THE CEO'S ORPHAN WIFE

I dried my wet hands before answering my mother-in-law's call.

"Hello, Mom?"

"Dear, come to St. John's Hospital right away," she instructed as soon as I answered.

"Um, why, Mom?"

"We'll be waiting for you there. We're on our way," she abruptly ended the call providing no details, causing my anxiety to intensify.

In my worry and haste, I reached for my wallet, which was resting on top of the refrigerator, without bothering to change my clothes.

I felt that my mother-in-law's call held significant importance, and I hoped it wasn't delivering bad news.

I hailed a taxi, and in under thirty minutes, I arrived at the hospital.

"Brother, what happened?" I inquired, addressing my husband's eldest sibling.

"It's Ivan-"

"What happened to him? What happened to my husband, brother?" I asked, tears streaming down my face as anxiety went through me and continued, "Where is he?"

"He's in the operating room; he had an accident after his car collided with a truck."

"My God!" I covered my mouth and couldn't hold back my sobs.

Oh, my God! I couldn't stop my legs from shaking, and I felt utterly lost. Ivan's sister hurried over to us and offered me a comforting hug.

The minutes dragged on as we anxiously awaited the medical team tending to Ivan. It felt like an endless wait. After a two-hour stretch, the door to the operating room finally swung open, and we approached the doctor, exiting the room.

"The operation was successful, but we need to monitor him in the ICU for the next twenty-four hours."

I struggled to comprehend the rest of the doctor's explanation. If the operation was successful, why did they have to transfer him to the ICU?

A little while later, I visited my husband in the ICU. A wave of sympathy washed over me as I saw him surrounded by various medical devices, with his vital signs being closely monitored.

They said comatose individuals can hear you, so I knew I should speak to him. I fell silent for a moment because my tears were uncontrollable. I gently held his hand and kissed the unbruised part of his forehead.

"Honey, please, fight, alright?" I bit my quivering lip. "You have to pull through." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold back my sobs.

"If you wake up, I won't give you headaches anymore... I won't be jealous, and I won't argue with you anymore..."

There's a word I've been wanting to tell him, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"I love you so much, Ivan. I love you immensely."

Throughout the night, I kept watch over Ivan. His parents and siblings had promised to come the next day to relieve me from my vigil.

Sleep eluded me as my deep concern for him triggered a torrent of thoughts. What if he's gone for good?

I gently caressed his hair and gazed at him, dreading that it might be the last time I'd see his face. I committed the contours of his handsome features to memory, unsure if I'd ever have the chance to see them again.

I longed for him to wake up, to return to his former self, and for me to finally fade from his life.

Tears welled up once more. The mere thought of leaving his life was excruciating. It felt as though my heart, already shattered over the past year by one person.

Yet, despite it all, I still loved him deeply.

"If you can survive, I'll set you free. I'll allow you to be with the woman you love. I know you've desired this for a long time, but I clung stubbornly to our separation," I sighed. It felt like my words were strangling me as I uttered them.

I found it hard to believe that I had summoned the courage to utter those words. In the year we've spent together as a married couple, I can confidently say I've been a devoted wife. I've diligently attended to his needs, even though our relationship has never followed the conventional path of most married couples.

He harbored resentment towards me, resentful that I had seemingly stripped away his freedom and shattered his dreams. It was clear that he was disgusted by our situation.

Being an orphan since the age of fifteen, following my parents' tragic demise in a plane crash, I had no one else to turn to. Fortunately, Ivan's parents, who were close friends with mine, graciously took me in because none of my other relatives were willing to provide me with a home and care.

The first time I laid eyes on Ivan, I couldn't help but be drawn to him, even though he was seven years my senior. He was my first crush, my initial taste of love. At the time, he was twenty-two and already overseeing the family business. However, his heart belonged to Maureen, his girlfriend, and he was completely head over heels for her.

I concealed my feelings for him, even though I was aware that his parents and siblings knew about my affection for Ivan, but they never broached the subject.

How did we end up as a married couple?

A year ago, Ivan returned home drunk. I took care of him and helped him to his room. It was late at night, and the household staff had already retired for the evening.

I undressed him to make him more comfortable, but we ultimately ended up in bed together, marking my first time. I was well aware of his intoxicated state, but my vulnerable heart yielded to his warm embraces and sweet kisses. It was a first for me.

Exhausted and physically sore from our encounter, I drifted off to sleep beside him.

We awoke to the voices of his parents, discovering us together. I had not intended for them to find out, but sometimes, life takes unexpected turns.

At that moment, Ivan was furious with me. He accused me of taking advantage of him.

"You're so desperate. I hate you!" Those were the words that escaped his lips.

His parents were extremely angry with what he said, and I could do nothing but cry in the corner while holding the blanket wrapped around me.

That day, we promptly got married at his parents' insistence and signed the marriage contract.

We moved into a separate house, and the naïve me thought we would be happy, but we weren't. Not once did he appreciate me. He never even considered me his wife, yet, treated me like a slave. Despite that, I endured it, hoping that one day he would love me.

