Desmond's Claim (Claiming His Wife Series Book 1)

Chapter 3: No Choice

Dasha’s life, or Nicole’s for that matter, changed drastically in just a couple of days. The puzzle that the diamond rings presented to her ever since she woke up in the hospital had been resolved. The initials engraved underneath the rings, DSC, stood for Desmond Sigvald Crellin. Her husband. There was no denying it.

Her fingerprints ran through the National Bureau of Investigation confirmed that she was indeed Dasha Gonzales. In the record, it was still her maiden name. She must not have changed her status even after she got married, which she had no idea why.

“I had no memory about anyone at all. I didn’t even know my name. So, Miss Carmelita Hernandez, bless her soul, took me in. She was the one who found me unconscious with a bleeding head,” she paused, showing the scar on her left temple to Desmond and the police officers. She added that the old lady died at seventy-nine the previous year.

Desmond looked at her with such intensity that her heart fluttered. Her eyes went to his left hand, where his wedding ring was.

Didn’t he take it off? Didn’t he even think I was dead? she wondered.

“Tita Carmel, that’s what I called her then, had no living relatives. She thought that it would be better for me to live with her when I got out of the hospital, since the doctor told us of my condition. No one came to look for me. I had no ID with me or anything when Tita Carmelita found me. Because I had nowhere to go, I didn’t know or remembered anyone, I agreed. Since then, I lived with her. She gave me a new identity, using her money. I couldn’t say no to it. I wanted to have a name of my own. I wanted to be identified and called by a name like a normal person. She was like my haven during the stormy period of my life. When she passed away, she left everything in my name. The name she gave me as her adopted niece.”

“Well, we’re not here to discuss about inheritance. No one’s contesting it, so let’s leave it as it is,” the desk officer said. “But here, your husband wants you to go home with him. As his wife, your place is with him. Even more so, with your current condition, you’re supposed to be taken care of, Mrs. Crellin.”

And that was it. Her forty-year-old husband was her legal guardian from then on.

It was awkward, upon learning she had an instant husband. She asked him if she could still stay in Carmelita’s house, just as she used to. Thankfully, he agreed, and he stayed in a five-star hotel.

“But we have to go somewhere,” he told her as they stood in the parking space in front of the police station.

“Where?” she asked, frowning at him.

“Your parents’.”

That was like another bomb dropped on her lap. She had no idea that she had them. From Manila, where she lived and managed the antique shop, they resided more than three hours away from her. If only she knew, she could have just driven there or even lived with them while she recuperated after the accident.

Now, she looked at the couple, who was standing in front of their two-story home. The upper level was where they lived and the lower one had a small convenience store, which they themselves managed from what she learned. The couple wore casual clothes—jeans and T-shirt paired with city slippers. She was also brought to speed by Desmond that her mother actually remarried, so she was now carrying another surname that was her second husband’s, which was Catada. He told her that her father died when she was young.

“Dasha, anak (my daughter)!” Fe cried. The fifty-year-old petite woman opened her arms to welcome her long-lost daughter.

Dasha’s hot tears flowed down her cheeks as she stepped into her mother’s embrace, while Desmond watched their reunion. She closed her eyes and smelled her scent. It was familiar. It was the smell of talcum powder.

Yes, she’s my mother. I just know it from deep inside.

She glanced at her fifty-two-year-old stepfather, Jun, as he patted her shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re okay, Dasha. Your mother got worried sick. The last time you called her, you told her that you’re coming home. But you never did,” he recounted sadly.

“Now that we found her, I’m taking her back to the Isle of Man, Ma,” Desmond announced.

Dasha’s parents stared at him almost in disbelief, while she was pushing the invisible marble in her throat. It was no news to her anymore. The following day after finding her, they went to the Department of Foreign Affairs to process her passport. The earliest they could expedite it was seven days.

“We’ll just wait for her passport to be sent to us in a week, so you have time to be together. I’m not sure when we’re coming back though,” Desmond added, giving Dasha a daring look.

Dasha took a deep breath. She had no choice but to go with him. She wanted to retrieve her memories. She wanted to get to know the man she married before she met the accident in Valenzuela two years ago. From her mother’s story, she never told her clearly when she was coming, that was why they did not meet her at the airport. If she only informed them, she knew that it would have been a different story and outcome.

“But why didn’t I tell you the exact date and time I would arrive?” she asked her mother.

“Anak, let’s not dwell in the past, all right? Let’s move forward instead. I’m just happy that you’re safe.” Her mother stroked her hair, looking at her face with such love. She sniffled and gave her a small and somehow guilty smile—if she read it correctly. “Go with Desmond. He will take you to your favorite cliff over there,” she urged, nodding to the eastern part of their home.

She let Desmond guide her there. The panoramic view where she could see the myriad of green trees and the fresh air were soothing.

“You told me this place is special to you. Don’t you remember something?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

She shook her head, wondering what was special about this place.

***

Days passed by so quickly. Desmond did not show his face to Dasha while she went on to her routine like nothing had changed. She told her assistant, Melanie, about everything though, except for that part when her husband told her that she had to pay a huge debt to him. What the debt was, he never mentioned until now. But she had a feeling he would tell her when they were back home in the Isle of Man.

Why am I afraid of going back there if it’s where our home is?