Dan Salinger Wife Novels & Stories

I said calmly, “You are Stacy. My wife died long ago. You even handled the cremation yourself.” She stared at me in disbelief. “How can you not recognize me? I am Wendy. Stacy is the one who died!” Hearing that made my heart sink even deeper. So, she knew everything, yet she chose to pretend and watched me become a widower. I said coldly, “How could I fail to recognize my own wife? You’re not her. No matter how alike you look, you are not the same person. She is gone. Why are you using her name to commit atrocities?”

Her slacks were a bit tight so I got a good perspective of the shape of her ass. We chit-chatted for a few moments. I learned that Sarah and my wife had been close a few years earlier. They had worked together in a restaurant or something while in school. My wife and I married in our late-twenties and I didn’t know many of her friends from her earlier years. She is a bookkeeper for a local plumbing company.

Getting back into my wedding dress was out of the question. I hesitantly tied it around myself as I bit down on my bottom lip nervously as I tied the towel around my chest. After more long minutes of me trying to calm my erratic heartbeat down, I finally made my way out of the bathroom, because I knew I couldn’t stay in there forever. The door closed a little bit loudly behind me and I jolted a little. I glanced around the bedroom and gasped shakily as my eyes landed on the devil himself. My heart was back to being lodged stiffly in my throat as I blinked at my new husband, Damien.

My cheeks flamed as I slowly shook my head trying to get the image out of my head. Not being able to sleep, I scrolled through social media, aimlessly flipping through posts and photos, trying to distract myself from thinking about Liam and push the lingering fear of the nightmare away. As I scrolled through social media, mindlessly flicking past pictures and videos, something made me stop. A blog post caught my eye, the headline jumping out at me like a slap: Dan Sullivan’s Annual Company Luncheon: A Resounding Success. But Where Was His Wife, Amber? My stomach twisted as I clicked on the link, curiosity and dread swirling together. The article was filled with glowing remarks about the even

I replied, returning her smile. The other woman walked over to us and said, “Sally, we still have a few places to go.” She said that and then looked at me. “Who is this?” the woman asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice. This is the woman I saw at the diner and at the club. This is my boss's wife? “This is April,” Sally replied, her gaze never leaving mine. “I’m sorry for walking up to you like this. It’s just that you seemed so familiar.” Sally smiled as she looked at me.

She kept those promises, but with someone else. I grabbed a pair of scissors. Without hesitation, I cut the photo in half and carefully packed my half away. Since I was leaving, I wasn't going to leave even the smallest trace of myself behind. Once everything was done, I placed the signed separation agreement right on the coffee table. We never registered our marriage, but with all our finances mixed together over the years, it felt right to leave something in writing. I picked up my luggage and walked out the door without a single glance back.

"A serial killer whose father was a high-ranking government official. Still is, actually. He drummed up some false accusations and Sal ended up in jail until her lawyers and the paper could sort it out. She was completely cleared and even celebrated." "Then what was the problem?" I asked. "The problem was that her husband had been ill, and while she was in jail he passed away. She never got to say goodbye, and in fact, the city made it worse and swooped in and buried him in a place different than what they'd wanted." Charles looked somber. "Sal never got over it, she loved him so much. An A+ couple, from what I understand." I was stunned. "It was in the papers," Charles continued. "She was a

Each trip left expense records, each one included transfers to James. Serena and I got married six years ago. Ethan turned five this year, and Noah six. While I had thought we were building a future together, she had long since built another family. The phone vibrated again. Liam sent another message: [There’s one more thing, Mr. Drake. The night you had your heart surgery, Ms. Serena was with James for his birthday.] … I stared at the words, and the world around me fell silent. I remembered every detail of that night.

A week ago, the news broke that I'd filed a lawsuit against my wife of more than 20 years, Hazel Cooper, the woman who had shared my bed and my life for over half my adulthood. From that moment on, I became the neighborhood's favorite villain. Everyone called me the heartless man who had climbed his way to success and abandoned his wife and child without remorse. In their eyes, Hazel was flawless. She'd married me when I was poor and struggling. She never complained, even when life was hard. She cared for my sickly mother until her final days. She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about.