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Chapter 102: Waking Up
Last Updated:
2025-03-02 19:00:06
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The Unwanted Wife Chapter 103: Questions
I wanted to believe her, but the gnawing emptiness inside me wouldn’t let me. “What about Regan?” I asked hesitantly, the words slipping out before I could stop myself. Sheila’s expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, she didn’t speak, and I felt the silence stretch out uncomfortably between us. “He came once,” she said finally, her voice clipped. “But I didn’t let him see you. I’m sorry, Ana, but I just… I couldn’t. Not after everything he’s put you through. It’s always him, isn’t it?” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn’t argue with her. Regan was always at the center of my chaos, the storm I couldn’t seem to escape. “It’s fine, Sheila,” I murmured, though the ache in my chest said otherwise. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s true that he was always my chaos”Sheila’s hand covered mine again, her grip firm but comforting. “You don’t have to think about him right now, Ana. Just focus on getting better, okay?” I hesitated, biting
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“There’s… something else,” she murmured, squeezing my hand just a little tighter.I frowned, my heart skipping a beat. “What?” The wariness in my voice was undeniable. A hundred possibilities ran through my mind, twisting my stomach into knots.Sheila hesitated as if weighing whether she should say it now or not. Then, with a playful smirk, she shook her head. “Not yet”I narrowed my eyes. “Sheila.”She laughed softly, leaning back in her chair. “Nope. Not telling you yet. I want to do this properly. You deserve a little excitement after all the crap you’ve been through.” “I don’t think I can handle any more bad news”“I know,” she said, grinning. “But trust me, it’ll be worth it. Just wait until this afternoon.”Suspense curled inside me. Sheila wasn’t one to hold back important information, so for her to tease me like this meant whatever it was… it had to be big. I was about to demand more when the door suddenly opened, and a familiar voice rang out.“Anastasia…”I turned toward th
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The afternoon sun cast a golden hue across my room, spilling through the windows. The silence had stretched for too long, my mind wandering between exhaustion and the weight of everything that had happened. But when the door suddenly burst open, I blinked in surprise.Sheila stood there, dressed in casual clothes. A loose, comfortable sweater draped over her frame, paired with simple jeans and sneakers. But what caught my attention wasn’t just her sudden change of attire—it was what she carried.In one arm, she balanced a beautifully wrapped box, the soft pastel ribbons tied into an elegant bow. On the other hand, she held a small camera, her fingers gripping it like she had been waiting for this moment all day. And then there was the cake—a decadent-looking one, rich and layered, placed carefully on a tray.“What—” I started, eyeing the assortment of items she carried, but she cut me off with an excited grin.“I could not wait to tell you the surprise I mentioned earlier!” she practi
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The world around me seemed to slow down. My hands clenched around the ultrasound, my gaze glued to it, as if afraid that looking away would make it disappear. I opened my mouth, but no words came out—just a sharp intake of breath, my throat tightening with emotion.“I—” My voice cracked.Sheila plopped down onto the chair beside me, an uncharacteristically wide grin on her face. “Surprise!”A strangled laugh escaped me, half-disbelieving, half-overwhelmed. “I-is this real?” I whispered.“As real as it gets.” She nudged me gently. “I found out after your accident. But with everything that happened, I wanted to tell you when you were strong enough.”I placed a hand over my stomach, my mind racing.A baby. My baby.The thought sent another wave of emotions crashing over me—fear, happiness, uncertainty. But above all… love. A deep, unfamiliar kind of love.Sheila let out a playful groan, reaching over to swipe at my tears with her sleeve, shaking her head dramatically. “Oh, come on, don’t
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I sighed softly, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I looked at Sheila. “You know, for the first time in a while, I feel… happy,” I said, my voice quiet but warm. “Despite everything, I feel like I have something to look forward to.”Sheila’s face lit up with a gentle smile, her usual no-nonsense demeanor softening. “That’s a good sign, Ana. You deserve to feel happy—really happy. And you know I’ll always be here to support you, no matter what.”Her words filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt in ages. “Thank you, Sheila. I don’t think I’d have made it through any of this without you.”She brushed off my gratitude with a small wave of her hand. “Oh, stop it. You’ve got enough on your plate without giving me credit. You’re stronger than you think, Ana. You always have been.”I hesitated, my mind shifting to the practicalities of my situation. “Do you think I’m okay to leave? I mean, I feel fine enough to go home.”Sheila gave me a look that was somewhere between affectionate and exaspe