But it's been a year, and even though he doesn't express it, I haven't yet secured a place in his heart.

It's still Maureen. She was still the one who held his heart.

Despite my desire to monitor Ivan closely, my mother-in-law and the rest of the family were adamant that I should return home to get some rest. They advised me to come back in the afternoon. Nevertheless, I found it difficult to rest at home, so I returned to the hospital before noon.

I was surprised not to find Ivan in the ICU. Luckily, his mom called just in time, saying, "He woke up earlier, so we transferred him to a regular room."

Thank you, my God!

I quickly sought out the private room that my in-laws had prepared for Ivan. As I gently pushed the door open, Ivan's mother warmly welcomed me with an embrace, and I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion.

I expressed my gratitude to God for his recovery, relieved that Ivan was no longer on the verge of death. Despite this, I couldn't shake the sense of sorrow, knowing that our paths were drawing nearer to separation.

I approached his unconscious form, gently caressing his hand and planting a kiss on his lips, grateful for the chance to do so freely.

"I'm relieved that you're doing better now. I love you so much, Ivan," I softly murmured into his ear.

The doctor had informed us that my husband could wake up at any moment, so my in-laws decided to stay a while longer. Just as we were finishing our snack, I noticed Ivan's eyelids flutter, prompting me to rush to his side.

We gathered around him, eagerly awaiting any sign of further movement. A smile graced my face as his fingers flinched at the hand I was holding.

"I'll get in touch with his doctor," my brother-in-law declared.

Shortly after, Ivan slowly opened his eyes, looking at the surrounding people, and then he blinked several times.

"Ivan, my son," Mom called his name. She gently stroked his arm while I continued to hold one of his hands.

Ivan remained silent, his brow furrowed, and his gaze fixed on his mother before shifting to the other family members present.

"Mom, why am I here?" he finally spoke, his voice perhaps strained, probably because of a dry throat.

As the room's door opened, revealing my brother-in-law and the doctor he had called, Ivan's gaze turned in my direction. He tilted his head, his forehead creasing with concern.

His next words sent shockwaves through us all. "Who are you?" he asked me, nearly shattering my world.

I glanced at my mother-in-law.

"Who is she, Mom?" he inquired once more, turning his gaze toward my hand that had been holding his. As a result, I slowly released it, though my gaze remained fixed on him, tears welling up in my eyes.

I find it hard to believe that he doesn't recognize me.

"She's your wife, son. Don't you remember her?" My mother-in-law asked.

Ivan shook his head.

"I don't know her," he replied, his voice reflecting both confusion and seriousness.

My shoulders sagged, and I moved away from him, standing beside the doctor who approached Ivan for an examination.

"How did she become my wife?" he asked, still clearly bewildered. It appeared he was suffering from amnesia.

"Where's Maureen?" he asked, a question that broke my heart. It was still Maureen. Even amidst his amnesia, that woman remained etched in his memory.

"How did she become my wife, Mom?" he asked in frustration and with a hint of anger. "I don't know her. Maureen is the only one I love. How did she become my wife?"

Tears continued to well

up in my eyes. His words felt like a recurring dagger in my heart.

"Ivan," his mom gently admonished.

"Ivan?!" We all turned to the door when we heard Maureen's voice.

We all looked at Ivan, whose face immediately brightened.

"Honey!" he exclaimed to his ex-girlfriend.

Surprise registered on Maureen's face, but she quickly regained her composure, smiling as she approached Ivan. My husband embraced her tightly, and she responded with warm hugs.

I couldn't bear to see the two of them together, so I decided to leave the room. The pain was overwhelming, watching my husband and the woman he truly loved being happy in each other's arms.

I may be his wife, but I have no claim to his heart.

I may be the wife, but I am not the one he loves.

I left the hospital and took a seat on one of the benches beneath the mahogany trees. In silence, tears welled up in my eyes as I avoided drawing the attention of those nearby.

It's agonizing, incredibly painful.

I had believed I could see them happy and united, but that wasn't the case. Now I'm uncertain about my place in Ivan's family, especially since he no longer remembers me, while Maureen has returned.

I wiped away my tears and gazed at the sky, trying to ease the anguish that enveloped me.

I found solace in reminiscing about the happier times when my parents were still with me.

However, I had no one to confide in or share my feelings with. There was no one willing to lend an ear to my grievances, and I lacked the support I needed to navigate the challenges I face today.

Now that Ivan has completely erased me from his memory, I'm contemplating the idea of removing myself from his life altogether. But where would I go? This was a question I had pondered before, but I hadn't truly considered the answer.

"Dear..." I turned to face my mother-in-law, who had quietly followed me here.

"Please be patient with Ivan. He's suffering from amnesia, but don't worry; we're here to help you. We'll do everything we can to make him understand you are his wife."

I mustered a bitter smile. "It's alright, Mom. I understand why he only remembers Maureen."

She gently placed her hand on mine and nodded with sympathy.

"Let's hope that his memory returns soon."

I responded, "Even if his memory comes back, Maureen will always hold a special place in his heart."

"Don't say that. I believe that you and Ivan can work through this. Trust me."

