her lap, and he leaned back against her chest, resuming his reading.

She saw Trisha look off into the distance and let out a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Bridgette asked, reaching for her sister's hand. Trisha looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It's just... someone told me my work isn't good. That my stories aren't compelling enough to hook readers, and she even said reading three chapters of my story was just a waste of time." The tears she was holding back finally streamed down her face.

Bridgette squeezed her hands tight. Trisha was a writer for a publishing house in America.

"Don't listen to her. She's probably just jealous. Don't let that fool get to you. Use it as motivation to make your writing even better, okay?"

Trisha nodded, wiped her tears, and forced a smile.

"Come here," Bridgette said, opening her arms wide. She brought her into a warm hug.

"Thanks, Ate," Trisha whispered before pulling away.

She stood up and sat back down on the swing.

"Mommy..." her son tugged at her, making her look down at him.

"What is it, baby?" she asked warmly, though her brow furrowed as she noticed his somber expression.

"Where is my Dad, Mom?"

She was not prepared for the question. She glanced at Trisha, who looked just as shocked.

"Why do you ask all of a sudden, son?"

He looked down at the grass and slowly began pulling at the blades. "I was just wondering why I don't have one, when all my classmates have their Dads. I'm just like Harry Potter—he doesn't have a Dad either," he said softly.

Bridgette pulled him close into a tight embrace and closed her eyes.

"You'll meet him soon, son," she whispered—even though she had no idea where to find him, or whether he would ever accept her child. Their child.