Where Can I Read 'My Husband Is Sick' Online?

"I've been looking forward to this for so long..." Under the cloak of night, I had little choice but to suffer his advances. The advances of my husband. After a night of overindulgence, where I was barely in control of my senses, I slept with him, and things snowballed from there. I had no choice but to marry him and let this stone-broke man come and mooch off my wealth. I made sure to let him see my resentment; I insulted him, belittled him, took out each and every frustration on him. But he never lost his cool. He just sat there and took it, like a meek little lamb. That is, until I started to fall for him. That's when he said he wanted a divorce. Suddenly, my meek little lamb had turned into a snarling wolf. Overnight, my family fortune evaporated, while he had been secretly building his own. Out of nowhere, I was forced to rely on the very man I had looked down on with such contempt.

Being a Cinderella, I was forced to marry a rich man who was crippled. But I was shocked when I met him. He made me realize that I deserved nothing but him. Now I don't care about his health situation. All I want is him by my side. That's all, I felt when I fall in love with him slowly, desperately and hopelessly. Until on the honeymoon, I finally found out, my husband who loves me dearly , met his first love who supposed to be dead. Will he leave me for her?

Suzie Bei was a hard-working woman struggling to make ends meet. One day, her so-called father showed up and told her she was a member of the wealthy Thomson family. The Thomson family accepted her with open arms and treated her well- for two months. Before suddenly throwing a bomb at her that she had an arranged marriage to the Albrecht family's eldest son- who was said to be disabled and comatose. Being scammed into this family and this marriage, Suzie had no choice but to care for this comatose husband. She thought she would just take care of this comatose husband until the other party breathed his last, and thus she would be free. But who would have thought that her comatose husband would wake up?

My husband was in the late stages of liver cancer. Afraid of dragging me down, he committed suicide by jumping into the river. I couldn’t swim, but I dove in after him without hesitation. To give him the will to live on, I told him about winning the lottery. He pretended to struggle but took the chance to shove me underwater, drowning me. Before I could rest in peace, he ran off abroad with his first love using my money. Only then did I realize that he had planned to fake his death all along just to get rid of me! When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he jumped into the river. You wanted to die, huh? Well, let me help you with that!

To help my husband, Henry Carter, pay off a million-dollar debt, I clean windows and scrub toilets in an office building on Valentine's Day just for the triple pay. After I'm done with the windows, I am about to transfer the last 50 thousand dollars of the debt when a post suddenly pops up on my phone. The title of the post is, "What is something you see in real life that makes you feel sorry for someone, even if they are your enemy?" One of the top comments says, "The person I hate the most is my boyfriend's wife. My boyfriend pretends to be poor to spend money on me and cheats his wife out of over a million. That woman works day and night at a cleaning company just to make money for me! "This has gone on for eight years. That woman has been scrubbing toilets for eight years! Even if she is my enemy, I feel sorry for her." I freeze, and my fingers tremble uncontrollably. No way. It has to be a coincidence. I stare at those words, stunned and unable to recover from the shock. Then, a new comment appears, "Now, my boyfriend plans to fake an illness by telling his wife that he has cancer. He's going to trick her into giving him money to buy me a car." At that exact moment, Henry sends me a message. The instant I open it, I feel my heart skip a beat. It reads, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sick—I have cancer. The doctor says we need to prepare 80 thousand dollars for treatment. I hate myself for this. Why am I even alive? I'm just dragging you down with me." The words "late-stage liver cancer" in the attached diagnosis report are painful to look at. I think in dismay, "Henry, you do not need to pretend to be sick. You are indeed in the late stage of cancer."

My husband, once a powerful CEO, had become bankrupt and sank into depression. Overnight, I went from being the wife of a CEO to a lowly worker. To help him pay off his debts and cover the costs of his depression treatment, I took a job as a hostess at an auction house. However, I never expected to see my husband there, who should've been in the hospital undergoing therapy, sitting in the VIP section. Without any hesitation, he bid on an exorbitantly priced necklace and gave it to the woman beside him. That necklace—the one I had pawned to pay off his debts—was my grandmother's heirloom.