Due to Ivan's condition, my father-in-law sent Maureen back home and advised her not to come here, as it would only worsen the situation. He mentioned that Ivan already had a wife, so she needed to distance herself from my husband.

I was genuinely taken aback when she returned to the country. When Ivan and I got married, she was extremely upset and confronted me, pulling my hair forcefully.

"You're a promiscuous person! A snake!" she repeatedly yelled in my face while I could do nothing but cry. Ivan embraced her and offered numerous apologies.

They left the house, and Ivan returned home late at night. I had no idea what they did or what they discussed, but I had a fear in my heart that their relationship might persist even though we were already married. Especially since I knew we were only married on paper. All I had was a legal document, not his heart.

A week after that incident, I received news that Maureen had flown to America with her family. Ivan had never visited that country, so, in some way, I felt relieved.

However, even in Maureen's absence, his coldness towards me persisted. He rarely wanted to talk to me and refused to eat the dishes I prepared, yet I continued to serve him.

Despite having a regular job, I woke up early to prepare his breakfast and lay out the clothes he would wear to the office.

But my efforts still fell short because his heart remained closed, and he had no intention of opening it to let me in.

Now that Maureen has returned, I fear I might lose my place in his life. This is what my husband used to repeatedly tell me: he would leave me after a year, and his parents couldn't do anything to change his mind. He told me that enduring a year with me was enough.

"Come inside," my mother-in-law invited me. "I think it would be best to make the most of him not remembering anything. Take care of him as you've been doing. This way, he might eventually fall in love with you."

I had my doubts about what my mother-in-law said because now that he had no memories, he openly expressed his love for Maureen.

My mom entered Ivan's room first, and I followed. Ivan was still awake. When I walked in, he focused all his attention on me.

He gazed at me, leading me to believe that he truly couldn't remember me, as he never once looked at me closely for an extended period. It was as if he found me repulsive back then.

I forced a smile.

"Hi, h-how are you feeling?" I asked in a trembling voice.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Can he eat now?" I asked my mother-in-law, who was silently observing us from the corner.

She smiled and nodded.

"Do you want some rice porridge?" I asked Ivan in a slow tone.

He was quiet, but his eyes remained focused on me. I couldn't help but feel nervous because I wasn't used to him looking at me. I was accustomed to the disdainful glances he used to throw at me, especially when I was being dramatic like this.

Despite his lack of response, I proceeded to prepare food for him, grabbing a bowl and spoon from the table in the corner and retrieving the thermos food jar with porridge inside, which I had brought earlier.

I added shredded chicken to it and approached him slowly. Because of my nervousness, my hands were trembling. I sat on the side of his bed, drawing closer to him as if it were normal for us to be this close because we were a married couple. He couldn't remember anything, so I seized that opportunity, just as his mom had suggested.

I mixed the porridge, which was still steaming. Taking a spoonful, I brought it toward his mouth, but he didn't open it. Even though he couldn't remember, he certainly wouldn't let me serve him.

"It's still hot," he remarked. "Blow on it." His request surprised me. Blow on it? Was he sure? My breathing near him used to annoy him, so why did he want me to blow on his food? It seemed like his amnesia might have its advantages. I might even enjoy this.

I followed his instructions and blew on the porridge. After it had cooled down a bit, I fed it to him.

"Did you cook this?" he inquired after swallowing.

"Y-yes. Did you like it?"

He nodded in response. I added more to his spoon, and he relished a hearty meal, finishing the food I had prepared for him.

After taking some water and taking his medication, he lay down once more. He continued to experience bodily discomfort, and the bruises on his sides, arms, and legs maintained their purplish hue, making it challenging for him to move. I provided help.

Around eight o'clock, his parents bid farewell and left the ward. They mentioned they would return early tomorrow so I could head home and get some rest.

Ivan was sound asleep. Meanwhile, I sat on the large sofa, considering taking a short nap in case drowsiness set in. As the clock struck ten, I began to feel a wave of sleepiness washing over me. Ivan was resting peacefully, so I decided to join him for a brief nap.

I remained unsure about the number of minutes or hours that had passed when I suddenly heard faint whispers engaged in conversation. I cautiously opened my eyes but promptly closed them when I discerned the voices more clearly.

It was Maureen! Maureen had returned to the hospital and was now conversing with Ivan.

"I miss you so much, Ivan," Maureen said, her voice tinged with tears.

"I miss you too," my husband replied.

"I came back just as we discussed before. I returned after a year."

Given the way Ivan was conversing with Maureen, I couldn't be certain if he truly had amnesia.

"I'm confused, Maureen. I know I love you, but why did I marry her?"

I froze upon hearing Ivan's words. I couldn't bear to listen to Maureen's response, so I pretended I was about to wake up, although I had been awake for a while, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I think she might be waking up. I need to leave before she informs your parents. I love you, Ivan."

I heard Maureen's footsteps as she made her way to the door.

She had been gone for a few minutes, yet I kept my eyes closed, not wanting Ivan to realize that I was awake and not wanting him to see the sadness in my eyes.