Chapter 3
"It wasn't my seed that was injected into you. The child you're carrying belongs to another man, Andrea!"
Andrea's world collapsed. She was carrying another man's baby!
"No… that's not true!" she cried out, but her body trembled, weighed down by the cruel truth. Her heart felt ripped apart, each beat striking her chest like a violent blow.
"How could you do this to me?" she nearly screamed, her tearful eyes locked on her husband. "How could you do this to me, Cedric? Why? I never did anything wrong to you! I only loved you… trusted you… obeyed your every command. All I ever dreamed of was to give you a child. But this is what you give me in return? How could you betray me like this?"
The pain was unbearable, like a wound that would never heal. Her trust, her love for her husband—destroyed in a single instant.
Cedric's glare was sharp, his voice cold, each word slicing her deeper. "Enough, Andrea. Don't make a scene in my office! Get out. Now! And do yourself a favor—go home and pack your things. From this moment on, I refuse to live under the same roof with you. We'll file for annulment immediately. I want you out of my life for good!"
Andrea staggered out of his office, each step heavy, as though the floor itself was draining her strength. She had no idea where to go, no idea how to escape the weight of her agony.
She was betrayed. Deceived. Cast aside. The crushing despair smothered her, as if life itself had been stripped away.
Inside her car, her hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel. Slowly, she pressed a trembling palm against her stomach—against the innocent child who had become the root of her world's ruin.
Tears spilled uncontrollably, relentless, flooding her chest with grief. The same question echoed over and over in her mind.
Whose seed is in my womb?Whose child am I carrying?
And with no answer, she crumbled further.
Still dazed, still crying, Andrea clutched her stomach when her phone suddenly rang. She glanced at the screen and saw her mother's name.
Her voice shook as she answered."Ma…"
A cheerful voice greeted her from the other end. "Andheng, my child! Your sister Cerys is home! She called and said she's having dinner here tonight. Come too, Andheng, so I can be with both of you."
Two worlds pierced Andrea's chest—one shattered by her husband's betrayal, the other filled with the warmth of home that was pulling her back.
But how could she smile, how could she sit at the table, when inside her womb lived a question without an answer?
Andrea shut her eyes tightly, forcing her voice steady. "Ma… I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well. Maybe… I'll come home next time."
Her mother fell silent for a moment, then spoke again, now with gentle pleading. "My child, just this once, please grant me this. You know it's the first time Cerys herself asked to have dinner here. Andheng, you know my condition… we don't know—what if tomorrow I'm gone, and tonight is the only night I get to have dinner with both of you together?"
Andrea froze, biting her lip. Her chest twisted with pain at her mother's words. With a deep sigh, she forced the tears out of her voice. "O-okay, Ma… I'll come," she whispered, barely audible.
She hadn't even ended the call when her mother's voice chimed again, this time with a teasing lilt. "Andheng, can you stop by the bakeshop? Buy buko pie for Cerys, she requested it earlier. She said she wants it for dinner."
"Alright, Ma… I'll get it."
It was already dark when Andrea arrived at her mother's house. The moment she stepped into the living room, she froze. The entire place was decorated in soft white and pastel colors—rose gold and sage green balloons arched to the side, fairy lights twinkling on the walls, and a long table dressed with minimalist cake stands and mason jars brimming with flowers.
At the center hung an elegant acrylic sign engraved with the words: "Welcome Baby!"
"Ma… I'm here," Andrea called from the living room, trying to steady her voice.
Her mother's lively response came from the kitchen, brimming with joy. "Andheng! You're here already? Come, I'm in the kitchen!" she called out like an excited child.
Andrea hurried to the kitchen, carrying two boxes of special buko pie. There, she found her mother sweating as she busily set the dishes on the table, as if her body bore no illness at all.
She quickly scolded her. "Mama! What are you doing? You're not supposed to overwork yourself. You're still undergoing chemo. You should be resting, not straining yourself like this." She placed the buko pies on the table firmly.
But her mother only smiled, wiping sweat from her brow with the hem of her shirt. "Andheng, don't scold me. I wanted this. It's been so long since I've prepared dinner for you and Cerys."
Andrea bit her lip, unable to answer. While her mother seemed cheerful and determined, Andrea herself was suffocating inside, broken but forcing back her tears so as not to burden her.
"Oh, my half-sister is already here!"
