A Wife Wafted Away Novels & Stories

He clicked his tongue in irritation as he opened it, ready to snap at his aide for making noise and waking the baby, but the words died before they formed. “Captain, something’s wrong…” Daniel frowned. “What’s the rush? Speak clearly.” “S-she’s gone… your wife… she’s gone…” The aide’s voice shook, on the verge of breaking. “There’s no sign of her at the burial ground… just blood everywhere… bones…” His words tumbled over each other. “She… she was eaten by the dogs.”

“My wife died at Halcyon Quay.” Daphne swallowed. “I am sorry.” “No,” he replied. “You are not. Not yet.” The words were not cruel. They were honest. He held out a photograph of a smiling woman standing on a balcony, her hair caught in the wind. “Her name was Ada,” he said. “She had just moved into the building. We were supposed to have dinner that night.” Daphne looked at the photograph. “I did not know her,” she said quietly. “But I want to know what happened.”

Lillian’s games had escalated. She whispered rumors, planted subtle lies, and manipulated every situation to make Elara look incompetent, or even jealous. When Adrian was away, Lillian acted high and mighty, pressing Elara into uncomfortable positions. She twisted words, pretending to be offended or humiliated, making Adrian angrier with his wife. It didn’t take long for whispers to spread. Social circles, the hospital staff, even social media picked up the tension. People began talking: The Wolfe heir humiliates his wife. Divorce rumors swirl.

She smiles. Edward’s wife gives her a smile so sweet that it could give cavities. “Be careful, especially with who you surround yourself with. Goodbye Mrs Shaw.” Then she walks away, her husband following in tow after with a wave to them. “Enough ladies, let’s go home now.” Noah calls out from the side.

Without a word, my mother, Jane, set her wine glass down with a sharp clink. My father, Robert, sneered and dabbed the corners of his mouth with quiet elegance. “Catherine, that’s an interesting way to put in. Since when does putting on a show mean dragging her husband’s dignity through the mud? Haven’t you seen the entertainment headlines recently? “We haven’t exactly come out of this unscathed, have we? “She even skipped this meal and had dinner with a young actor. Who is she trying to embarrass?” Catherine’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

“You made choices.” Silence exploded between us instantly. I stared at her stubbornly while anger and desperation clawed violently through my mind. “Whatever happens, you’re still my wife.” Evelyn looked at me quietly for several long seconds afterward. Something inside her eyes finally shattered completely. “No,” she whispered softly. “I stopped being your wife the moment you touched another woman.” My jaw tightened immediately. “She means nothing compared to you.” Evelyn laughed again. Unfortunately, this time the sound felt painfully empty.

Vanessa laughed, short and cold. "Oh, I plan to. I am just letting you know now so there is no confusion later. This marriage is a business transaction. Nothing more. I do not know what your father did to get you into this house, but do not make the mistake of thinking you actually belong here." "I never said I belonged here," Claire said quietly. "Good," Vanessa said, stepping closer. "Because the moment this debt is settled properly, you will be gone, and things will go back to the way they are supposed to be."

Cheers erupted all around them, loud and jubilant. But against that fiery celebration, I felt nothing but an icy chill seep into my bones. Three months ago, she had worn the same pure white wedding dress, standing before the priest, swearing that I was the only man in her life. Three months later, she had become someone else's wife. Rage drowned out reason. I shoved away the foot still pressing down on me and staggered to my feet, rushing toward them. My eyes burned red as I demanded hoarsely, "Portia, what the hell is going on?!"

The door closed after Leonard Ashcroft left. His footsteps slowly faded down the hospital corridor. And with those footsteps— Something inside Arabella died as well. She remained sitting weakly on the bed. Her hands still hadn’t fully recovered after signing the divorce papers only minutes earlier. So easy. Three years of marriage ended with nothing more than a few sheets of paper. Arabella slowly closed her eyes. Her chest felt hollow. Even tears were becoming difficult to shed. A soft knock sounded at the door.

“You do know he’s aboard, don’t you? Well, he’ll be charmed to see you again, of course, though I’m certain devastated to meet the man who stole you away from him. Not that I can blame you—Andrew’s a fine looking man, of course, but nothing quite like this one.” Looping her arm through mine, Alva hooks Juliet with the other and tugs us along the deck to walk again, but she’s heavily listing my direction, more than once brushing my hip or leg with hers. “Stole her away from him?” I prompt. “Why yes.” Alva glances with amusement between us, and on her opposite side, I see my wife staring directly ahead blankly.