She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

At 7:20 PM, the taxi stopped at the entrance of Westmont Heights.

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“Miss, I’d rather not drive inside,” the driver said apologetically. “Too much paperwork to get through security.”

“That’s fine. Just drop me off here. Celia paid and got out.

The cool autumn night air wrapped around her, carrying the faint scent of wilting leaves. She pulled her trench coat tighter, picked up her bag, and walked toward the scattering of lit villas in the distance.

The guard at the entrance booth saw her and leaned out. “Mrs. Lucero? You’re back?”

It was Yandel, a familiar face who’d worked here for years.

Celia gave a small nod. “Evening, Yandel.”

“Evening, ma’am.” Yandel opened the pedestrian gate. “You’re walking in? I can call a patrol car to take you up to the main house. It’s a good seven or eight minutes walk.”

“No need. I’ll walk.” Celia declined gently. “Thank you.”

She passed through the iron gate and stepped onto the asphalt road that wound into the heart of the neighborhood. Tall plane trees lined both sides, their leaves rustling in the night breeze. The street lamps cast dim golden halos, stretching her solitary shadow long behind her.

She had walked this road many times before. Right after she married Beckham, when Emily used to call her back every week for “family time,” she always walked this stretch alone.

Back then, her stomach would knot with anxiety, wondering how she would handle Emily’s barbs that night and how to keep the peace on the surface without provoking Beckham.

Eventually, she learned that no matter what she did, it always ended up the same.

Her footsteps echoed on the quiet road. Celia didn’t walk fast. Her gaze drifted over the familiar houses along the way. Some glowed with warm light, faint laughter drifting from inside. Others stood dark, their owners probably still out at business dinners.

This was what they called an “elite community.” Behind every door, joys and sorrows played out. They just never showed them to the outside world.

Seven or eight minutes later, the familiar iron gate of Lucero Mansion appeared in front of her.

The gate was slightly ajar, and the courtyard was brightly lit. Warm yellow light spilled from the floor-to- ceiling windows of the main house, and she could hear Laylah’s soft voice, a child’s bright laugh, and Emily’s higher pitch drifting out.

Celia stood at the gate for a few seconds, her fingers tightening unconsciously around the handle of her bag. Then she pushed the gate open and walked in.

She crossed the well-manicured front courtyard. The motion sensor lights embedded along the cobblestone path flickered on one by one as she passed. The main door stood open, and warm light

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Chapter 25

poured out along with the clearer sound of voices.

Celia’s steps faltered for a moment at the threshold, then she stepped inside.

The chatter in the living room stopped mid-sentence.

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The crystal chandelier blazed overhead, the light almost too bright. Celia blinked and took in the scene.

On the couch, Beckham and Laylah sat side by side. Laylah held Ricardo in her arms. A small bandage was taped to his forehead, and he looked listless, though he still clutched a toy car in his hand.

Emily sat in the armchair nearby, a coffee cup in her hand. And Tanner’s usual seat, the main armchair, sat empty. He must be upstairs in his study.

Everyone’s eyes locked onto Celia, and for a moment, the air froze.

“What are you doing here?” Emily was the first to recover. She slammed her cup down on the coffee table with a sharp clink. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble today? Look at Ricardo. Look what you did to him.”

Celia stood where she was, her back straight. Without looking at Emily, she glanced at the empty armchair, then toward the stairs. “Is Dad home? I told him I was coming.”

“You have the nerve to bring him up?” Emily stood up and strode over to Celia, her finger nearly jabbing into her face.

“Celia, I underestimated you. You couldn’t have a child yourself, so you went after someone else’s? How could you be so vicious?”

Laylah chose that moment to pull Ricardo closer, her voice thick with tears: “Mrs. Lucero, please don’t. Ms. Ross probably… didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to?” Emily let out a cold laugh and turned to Beckham. “Beckham, you tell me. At the office today, did she push Ricardo or didn’t she?”

Beckham’s brow was furrowed, his eyes fixed on Celia’s face. His expression was complicated, with residual anger, obvious frustration, and something else Celia couldn’t quite read, something like exhaustion.

“I didn’t push him.” Celia’s voice was as calm as still water. “Ricardo tripped on his own. I tried to catch him. I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Wasn’t fast enough?” Emily’s voice shot up. “Half the office saw what happened, and you’re still lying?”

“There are security cameras in the office.” Celia enunciated each word slowly. “You can check the footage.”

The words landed like a stone dropped into still water, and the living room went dead quiet.

Beckham’s brow furrowed even deeper. Laylah’s arms tightened around Ricardo, though her face stayed soft and wounded. She even leaned a little closer to Beckham.

Emily’s expression flickered, then settled into something almost like a smug smile. “Cameras? Ha. You only said that because you knew the camera system in Beckham’s office has been under maintenance for the past two days, huh?”

Celia’s eyes narrowed slightly. The cameras are down for maintenance? How convenient,’ she thought to

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Chapter 25

herself.

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Emily wore a face sharp with undisguised contempt. Laylah lowered her eyes in pretended modesty, though the faintest curl at the corner of her mouth gave her away. Beckham stayed silent, absently rubbing the arm of the couch.

And Ricardo clutched Laylah’s collar, face buried against her shoulder, peeking out at Celia with wide, wary eyes full of fear and confusion, and something else the adults around him had planted there without him even knowing.

Celia suddenly felt tired, not hurt or angry, just a bone deep exhaustion.

She looked at the people in this room: her mother-in-law in name only, her husband in the eyes of the law, his lover, and his child.

‘What a complete little family they make, Celia thought ironically. ‘And me? I’ve been the outsider all along!’

“Mom,” Beckham finally said, his voice rough, “enough.”

“Enough what?” Emily spun around. “Beckham, look at her. She’s still lying through her teeth. What did we do to deserve…”

“Enough.” A stern voice came from the second floor.

Everyone looked up.

Tanner stood at the railing, his face dark. He wore dark gray loungewear and held a book in his hand, clearly just stepped out of his study. Light spilled down over him, lending him a towering silhouette.

“Dad…” Beckham stood up.

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