All Chapters of Your Husband's Real Wife: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

“Andrea,” Gabriel called from the kitchen, “have you seen my navy blazer?”She didn’t turn from the living room window. “Maybe in the laundry basket,” she said, calm, distant.Gabriel muttered something under his breath and walked off.Andrea’s fingers, hidden by the armrest, held her phone tightly. She scrolled through Celina Dela Cruz’s name. Found it. Searched her Facebook. Private. Just a profile photo—a soft, candid picture of her laughing, unaware the camera was on her.Andrea stared at it for a long moment.Then she moved on. Opened Instagram. Nothing useful.But she remembered what Luis had said: Glorietta. Dela Cruz Holdings.She typed again.Celina Dela Cruz – Dela Cruz HoldingsAn article popped up from six months ago. A launch event. PR consultant. There she was again, standing near Gabriel, eyes forward.Andrea zoomed in on the background. Gabriel wasn’t in the article—but he was there, blurry, behind her. Looking at her.The expression wasn't professional.It was familia

“Don’t touch me!" Gabriel froze mid-step, hand hovering inches from her shoulder. Andrea hadn’t raised her voice. It was soft—flat, even—but it cut like glass. He lowered his hand, voice tentative. “Andrea… it’s been days. You haven’t said a word to me.” She didn’t answer. She sat on the couch, legs curled beneath her, still in the oversized shirt she hadn’t changed out of since yesterday—maybe the day before that too. Her hair was tied back carelessly, face pale, lips dry. The curtains were drawn, the living room dim despite the morning sun outside. Gabriel moved to sit beside her. “I made you breakfast.” Nothing. “I thought maybe we could talk.” Still nothing. He let out a breath. “I know I have no right to ask. But can we… can we at least try to—” “Leave.” Her voice cracked, brittle and cold. His chest tightened. “Andrea, please.” “I said leave!” Her eyes remained forward, unmoving. “I don’t want to see you right now.” Gabriel swallowed. “This is still my home too.”

"Andrea, please…" It's another day of Gabriel trying to win back Andrea, because he still not able to find where Celina is. He exhaled shakily, dragging a hand down his face. "What do you want me to say?" "That you love me?" she said bitterly. "That you’re sorry? That Celina was a phase or a mistake or a misunderstanding?" He didn’t answer. "God, Gabriel…" She looked away, blinking hard. "You don’t even deny it anymore." He stood up suddenly. "I made mistakes, okay? I—I got overwhelmed, I didn’t know how to stop it once it started—" "You married her." "It wasn’t supposed to go that far!" he shouted, voice cracking. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did!" Andrea flinched—not from fear, but from how familiar those words sounded now. He said the same thing the night she first discovered the number on his phone. He said it again when she found the hidden receipt for a ring that never reached her. "You didn’t mean to love her?" she asked quietly. And like before

The zipper caught on the old fabric for a moment, the way it always did on this suitcase. Andrea tugged harder, fingers trembling. She hadn’t meant to open it—only moved it out of the closet to make room for the boxes she’d begun packing. A quiet, half-hearted attempt at reclaiming space. But then something thin and yellowed had fluttered from the inner lining. A folded letter. No envelope. No name. Just creases softened by time, corners curled. She would’ve ignored it—should’ve—but something about the handwriting made her stomach twist. She sat on the edge of the bed, unfolded it slowly. And read. > Celina, I don’t know how to begin this except to say that every time I leave you, I feel like I’m walking away from the only thing that ever made sense to me. I’m sorry for the hours I lose to the world I live in—the one that isn’t ours. You deserve better. You always have. But I am selfish. I am broken. And you? You’re the light that makes my shadows look like something worth surv

The bathroom felt too quiet.Too still, like the walls were holding their breath with her.Celina sat on the edge of the tub, her body hunched forward, both hands clutching the slim plastic test like it was the last thread holding her together. Her fingers trembled. Her knuckles turned white from how tightly she gripped it.Two lines.Positive.She stared. Unblinking. As if staring long enough might change something—anything. Like maybe, if she just waited, the lines would fade, disappear, or tell a different story.But the silence only echoed louder. No mercy. No alternative.She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, but it didn’t ease the tightness in her chest. Her throat burned. Her stomach churned with an ache that wasn’t just physical.It wasn’t supposed to be like this.Not here. Not now. Not with him.She looked down again. Still two lines.She bit her lip hard, willing herself not to cry—not yet. There would be time for that later. For now, all she could do