After My Husband's First Love Died In An Avalanche Novels & Stories

Carla sat in the middle of the unmade bed and I stood to the side giving her plenty of room to get all the food unloaded. We ate breakfast by sharing. I fed her and she fed me. We talked about our lives, our jobs, our likes, dislikes, and even talked a little about our ex's. She had been married for four years and had been a widow for four more years. He had died in Afghanistan in a plane crash. By her report she hadn't even been tempted to bed a man until about a month before we met. The wound to her heart had not been healed enough until after the fourth anniversary of his death.

My wife, Monica, hated the smell of alcohol, so I had never once seen her drink. Not even at the celebration for my succession as Don did she touch a single drop. That changed at a Family banquet, when a party game broke out halfway through. Monica lost. The penalty: sit on the lap of your one true love and share a lovers' toast. Without a second of hesitation, she picked up her glass, settled onto Dillon's lap, and drank it down. The room erupted in cheers, and every pair of eyes turned to me with the same expectation. They were waiting for me to flip the table and storm out. But I just watched Monica in silence, slid the ring off my finger, and placed a set of divorce papers in front of he

I swallowed hard and answered her question, “Ah, no, she isn’t. I was married to a strong fighter from my pack, you know, before. He was my first Mate and the only other one I’ve had”. Pain radiated through my chest as I spoke about my former love. Micha, my husband. His beautiful black hair and golden-brown eyes, the way his smile reached all the way to his eyes when he laughed. The memory of him was torture to my forever broken heart. “He was killed in the attack” Alyse interjected, gently placing her hand on my lower back.

With everything in place the next morning, I went live. I talked about how I paid off Hank’s debts, how we built RH’s Table together, our marriage, and his tragic passing on our wedding anniversary. By the end, I was inconsolable, my face pale. The public was touched by our love story. [It has been ten years since my first love got sick and passed away. I’m still not over it. It hurts when I think about it. I understand how she feels.]

How did I, a simple, low-paid social worker, get entangled with a rich CEO like Ivan? So many years have passed since then, but our story started long before that. He may not remember those days, but I do quite well. It's the whole reason I'm hopelessly devoted to Ivan Winters. Of course, I'm getting ahead of myself. This misfortune started over six years ago with a single mistake that changed our lives forever.

She scrambled out of bed and threw herself onto the floor, locking her arms around Chad's legs. "No! It's just because I love you too much! I was jealous that Caitlin got to have your baby! I couldn't control myself, Chad! Please forgive me just this once! You told me before that no matter what I did wrong, you'd always protect me!" Chad looked down at the woman he had favored for an entire year. A sudden wave of nausea hit him. For the sake of this lying murderer, he had stripped away any chance of survival for his wife and child.

If I had realized sooner that this marriage was a mistake and let him go, freeing both of us, maybe we could have gone back to the easy relationship we had as seatmates. But he had his convictions, and I had my stubbornness. In the end, he got what he fought for, while I had no choice but to let go. …… I waited, expecting Eve to send me photos of her and Zac’s wedding, but even as I took my last breath and my soul floated above my body, the message never came. I watched as the villagers and children gathered around my coffin, sobbing uncontrollably. I wanted so badly to tell them, "Don’t cry. I wasn’t going to live much longer anyway."

The party had just been a spark, and the tinder was a bunch of small details I was concerned about that led to the outburst. If I ever came across such news online, like in a previous news article where an 80-year-old man married his first love from decades ago after his wife's death, I wouldn't swoon over his devotion. If anything, I would gag in disgust. The fact that they married right away after the wife's death implied that they might have been in touch for decades. In Harvey's case, he didn't marry his first love, but he brought her child back instead. I quietly exited the group, and the messages roared on, even louder now that I was missing.

That man is a dog, I wished things could run faster, but I guess this is just the best, I will be so patient enough to see them going down slowly without knowing what struck them. I suffered for this man, I went through a lot because of him, I sacrificed myself just for his happiness. The love I gave him was raw and undiluted love, like a newly tapped wine, yet he had the effrontery to turn his back on me. He's gonna suffer because of this, and when he finally goes down, I will make sure that the Queen goes down with him, let her feel my pains. ****Flashback**** After my husband died, which was on on the 1st of September, 1996. I decided to avenge all those that had hands in his death.

"Abigail! Are you alright, Abigail?" I floated in the air as I watched my husband, Leon Cadwell, rush out of his office. I was in the same ambulance, but he didn't even spare a glance at me. He hurriedly helped his first love, Abigail Lynch, who was barely injured, into the emergency room. He looked panicked and confused at the same time. Meanwhile, the other doctors swiftly arranged for me to be sent to the ICU and pushed me into the operating room to save my life.