Your Husband's Real Wife

"You work too much, Andrea. When do you even rest?"Andrea’s laughter echoed softly inside the elevator as she remembered her colleague’s teasing earlier that day. "Rest is for the weak," she had joked, adjusting the strap of her designer tote while flashing her signature, composed smile. It was the kind of banter she’d mastered—graceful, nonchalant, never too personal. That was her image: the woman who had it all together.And to most people, she did.As she stepped into the quiet luxury of their penthouse, the scent of freshly lit vanilla candles met her like a warm embrace. The heels of her stilettos clicked rhythmically against the marble floor. Everything was pristine. The cream-colored drapes gently swayed from the cool air streaming through slightly opened windows. The glass dining table was already set—gold-trimmed plates, crystal wine glasses, neatly folded napkins, and in the center, a bottle of red wine breathing beside two tall candles waiting to be lit.Everything was per

The sound of his second phone buzzing on silent was the first crack in Gabriel’s carefully built illusion.It sat face down on the hotel nightstand, vibrating like a quiet accusation. Gabriel didn’t flinch—at least not outwardly. He just ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and let the silence of the suite wrap around him like a noose.He reached for it, swiped to unlock.Andrea (Wife): 6 Missed Calls. 1 New Message. "Are you still at the client dinner? It’s almost midnight. Please don’t forget your promise—no more late nights."His thumb hovered over the reply button. He’d rehearsed this a hundred times. His lies weren’t impulsive anymore. They were practiced. Perfected."I’m sorry, love. The client wouldn’t stop talking. I’ll come home early tomorrow. I miss you."He hit send and dropped the phone back onto the nightstand like it burned him.Behind him, Celina stirred in the hotel bed, hair splayed across the pillows like a halo. Her eyes fluttered open, sleepy and soft

Andrea closed the car door gently, the click echoing like a trigger pulled in silence. She stood in the early morning chill, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the vehicle. Her eyes lingered on the faint fingerprint smudge on the rearview mirror—small, delicate, unfamiliar. She’d placed the lipstick back exactly where she found it. Not out of fear. Out of calculation. This time, she wasn’t ignoring it. This time, she was testing him. Because if it stayed there untouched, it would mean he hadn’t noticed it at all. Which meant he didn’t care about it at all. But if it was gone? Then someone had something to hide. Andrea turned on her heel and walked back inside the house with slow, purposeful steps, each one heavier than the last. As she reached the bedroom, the scent of Gabriel’s cologne still lingered in the air. She stood at the doorway, watching the space where he once stood, smiled, kissed her forehead like everything was fine. Her lips parted slightly. “Let’s

"Didn’t you say you were flying to Cebu today?"Andrea’s voice cut clean through the soft rustling of Gabriel’s coat as he hung it by the door.Gabriel paused. Just a second too long."Yeah, I was. But the meeting got pushed. Last-minute change." He didn’t look at her as he spoke, opting instead to adjust the sleeves of his jacket like it mattered.Andrea raised an eyebrow. “That’s the second time this week your plans have ‘changed.’ What’s going on, Gabriel?”He chuckled, forced and flat. “It’s work, hon. You know how it is. I don’t control the clients.”“But you always told me you confirm everything weeks in advance.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory—yet. Just tired. Curious. Wounded curiosity.Gabriel kissed her forehead. Quick. Dismissive. “You’re overthinking again. Come on, let’s not do this.”Andrea didn’t respond. She watched him walk toward the bedroom, the scent of another woman’s perfume faintly trailing behind him. Not hers. Not the brand she wore every single day. Something flo

“Gabriel, do you even notice how quiet we’ve become?” Andrea’s voice broke the silence in the condo, slicing through the soft hum of the air purifier. Gabriel didn’t look up from the shirt he was buttoning. “What do you mean?” She sat on the edge of their bed, hands curled into the hem of her dress. “We barely talk. We eat together, but we don’t connect. I feel like I live with a stranger.” He turned to the mirror, adjusting the collar. “You’re just overthinking again. Things have been… busy.” “That’s not what I asked,” Andrea replied, voice low. “I asked if you notice it. Do you feel it too?” Gabriel paused, his reflection unreadable. “Work has been overwhelming, hon. You know that.” “Right,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek. “Always work.” He turned around this time, forcing a gentle smile. “We all go through phases, love. Don’t overcomplicate it.” She stared at him for a moment. “Do you still love me, Gabriel?” His smile faltered—just for a second—but it w