CHAPTER 1

Not so perfect

The sound of my stilettos echoed as I walked toward the staircase of our house. A massive crystal chandelier sparkled in the center, casting light across the dim interior even though it was still early in the morning. The lights were always on because of the dark design of the space. I sighed. My husband wanted to talk about it again. I didn’t understand why he was so obsessed with the idea. I, for one, had no desire to complicate things by entertaining it.

I gracefully opened the door to my husband’s office and walked in with a look of disgust on my face.

"Are we really going to argue about that again, Nikkoz?" I asked.

"Why do you hate the idea so much, Zura? From the start, we both knew this would be one of your responsibilities as my wife," he replied through clenched teeth, still not bothering to look up at me. Apparently, the papers on his desk were more interesting than the woman who was once again about to argue with him.

I rolled my eyes and gently massaged his shoulders.

"Oh please, you knew even before we got married that I never wanted to have a child," I said, repulsed by the thought of pregnancy.

Yes, the root of our argument was me refusing to get pregnant. From the beginning, I had told him I didn’t want kids. I feared the complications, and I believed having a child would have a huge impact on our relationship—possibly even break it. That was my stance. Yet here we were, treating it like an unresolved issue because he chose to ignore my words.

"I don’t know what to do with you anymore, Zura. I’m going to Cebu today to pick up Marco and bring him home. Pack my things, hon."

My eyes widened at his remark. Was he serious?

"What?! You’re bringing your bastard here? What do you think people will say when they find out you brought your illegitimate child into our home?" I shrieked.

How dare he!

"What else can I do, Zura? You refuse to bear my child. I have no choice but to bring Marco here. I’m not getting any younger. All I want is to take care of my own son."

His words stung. Is a family only valid if there’s a child involved? Was I not enough? Had I known that a child would complete his life, I wouldn’t have married him at all. He didn’t even respect my decision.

"Do what you want! But let me make one thing clear: I will never take care of that kid!" I snapped and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

Tears streamed down my face as I headed to our bedroom.

Nikkoz had a child from a past fling. He didn’t know about the pregnancy—until years later, after he had become CEO of their company at 26. That same year we began fighting about me not wanting kids. He married me before finding out about Marco.

By the time we found out, Nikkoz and I had been married for two years. I didn’t mind the child at first. But over time, I noticed how he was spending less time with me—always visiting his son at the boy’s mother’s place. Eventually, he said he wanted the boy to live with us. I strongly disagreed. Children complicate everything.

When I reached our bedroom, I went straight to the bathroom. I cried, letting out all my frustration. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about our argument.

I eventually cleaned myself up and packed my husband’s things for his trip to Cebu. Despite everything, it was still my duty as his wife to prepare for him.

I finished packing, then lay down on our bed. It was only 9 a.m., and I was so bored and exhausted that I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep.

---

"Zura, dear, have you eaten? You missed lunch and didn’t have any snacks either."

I slowly woke up to the sound of Manang Lita knocking on the door. I checked my phone—it was already 8 p.m. I’d slept far longer than I thought.

"I’ll come down, Manang. Just let me wash my face first," I said, heading to the bathroom. But before I got there, she said something that ruined my mood.

"Your husband and Marco are already here. They’re waiting for you so you can eat together."

And then she walked away.

So the bastard was already here. My husband didn’t even wake me to say goodbye before leaving for Cebu—and now he didn’t bother waking me when he got back either.

I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror to make sure I looked presentable. Once I was ready, I went downstairs to the dining area.

As I neared the table, Nikkoz—seated with the boy—noticed me and whispered something to him. Marco stood, walked carefully toward me, and placed my hand on his forehead.

"Good evening, Mommy," he said, then returned to his seat.

I rolled my eyes at him calling me *Mommy.* His mother, whom he called *Nanay,* and my husband had agreed he would call me that. His mother didn’t object—she respected our decision. But still...

I walked straight to my seat, and the helpers began to serve dinner.

We ate in silence—until my husband spoke.

"Marco, I’ll leave you with Mommy and Manang Lita for now while I finish work. Once I’m free, I’ll have more time to spend with you. Don’t be stubborn, okay?"

"Yes, Dad," the boy said, continuing to eat.

"Nikkoz, why don’t you just hire someone to watch over Marco? Manang Lita is always busy around the house."

"No. It’s better if only we take care of Marco," he said, not even glancing at me.

As a good wife, I didn’t argue. I kept my thoughts about Marco’s care to myself.

After dinner, Marco went upstairs to unpack. I asked Hayen, one of the maids, to help him so he wouldn’t make a mess.

My husband went back to his office. Wanting to avoid another argument in front of the child, I followed him and locked the door behind me.

He looked surprised to see me, but his expression quickly went blank.

"Don’t tell me we’re going to fight again, Zura," he said, his jaw tightening.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I walked to his desk, grabbed a bottle of tequila and a glass, then sat in his chair and drank.

"It’s been five years since we got married, Nikkoz. Hah! Who said marriage is easy? We’ve been fighting about this for three of those years," I said, sipping my drink.

He stood there, still, but I could see the anger in his eyes.

"I told you from the start—I don’t want children. I’m not good with kids, Nikkoz."

"You can learn, Zura! Why are you so against having a child?"

I glanced at him but didn’t answer.

"Let’s just end this issue, Nikkoz. You already have Marco. You don’t need another child. I won’t be mad that you brought him here—just stop being mad at me for not wanting to bear one. I simply don’t want it," I pleaded.

I was willing to do everything to be a perfect and loving wife. Just not that part.

Nikkoz let out a deep sigh and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around me from behind and planting soft kisses on my hair.

"Okay. I hope someday you’ll change your mind about this, hon," he whispered. I didn’t catch the rest, but the word *okay* was all I needed. I let the rest go and simply embraced the warmth of his hug.

"I love you, Zura. So much."

"I love you too, hon," I replied, a peaceful smile on my face.

At last, the issue seemed settled.

"I just really hope you’ll change your mind, hon."

"What?"

"Nothing, hon," he said and kissed my hair again. He pulled away and bent to pick up the papers I had shoved aside earlier when I grabbed the tequila.

sairenithy

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