I'm Legal Wife

Chapter 3 — New Roots, New Futures

The Singapore sun rose early over the vast plantation fields, golden light spilling across neat rows of fruit trees and vibrant crops. Eryl Saeve moved briskly through the grounds, clipboard in hand, her boots crunching softly on the gravel path. Eight years had passed since she had fled Leyte with her children, and every day since had been a test of endurance, courage, and determination.

Her business, inherited from her late friend, had started small just a modest plantation supplying fruits and local goods. But Eryl’s hands, sharp mind, and relentless work ethic had transformed it into a thriving enterprise, expanding distribution to nearby countries in Southeast Asia and even Europe. She had built a name for herself quietly, one that demanded respect without ever revealing the shadows of her past.

She stopped at a cluster of workers inspecting the new irrigation system.

“Everything on schedule?” she asked, her tone calm but authoritative.

one of the foremen replied, “Yes, Ms. Saeve, the machinery will be fully operational by next week.”

Eryl nodded.

She liked control.

She liked knowing that everything she touched could grow, flourish, and survive unlike the fragile life she once had in Leyte. The plantation was more than business; it was freedom. Each fruit, each tree, each successful harvest was a victory over a past that had tried to break her.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Aeron. Mama, graduation schedule finalized. We need to coordinate dates.

She smiled faintly, slipping the phone into her pocket. Her children were no longer small, fragile beings hiding behind her skirts. They were young adults, strong, intelligent, and full of potential. Graduation was not just a milestone it was a symbol of survival.

Later that afternoon, Eryl gathered the children in their sleek Singapore apartment. The space was modern, bright, and meticulously organized, a reflection of her disciplined mind. Vhenn, now 26, had a confident presence, his tall frame and sharp features hinting at the man he had become. Deyr, 22, was quieter but thoughtful, already showing the meticulous care that would make him successful in the medical field. Vale, 17, still carried a soft innocence, but her eyes reflected the resilience she had learned from years of watching her mother endure.

“Have you all checked your schedules?” Eryl asked, sipping her coffee.

“Make sure there are no clashes, and remember this is your day your achievements, your hard work.” she said.

“We’ve coordinated everything, Mama, no conflicts, all classes accounted for. Graduation day is set.” Vhenn replied, handing her a small folder.

Vale peeked nervously at her mother. “Mama are we ready for this? Graduation feels....different like we’re stepping into another life.”

Eryl placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “We’ve been stepping into new lives for eight years, Vale this is just another one, you are ready. All of you are.”

Aeron added, “It feels surreal, Mama eight years ago, we barely knew what normal life was and now...look at us.”

Eryl smiled, feeling a quiet pride swell in her chest. They were no longer children living in fear. They were thriving proof that escape, courage, and hard work could yield not just survival, but success.

After the discussion, Eryl returned to her office at the plantation. Contracts awaited her signature, clients demanded updates, and staff sought guidance. She moved with practiced efficiency, juggling numbers, shipments, and meetings. Each decision carried weight, but unlike in the past, this weight was hers to bear—unshared, unjudged, and wholly earned.

She glanced at a framed photo on her desk, her children, young and hopeful, taken just after they arrived in Singapore. The photo was a reminder of how far they had come. Her heart ached faintly, remembering Leyte the fear, the blood, the flight—but she refused to dwell on it. The past was a shadow.

The present was hers to shape.

By evening, she made one final check on the plantation operations. Workers waved from the fields, and Eryl waved back, satisfied. For the first time, the life she had built didn’t feel temporary or fragile. It was real. It was hers.

And tomorrow, they would celebrate another kind of achievement: the culmination of years of resilience, study, and survival her children stepping into adulthood, fully aware of the hardships they had overcome.

Eryl Saeve paused, taking a deep breath.

Singapore was far from Leyte, far from the terror of a past life, but it had given her something Leyte never could: independence, control, and hope.

For the first time in years, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. She had not only survived. She had thrived. And she would continue to do so alongside her children, in a life she had fought fiercely to protect.

