Book The Good Wife Novels & Stories

She was elegant, intelligent, intimidating, and perfectly capable of reducing powerful businessmen to nervous silence yet somehow, over the past four years, she had become one of the people I cared about most. She stepped back and looked at me carefully the smile faded slightly. "You look tired." I groaned. "Not you too." Her eyebrows lifted. "Who else has been saying it?" "Apparently everyone." Margaret's eyes flicked briefly toward Damien. "I'm not surprised." To my amusement, Damien immediately looked offended. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" "It means your wife looks exhausted." "My wife works too much." Margaret gave him a look. "You realize she's only working that much because

I flipped through the chat logs on the smartwatch of my brother-in-law, Adam Sorenson, my finger trembling slightly on the screen. It was no wonder he barely ate his dinner sometimes after coming home from school. I had assumed he just didn't like my cooking, but it turned out he was full because my wife, Queenie Sorenson, had bought him snacks ahead of time. I recalled how Adam came home excitedly holding a shopping bag last fall. He proudly held it out to me and said with a smile, "Queenie bought us gifts!"

Near the window, an elderly man carefully adjusted his wife’s scarf before returning to his meal. At another table, a young couple argued over who had forgotten to order drinks. Life moved around her. Dinner dates continued. Conversations continued. Laughter continued. Only her table remained untouched. The waiter returned. “Mrs. Whitmore, would you like us to prepare the meals to take home?” She looked at the food she had spent three days planning. Adrian’s favorite steak. The wine he preferred during celebrations. The chocolate cake they had shared on their wedding night because neither of them liked traditional wedding cake.

"It better be a self help book because that's what you need " "I married an asshole," she said simply. "Pardon?" "By Truve," she added. "What?" Rhoda glared at him. "That's the name of the book I'm reading," she said, obviously annoyed. So, he figured that to be a lie. "Wow! Congratulations. Just come out here. It's something important and urgent. You can go back to your fictional 'Asshole husband' later," he said and made his way into the living room on the second floor.

" Dear Beta Eden, I trust you are well. you may not remember our meeting so I will formally introduce myself again. I am Queen Audrey of the witches. I am the mate of your Alpha Benjamin. It may be hard to believe but certain events if you look back will prove that there is some truth to my words. I know my mate's disappearance has brought about a lot of confusion among your pack and might cause some rebellion among your members and if word of his disappearance was heard outside the pack it would bring war for a possible takeover. But do not fear, as your wife Mary would have already told you, I have cast a protection spell. you are all free to leave the boundary and walk back in as you wish

"Five years after the marriage, the young woman was beginning to become a woman, even if she did not allow her husband to join her. Becoming a woman was out of all options, there was no possibility of her doing something so vile and distasteful against herself. Francesca spent so much time looking for a way not to bow to that vile family from which her husband came, the young woman refused to become a woman under the protection of that blood that had never done anything to help her family. Months passed, until finally, through an oversight of her mother's maids, the young woman found an old but still well-preserved book on the table in the library of the mansion. The book was there, carefull

The packages were waiting outside my apartment door. I stopped, keys in hand, staring at them. Two large shopping bags with expensive boutique logos I recognized, and a beautiful arrangement that made my breath catch,a book bouquet. Actual books wrapped like flowers, their spines carefully arranged to create something both literary and romantic. A card was attached. For when you need an escape. And something to wear while you read them. - L My chest tightened. How had these gotten here before me? I’d left work twenty minutes ago, driven straight home, and yet…

“N-NO!” “You resist one more time, I’d have to cuff you, love.” My body stiffened as I angrily glared at him. He couldn’t be serious. But the swirls of eyes were more than serious. He’d cuff me rendering me helpless once again. My eyes reflected with intense fury and rage. Wife they call me and yet treat me like a whore. Use me whenever their heart desire. “I am your wife!” I cried angry tears rushing down my eyes. Ralph looked amused shaking his head. “Not a whore!”

She’d told me once, early in our marriage, that she found it tedious. But she’d done it anyway. For two years. And I’d never thanked her. Not once. I stood up abruptly. Grabbed my jacket. Why should I have thanked her? The thought came sharp and angry. She was my wife. That was her job. Cooking. Keeping the house. Being there when I needed her. That’s what wives did. I shoved my arms through the jacket sleeves. Except Aria hadn’t needed to do any of it. Aria was a fucking billionaire.

“Good book?” Vincent wrapped a hand around his wife’s foot, flopping lazily in the air. Laid on her stomach, chin in her fist, she hardly seemed pregnant. Though Vincent knew better. She had a smell about her, certainly something he’d conjured on his own. A sweet smell. Her hormones mixing with his. Her breasts bulging from her shirt. Skin soft and sticky much the same way well-rested dough was. “Alias Grace. Ironic, I know.” Blue closed the book. Peered over her shoulder. Kicked against his hand playfully.