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The morning sun painted the hospital room in soft golden hues, casting long shadows against the sterile white walls. I sat on the bed, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the blanket with my fingers, waiting—waiting for something I wasn’t even sure would come. Then, a knock came. Soft yet firm. I straightened. “Come in.” The door creaked open, and there he was. My grandfather. The man who had always been the pillar of our family, the unshakable force that held everything together. But today, he looked… tired. The sharpness in his gaze, the one that had always been filled with quiet authority, was dimmed by something deeper. His movements were slower. For the first time in years, I saw guilt in his eyes. He stepped inside, closing the door with deliberate care. He didn’t speak at first, only observing me as if taking in the damage that had been done. Then, without hesitation, he sat beside me and reached for my hand. His fingers, once strong and commanding, now trembled slightly
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Then, he sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. “I should have stopped it,” he murmured. “From the very beginning. I should have—” “Don’t,” I whispered, cutting him off. “Don’t say that.” He couldn’t say that. Because if he did, it meant everything I had sacrificed, everything I had endured, had been for nothing. I forced another smile, my hands gripping the blanket tighter. “I made my choices.” His expression softened, “You shouldn’t have had to.” Another silence settled between us. This time, I was the one to break it. “Regan hasn’t visited,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. He stiffened slightly but didn’t look surprised. “I figured.” “I thought… I thought maybe he would.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “He’s a fool.” “I know.” Another pause. Then, my grandfather studied me closely. Too closely. "Do you still love him?" he asked. The question caught me off guard. Love? Did I still love Regan? The man who had chosen Zarina over me. The man who had begged me for a divorce.
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A week had passed since the accident. Since everything had fallen apart.Physically, I was fine—fully recovered, as my doctors had confirmed. But my family still insisted I stay in the hospital a little longer. They hovered, worried and protective as if I was made of glass. A part of me understood. They had lost me once before, and maybe now, they were terrified it would happen again.But no one knew the real reason I was taking extra care of myself. No one except Sheila and my OB-GYN.My pregnancy remained a secret.Since the moment I found out, I had done everything to follow the list of guidelines Sheila and my doctor had given me. I ate healthy, rested properly, and stayed away from stress as much as I could. My brothers and grandfather visited me daily, showering me with attention and concern. It felt strange—having them here, showing they cared—after years of distance. And my father? He never came.I had also noticed something else. At times, when I was half asleep, a faint but
Last Updated : 2025-03-02
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The Unwanted Wife Chapter 141: Be There
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The Unwanted Wife Chapter 139: Best Friends
The morning light streamed through the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room, filling the space. The wide, sunlit room looked like something from a magazine spread—polished marble floors, pale cream walls lined with intricate crown moldings, and plush, oversized couches in soft champagne hues. The chandelier above sparkled subtly, catching the light.In the center of it all, a long rectangular table had been set up—draped in white linen and neatly arranged with tasting plates, tiny glasses, and silver utensils.Susan and a few of the maids bustled quietly nearby, arranging fresh pitchers of water and clearing empty plates.And at the far end of the room stood a cluster of smartly dressed individuals from Champagne and Roses Events Company, all smiling with their clipboards in hand and their nerves barely hidden beneath their professional exteriors.In the midst of it all—I sat poised at the head of the table, wearing a simple but el
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I stared at the phone. The call replayed in my mind. His offer, unexpected and overwhelming. Something I hadn’t seen coming.Then—my phone buzzed again.The sound made me flinch, jarring me out of my daze. But when I glanced at the screen, my heart stuttered.Miguel Sanchez. Champagne and Roses Events Company.The one I had hired months ago for Regan’s birthday—before everything fell apart. Before Zarina. Before the accident. Before the child growing silently inside me.My fingers hesitated for just a moment before I swiped to answer."Hello?""Good afternoon, Ms. Anastasia!" the man chirped, his voice full of an excitement I couldn’t even begin to mirror. "I’m just calling to confirm that everything is set for your husband’s birthday! We’re almost ready with the setup—just wanted to ask if you’d like us to drop by your home and discuss final details like food options and guests lists!"My breath hitched painfully.
