Your performance is over
Marco
The woman I once thought was my wife appeared to be on the verge of madness.
It was as if she were choking on her own lies, still desperately clinging to the role she chose to play. But no matter how hard she tried, the truth was starting to seep through the cracks. Her mask was slipping.
I couldn’t see Ashlyn in her anymore. The illusion had shattered. This woman... she wasn’t my wife. She wasn’t Ashlyn.
The thought of leaving Asher alone in this house with only Rere watching over him made me nervous. I had no idea what Ashley was capable of anymore. Even with a mountain of work waiting at the office, I chose to stay home.
Andy and I kept in touch through calls and emails. He sent all the urgent documents I needed digitally. It wasn’t ideal, but none of that mattered now. My son’s safety came first.
I avoided Asher.
And yes, it hurt. Deeply.
But I had to do it.
If Ashley ever asked the maids how I was treating the child, I wanted her to hear the cold truth, that I had no affection for a child she never should have brought into this world. I wanted it to sting. I wanted her to feel that her illusion was crumbling.
I trusted no one in this house to keep secrets from her, except for Rere. She was the only one who knew the truth. And more importantly, she knew what had to be done.
I started collecting everything, every piece of evidence that would prove who Ashley really was.
Photos. Medical records. CCTV footage. Receipts. Anything that could help uncover the lie she had built.
But it wasn’t just about exposing her. I wanted her to admit it. I wanted to hear her say it, say that she had known all along. From the moment she opened her eyes in that hospital bed… she knew she wasn’t Ashlyn. And she chose to play along.
A week had passed since she left the house. I hoped Andy’s investigation had turned up something, anything.
My phone buzzed. Andy was calling.
"Hello," I answered, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Sir," his voice came in slightly breathless, "I’ve got a lead. We may have found where Ma’am Ashlyn is staying."
I froze.
Ashlyn… my real wife?
"Where is she?" I managed to ask, breath catching in my throat.
"Nueva Ecija, Sir."
"Nueva Ecija?" I whispered, barely able to believe it. “Are you sure?”
"Yes, Sir. Confirmed."
I swallowed hard.
Ashlyn… she was there all along. My wife. The woman I loved. The one I failed.
A part of me wanted to get in the car and drive straight there. I missed her so damn much. I wanted to hold her, to see her, to beg for her forgiveness even if I wasn’t the one who had betrayed her.
Andy already knew everything I had uncovered about Ashley. That was why we were both certain now: Ashley was Asher’s mother. Ashlyn had been the victim all along.
"What do you plan to do next, Sir?" Andy asked.
"Keep an eye on her for now," I said, gripping the phone tightly. "I don’t want Ashley to get anywhere near her if I decide to bring her home. We can’t risk it."
"Is it possible Ashley’s looking for her, too?" Andy added. "She’s been insisting on returning to work, it might be a cover to move around more freely."
I paused, thinking. He had a point.
"That’s possible. But I also think someone’s helping her," I said. "Assign someone to follow her every move. We can’t afford to slip."
"Copy that, Sir. Also, I’ll email you the revised ad proposal for our new project."
"Alright. I’ll check it right away. Keep me posted, Andy. Every detail, no matter how small."
"Yes, Sir."
As the call ended, I exhaled deeply. For the first time in weeks… I felt a spark of hope.
I was close.
So close to having Ashlyn back in my arms.
Damn it… I just wanted to hold my wife again. I wanted this nightmare to end. But even now, the bitterness burns in my chest.
Ashley.
She had fooled us all.
A few days later, I received an email from Andy. The fingerprint results were in.
It confirmed what I had feared, and suspected all along.
My hands clenched into tight fists as anger pulsed through me. My entire body shook.
How could you do this to Ashlyn…? To me?
My jaw tightened, grinding with fury.
I couldn’t forgive myself.
I had failed my wife.
I was her husband, but I had fathered a child with her twin… her impostor.
I shot up from my chair and stormed out of the study. I went straight downstairs.
In the living room, I saw Rere holding Asher. The child giggled as he played with her. The room was quiet… yet my chest ached with guilt. This innocent child didn’t ask for any of this.
"Sir," Rere greeted softly.
"How is he?" I asked, barely able to look at them.
"He’s alright, Sir," she replied, tightening her hold on the baby protectively.
I nodded, saying nothing more. I turned and walked away, heading back upstairs to the bedroom I once shared with my real wife.
As I entered, I walked straight to the walk-in closet.
One by one, I pulled out the drawers, cabinets, and hangers. Every dress. Every maternity outfit. Every blouse. Even her lingerie.
These were things Ashley had worn. Things I had once bought for Ashlyn.
Now they felt tainted, coated in a sense of betrayal.
I couldn’t stand the sight of them.
I picked up my phone and called two of the house staff.
"Take all of this out," I ordered coldly. "Burn everything. Leave nothing behind."
Just then, Ashley appeared at the doorway.
"What are you doing?" she asked, shocked. Disbelief was written all over her face.
I looked at her sharply.
I stared long and hard.
She still looked exactly like Ashlyn. Same voice. Same mannerisms. Even the way she looked at me…
But now I know.
This was not my wife.
I scoffed bitterly.
"Your performance is over, Ashley," I said firmly.
Her eyes widened in panic.