All Chapters of Your Husband's Real Wife: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Don’t panic,” Andrea muttered to herself, jaw clenched as she stared at her phone screen. “It could be nothing.”But the longer she stared at their joint calendar, the more her heart thudded against her ribs.Gabriel - Out-of-Town Conference (3 Days)But no hotel listed. No meeting schedule. No flight info.That wasn’t like him. He was meticulous. Predictable. The kind of man who once scheduled their grocery runs.She opened their shared bank account, heart in her throat.Seaside Bistro — ₱6,720.00Isla Villas Private Resort — ₱18,000.00Her eyes narrowed. That wasn’t the hotel he said he’d booked. And the bistro? She Googled it—an exclusive beachside restaurant three hours away from the supposed conference venue.Her stomach turned.“He wouldn’t…” she whispered, clutching the phone tighter. “Would he?”She clicked his contact and called.One ring. Two. Three… Voicemail.She hung up and sent a text. “Hey love, just checking in. Hope the conference’s going well. Call when you’re free?

Celina stepped into the bright, modern lobby of Gabriel’s office building. The morning sunlight poured through the glass walls, casting sharp reflections on the polished marble floor. She smoothed down the loose strands of hair that had escaped her bun and glanced at her phone. Gabriel’s text from earlier promised lunch together—a small comfort amid the swirling doubts that had begun to cloud her mind lately. But she decided to surprised him. As she approached the reception desk, a woman in a sharply tailored suit brushed past her, nearly colliding. The woman’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh! You must be Ms. Andrea, right?” The woman’s voice was warm but professional. “I’m Marissa, newly HR. I substitute our main HR. here because of a sudden emergency just a few minutes before you arrived." Celina returned the smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She forced herself to relax her shoulders, but her heart was already picking up pace. “ Nice to meet you, Marissa. But, I'm—" M

“Seven-thirty,” Celina murmured, glancing at her phone.She shifted on her heels, clutch still firm in her hand.He’s just caught in traffic. He said he’d leave early.Another minute passed.Her fingers refreshed the messages again. No new text.Just Delivered.She smiled at the mirror, adjusting an earring. “Maybe he’s parking. Maybe he’s just—”A ping.Hope sparked—only to find a tagged photo on her feed. Guests already posing, the event in full swing. Laughter. Lights. Clinking glasses.Her smile trembled.She stared at her phone, thumbs hesitating before she typed:“Are you still coming?”She hit send. Waited.Nothing.Just Delivered again.Celina inhaled, straightened her shoulders, then gave herself one last look.The shimmer in her dress dulled beneath the ache in her chest.“I’m not waiting forever,” she whispered, forcing a shrug. “Just one night.”She grabbed her coat and walked out.---11:42 p.m.Gabriel: “Got pulled into something urgent. I’m sorry, babe. Rain check?”Cel

She held up the phone, her eyes sharp as she pointed to the screen. “Whose photo is this?” Her voice was steady but edged with suspicion. Gabriel’s hand stopped mid-motion, the towel slipping slightly as he paused, caught off guard. His expression flickered for a moment—surprise, then something unreadable. “What?” he replied, trying to keep his tone casual, but the hesitation in his voice betrayed him. The simple question hung in the air like a challenge, an invisible line drawn between truth and secrets yet to be revealed.Celina stayed calm, her voice steady but firm as she dropped his phone onto the bed. “You forgot to lock it.” The small act felt like a quiet accusation, but her eyes never wavered. Gabriel stared at the screen like it was something dangerous, his usual confidence faltering. Celina knows she needs to know the truth, so for the second moment like this, she did everything to get his phone.“Celina, what are you talking about?” he asked, trying to sound innocent, b

Celina’s eyes drifted to Gabriel’s sleeping face. The slow rhythm of his breathing was supposed to calm her, but tonight it only made her chest feel tighter, angrier. “You always keep your phone close,” she whispered, barely louder than the night air. “You never let me see your emails.” His phone rested on the nightstand, screen dark but close enough to reach. She’d noticed it every night, how guarded he was. How distant. Her gaze slid over to the coat draped on the chair—the one he tossed carelessly but always left behind. Her fingers twitched, remembering the stiff paper she’d pulled from the coat pocket earlier—the business card. Andrea Velasco-Reyes. The name she didn’t want to hear again, but couldn’t forget. Celina swallowed hard, her throat tight. She slid out of bed quietly, the floor cold against her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she picked up her laptop from the desk. The screen lit up her face, cold and pale. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, hesitant.