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 137: Little Canary
Another short silence stretched between us, and I could almost picture him standing somewhere across the world, arms crossed, watching over me the way he always used to."Why did you call, Uncle? Is there a problem?"“No, no, dear," he said quickly, reassuringly. "There is no problem.”I slumped back slightly into the chair."Oh," I exhaled, allowing the smallest smile to pull at the corner of my mouth, "that’s good to hear."But there was a pause on his end—a pause that said there was more. Much more.“I know you heard from Don Alonso,” he said finally.I stiffened, heart picking up again. Moment of truth.I swallowed. "Um, yeah… is it about the promise? Is that why you called?"There was no hesitation in his answer."Yes, it is," he said simply. "I know it must be hard to believe something like that even existed. I understand it must be shocking."I laughed softly under my breath, a dry, breathless sound.
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 136: Uncle
The red velvet was rich beneath my fingertips, almost too luxurious for something that made my heart hammer with dread. The gold ribbon gleamed under the sunlight, tied so precisely it made my chest tighten.I stared at it for a moment—Just stared.As if the box itself was waiting, breathing, daring me to open it. Then, with a trembling breath, I pulled the ribbon loose and lifted the lid.Inside—Photographs. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe.My heart slammed into my ribs so hard it hurt. Picture after picture spilled before me, sharp and glossy and mercilessly real.Regan. Zarina.Laughing together. Hands brushing. Leaning into each other like lovers in secret. Whispering in corners. Clinging to each other in dark rooms. Moments I was never meant to see.Moments hidden from me while I played the fool. Dates were marked neatly in red ink in the corners of each photo.Some of them were recent.But
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A flood of emails greeted me first—formal messages from the foundation, updates on business reports I hadn't had the energy to care about. Then, a few news articles—headlines about society events, political scandals—none of them touching my world anymore.I swiped idly through them, my mind elsewhere, my body still fighting the lingering nausea.Then I saw it.One message stood out among the floods.A simple text, from a name I hadn’t seen in months but had been waiting for without even realizing it.Ava Ramos.My assistant. My friend.She had taken a six-month leave to care for her mother abroad, but even from halfway across the world, Ava had still managed to handle the details of my business life better than anyone else could. She didn’t just work for me—she stood by me. Without judgment. Without condition.I opened the message with trembling fingers.Ava:Miss A, Just wanted to let you know my l
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 134: Peaceful
The morning light spilled into the room in soft, golden streaks, coaxing me awake. I stirred beneath the light linen sheets; my body slow to move. The nausea hit me almost immediately. A wave of dizziness and discomfort churned in my stomach, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before carefully sitting up.The clock on the nightstand blinked back at me—7:08 AM.“Ugh” I groaned, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool marble floor. I sat there for a moment, breathing through the nausea, pressing a hand gently against my still-flat stomach.Almost six weeks of being two people instead of one.And somehow, it already felt like my entire body had shifted. My chest tightened at the thought, and I forced myself to sit up straighter, blinking against the dizzying morning light streaming through the tall windows. I reached for the robe hanging loosely over the nearby armchair—a light ivory silk robe with delicate lace
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 133: The Promise
“After Alisha died, the bond between our families… frayed. Your uncles—especially Alvaro—blamed Gregory. Maybe not for her death directly, but for the way she lived before it. For the silence. For the sadness that started showing behind her eyes.”I drew a sharp breath. I’d always known something was… strained between the Montreals and the Saavedras. Even as a child, I could feel the tension, though no one ever spoke of it.Don Alonso’s voice dropped lower, his tone thickening with something heavy. Not just memory—guilt.“After Alisha died, the bond between our families… frayed. Your uncles—especially Alvaro—blamed your father—Gregory. For her death directly, for the way she lived before it. For the silence. For the sadness that started showing behind her eyes.”His words struck something sharp and cold inside me. My hands freezing in place on my lap. I had always known, deep down, that there was a quiet rift between the Montreals and the Saavedras. It wa