The shrill, dramatic voice made Andrea flinch. Cerys entered in a fitted dress that flaunted her curves, glittering jewelry draped over her neck and wrists, strutting like she owned the place. She was stunning—flawless skin, elegant, glamorous, like a model stepping out of a glossy magazine.
Andrea spoke softly, forcing calm. "Cerys… when did you arrive?"
"A week ago, actually," Cerys replied airily, adjusting her hair as she admired herself in her phone's reflection. She barely cared about Andrea's shock.
Then she added, without shame, "I went straight to Bohol with my boyfriend. You know, a quick getaway. The resort was amazing—five stars, exclusive, totally worth it."
She winked, clearly bragging about her lavish trip.
Andrea remained silent, simply watching her sister's smug smile and glittering jewelry, wondering how Cerys could indulge in luxury while their mother battled cancer, enduring endless treatments and pain.
Not a single cent had Cerys given to help. And now, watching her mother sweat in the kitchen, straining her sick body to prepare a special dinner for an ungrateful child… Andrea's chest ached with rage.
She chose silence instead. "And what are the decorations in the living room for?" she asked instead.
Cerys's grin widened, her eyes sparkling as she touched her stomach. "Yes! I'm pregnant!" she announced proudly, brimming with glee.
Andrea froze, her body turning cold. The word "pregnant" struck her like a slap. It was unbearable—especially when she herself bore a secret pregnancy that had shattered her life.
"Surprise! That's why I arranged this small baby shower dinner. Just intimate, just us." She paused, lifting a brow, her smile dripping with mockery. "I had no choice but to share this celebration with you… since you're the only family I've got." Her sarcasm stung like a blade.
Cerys rolled her eyes, smirking as she cradled her belly. "Although I'm planning a big baby shower soon for my baby," she boasted. "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend's signal—'cause you know… the father of my baby is still married to some hypocrite. That's why he can't introduce me yet to his wealthy family."
Orlena nearly dropped the ladle from her hand. Her eyes widened in shock. "My child… what did you just say? The man who got you pregnant is married?" Her trembling voice betrayed disbelief.
Cerys feigned innocence, then scoffed. "Mom, don't overreact. The father of my baby loves me. Soon, he'll leave that hypocrite wife of his and make me his legal wife."
"But, Cerys—"
"Ma, please…" Cerys cut her off, her voice cold and laced with scorn. "I don't need your advice. No one does. Everyone knows where you came from anyway."
She let out a laugh, lifting her brow. "Didn't you also become the mistress of a married man once? So please—don't preach to me about morals you never had."
Orlena's eyes widened as if lightning had struck the kitchen. The air thickened with suffocating silence.
Andrea couldn't bear it anymore. She slammed the buko pie boxes onto the counter and glared at her sister. "Enough, Cerys!" she snapped. "You have no right to hurt Mama like that. You don't know what she's going through, and now you say things like this?"
Cerys only smirked, crossing her arms, clearly entertained by the rising tension. "Oh, look at you, Chelsea Andrea… always the perfect daughter. Mommy's little defender, her shield, her pride. Tell me, Andrea, doesn't it get tiring pretending to be flawless when deep down, you're nothing but a disappointment?"
Andrea's chest clenched like a needle had pierced her. Did her sister know something more? Where did she draw such cruelty from?
She was about to retort when Cerys's phone rang. She glanced at it, and her eyes sparkled. "My boyfriend is almost here," she said, suddenly serious, her tone sharp.
"Hurry up with that table!" she barked, glaring at Andrea and their mother. "I don't want to be embarrassed in front of him. You know how important this is—my boyfriend is rich, powerful, and I won't let him see this house looking cheap or messy."
Andrea felt the sting of her sister's command. Meanwhile, Orlena, weak as she was, forced herself to move, while Cerys sat back like a queen, preoccupied with her looks, oblivious to their mother's suffering.
Moments later, a loud honk echoed outside, followed by the stop of a luxury car. Cerys's face lit up, nearly jumping with excitement. "He's here!" she squealed, rushing out of the kitchen.
Andrea gently supported her frail mother. "Careful, Ma," she whispered, holding her trembling arm.
"Come in, my love. I prepared a little celebration for our baby," Cerys said sweetly, clinging to her boyfriend's arm. She was glowing with pride as she introduced the man who gave her a reason to brag.
The man entered with ease, but when Andrea raised her eyes to see him, her world shattered completely. Her body went cold, her breath hitched, and she nearly dropped her mother's arm.
Because the man—the father of Cerys's child—was none other than Cedric Sytengco, her husband!