Novel & Cerita After My Husband's First Love Died In An Avalanche

"You're a professional mountain climber, Elliana! Would it really kill you to not have an oxygen tank of your own? Olivia has always been sickly and fragile! She'll be doomed without oxygen! "Can you please stop being willful at a critical time like this? You should learn to care more about others!" After that, Gerard pushed me away. His cruel criticisms became his final words to me. I could only watch desperately as my own husband helped Olivia down the cliff. In a flash, I was the only one left on the mountain. The lack of oxygen and the harsh weather conditions tormented me to no end. That was why I chose to jump off the mountain. I'd rather go through a quick death than suffer from an ex

Deep down I knew I would only ever love one man, and I had zero intentions of putting another man through that kind of heartbreak. “I know that look, I had it too when my husband died, but then I met Jake.” Martha’s eyes twinkled and I leaned closer, eager to hear this love story. “He was involved in a terrible accident not long after and died- but the moral of the story is, I loved my husband and when he died I thought I would never love again.” Jace had died, but I didn’t love him so he didn’t count. “The man I love isn’t dead, and I know he’s going to come looking for me when he can.”

I caught the first note of my arousal in the air and tightened my hold on him, my nails sinking into the back of his neck. His groan wasn’t one of pain. “You are making this impossible, woman. I understand you want me, but could you for a moment, control yourself?” I died. That was it. I must have fallen during the Hunt and hit my head (likely the result of my weak ankles) and died. That was the only explanation for what my husband was saying to me right now in this current moment.

"He's going to get you killed. Can't you see that? He's dragged you into his war and you're going to die for it." "He's my husband!" I snap all of a sudden. How can she ask that of me? She knows how love feels, she has experienced it before. Her husband died two days after they got married. She grieved for him so much that she almost killed herself. Those days, I begged her to kill herself, but my pleas were not making sense to her. She just wanted to go and meet her husband. She knows how love feels, so why is she trying to make it look as if I am the bad person here?

Even after learning the truth, his first reaction when he saw me was still to beg for her. I opened my mouth, but it took me a moment to realize I was actually speaking. "Caleb, let's get a divorce." Caleb's eyes filled with tears. He grabbed my hand and shook it like he was desperate. "I misunderstood you, Jeanette. I was wrong. Can we not go through with it? I love you. I really do." I jerked my hand away and stepped back, locking eyes with him. "You don't love me, Caleb. You love Brianna. I'm holding you responsible for our kid, and she's on the hook for the arson, too."

Or would you prefer we finish what we started earlier? His sweetness was enough to pull a big smile on my face. It was crazy how five years ago, people had called him the fallen CEO. The one broken by Kayla Waters’ death. His first love. It was one of the many reasons why our families had struck an arrangement. I was only lucky to have had a crush on him for years but everything changed when we met for the first time. It was love at first sight. I had married a man who loved me. Through and through.

On the day my husband, Caleb Vale, laid his first love, Layla Shaw, to rest, he turned to me and flung our wedding ring into the sea. For the next 12 years, the breakfasts I brought him were tossed away untouched, and the scarf I painstakingly knitted through the night was thrown into the flames and burned to nothing. He was the cruelest when he looked me in the eye and said, "Aurora, if you really want me to be happy, you might as well go die."

The living fossil seemed to see a young woman in a white wedding dress walking toward him while letting out a peal of clear laughter. “I love you, Cindi Boye.” “My darling husband, I don’t despise you for being poor, nor will I look down on you for not having fame. I believe that one day, you’ll become the most famous doctor in the entire generation. “My husband, when I die, bury me in the back mountain of our house. I want to look at you every single day and protect you.” … Ultimately, he ended up being a wicked doctor. The living fossil remembered now. After going through all kinds of suffering in his life, there was indeed a bright and beautiful young woman who once brought a ray of light

When my father took my hand and gave me away to him, his eyes were rimmed deep with red. My mother sat in the audience, crying and laughing at once. Looking at him, I suddenly remembered how, years ago, I’d believed marriage was a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble. But only now did I understand. Real love doesn’t ask me to betray all of myself. And it doesn’t ask me to prove my sincerity through suffering. In the third year of our marriage, I gave birth to a daughter. The doctors said that, given the state of my body, conceiving again at all had been no small thing.

Now, here I was, heart lodged in my throat, terrified for the man whose emotional absence had nearly broken me. *Please be okay, Khalid. Please.* The image of him collapsing in our living room replayed relentlessly: the way his powerful frame had crumpled like paper, the tablet clattering, his face draining of color. Despite everything—the late nights, Natasha’s name on his lips, the hidden medication, the slow erosion of our marriage—I couldn’t stop the wave of terror. This was the husband I had once loved with every fiber of my being. The man who had swept me off my feet at that charity gala four years ago with his intensity and promises.