The first light of day broke over the plantation, streaking the sky with pastel pink and gold. Eryl walked among the rows of fruit trees, checking the irrigation systems herself, occasionally stopping to inspect the quality of leaves and fruit. Some of the workers paused, noticing her methodical attention to every detail.

“She’s thorough,” one of the younger staff whispered.

“Not like the other owners I’ve seen, she knows the work from the ground up.” one of the younger staff whispered.

Eryl smiled faintly but said nothing knowledge was power, and experience was respect. Eight years ago, she had escaped a life filled with fear and manipulation; now, she was in control of every decision. Her empire wasn’t just a business it was proof that she could survive and flourish without anyone controlling her.

She paused near a patch of papaya trees, bending slightly to inspect the fruits. Her phone buzzed with messages: shipments to Manila, updates from their European distributor, and a reminder about the children’s graduation. She scanned the messages, feeling a swell of quiet pride. Her children were thriving. Her business was thriving. And she was alive—truly alive for the first time in years.

Back at the apartment, the children prepared for graduation events. Vhenn was meticulous, checking his speech for his college convocation.

He paced slowly, adjusting his tie for the hundredth time. “I want everything perfect,” he muttered, though he rarely admitted nervousness out loud.

Deyr was reviewing his research notes. As a medical student, he was practical, serious, and often quiet. He sometimes drifted off into thought, imagining the future he wanted to build for himself and secretly, a life that would make his mother proud.

Vale, now seventeen, was fussing over her gown, a mixture of excitement and anxiety written across her youthful face. “Mama, do you think Papa would notice us if he saw us now?” she asked timidly.

Eryl’s hand rested lightly on her daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t think about him, Vale focus on your life focus on what you’ve achieved that's the only thing that matters.”

Vale nodded, but her eyes lingered on the window, on the distant skyline of Singapore. Eight years ago, their lives had been consumed by fear and fleeing. Now, the city itself felt like freedom but the shadow of the past was never fully gone.

After seeing the children settled for the afternoon, Eryl returned to the plantation office. Contracts awaited her signature, emails piled in, and staff called with questions. She moved seamlessly from task to task, negotiating deals in English, Mandarin, and even basic Malay.

A European distributor called, asking for an expansion of the citrus supply. Eryl handled it effortlessly, arranging logistics, pricing, and delivery schedules. The conversation ended with a polite but firm affirmation of her authority. She hung up and leaned back, exhausted but satisfied.

The plantation was no longer a lifeline it was her legacy. Every successful harvest, every shipment sent abroad, and every client pleased was a testament to her resilience. She had escaped a dark past, rebuilt from nothing, and now thrived on her own terms.

As dusk fell, Eryl walked along the edge of the plantation, the wind carrying a mixture of tropical scents earth, fruit, and distant rain. She stopped, looking out over the land she had nurtured. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows.

Her phone buzzed again: a message from Aeron reminding her about graduation schedules. She smiled faintly, thinking of her children how far they had come. Eight years ago, they had fled Leyte, terrified and uncertain. Now, Vhenn was a college graduate, Deyr a dedicated student, and Vale a young woman full of promise.

Eryl allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability, closing her eyes. She thought of Leyte, of the night she ran with her children, of the blood-stained duster she had left behind. The memories still haunted her, but they no longer controlled her. She was free. And she had given freedom to her children.

Her reflection in the water canal showed a woman transformed. Strong. Independent. Unyielding.

Yet even in her sanctuary, reminders of the past crept in. A news headline about Rhaen’s family in the Philippines, a client asking if she had family there small things that made her heart tighten. She never shared these thoughts with her children.

He is out there, she thought quietly, but here we are safe, and I will keep it that way.

She turned back toward the plantation office, ready to tackle paperwork late into the night. She could never let her guard down completely not for herself...not for her children.

And in the quiet corners of her mind, she began planning: the graduation celebration, the future of her business, and the life they would all build in Singapore. Every choice was deliberate. Every action a step toward ensuring her family’s independence.

Eryl Saeve was no longer Lioren Aves-Dravos. She was more than a survivor. She was a mother, a leader, and a woman in control of her destiny.