Detachment Synonym

Arabella Hopkins has never known peace. Raised in a home of rejection and rivalry, she is forced into a marriage with Edward Hostings, a powerful and intimidating man whose indifference cuts deeper than cruelty. What begins as a cold union soon becomes a battlefield where Arabella must fight not only for love but for survival. As she struggles to adjust to her new life, old enemies resurface. Her father demands she claim control of the family company, her stepsister Lauren plots sabotage fueled by envy, and the media hounds her every move. When Edward falls into a coma, Arabella is left torn between loyalty to him and the overwhelming responsibility of protecting their unborn child. Loss after loss hardens her resolve. The death of her grandmother, the betrayal of her father, and constant public scrutiny transform Arabella from a submissive, wounded woman into a fierce strategist. Along the way, she discovers her strength as a mother, her voice as a leader, and her dignity as a wife. Yet even in the darkest moments, love refuses to die. Against kidnappings, betrayals, and crushing grief, Arabella and Edward’s relationship evolves—from icy detachment to fragile tenderness. Their story is one of survival, resilience, and a love that endures even when tested by unimaginable pain. Scorned Wife is a sweeping romantic drama filled with family intrigue, emotional intensity, and powerful themes of motherhood, betrayal, and redemption. It is a saga of transformation—of a woman who refuses to be broken, and of a marriage that, against all odds, finds a way to heal.

The company had just taken off when a project my wife, Lenora Peterson, was in charge of ran into trouble. To ease her mind during her pregnancy, I went overseas in her stead, spending ten perilous years abroad before finally returning home, barely alive. Instead of the joyful reunion I had imagined, she greeted me with cold detachment and thinly veiled disgust. "Why are you back?" Lenora asked. "Today is Nathan’s housewarming party," she added. "Let’s head there first—we’ll talk later." We rode in silence the entire way. When we arrived, a ten-year-old girl came dashing over and clung to Lenora affectionately. “Mommy, why did you take so long? Daddy’s been waiting for you forever!” Daddy? My eyes burned with rage—until I saw my old friend Nathan Grant stepping out to greet us with a smile. "Lily, come to Daddy. Mommy’s tired—don’t bother her now." When I met Lenora’s eyes, the guilt I saw there told me everything I needed to know. I turned away and texted my assistant, Morgan Williamson, to begin acquiring the company that, by right, had always belonged to me. He soon reported back. "Mr. Brooke, the acquisition process will be completed in three days."

So this is how the mate bond feels. A rush of energy, a pull like gravity tightening around us, and an almost maddening awareness of the other person. I wasn’t about to let it sway me though. Sure, the man in front of me is ridiculously perfect, but I wasn’t some love-struck fool who’d drop everything at the first spark of fate. I had a life, plans, and a fiancé waiting for me upstairs. I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to stay calm even as my heart raced. “Take a number and get in line, sweetheart,” I said coolly, flashing the engagement ring on my finger in front of his gray eyes. “I’m otherwise occupied right now.” …Five years later, when I pushed the door open, my mate remained motionless on a leather couch, his piercing gaze boring into me with a cold detachment that sent shivers down my spine. He leaned back, the casualness of the gesture at odds with the intensity in his eyes. His arms rested lazily on the backrest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His body was coiled tight, like a predator ready to pounce, and the air between us crackled with tension. “Is my number finally up?” he asks, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “My dear mate.” The words sting, but I can’t deny the truth in them. He is my last chance.

"You still smell the same… You must like this cologne that much." Alex whispered behind her ear, his warm breath sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "You don’t remember me," he murmurs, his fingers tilting her chin until their eyes locked. "But I never forgot you." Ariel’s breath hitches. His touch is hauntingly familiar. Then he leans in again, his voice a dark whisper. "I assumed only I could make you feel this way." Ariel Richmond’s life was shattered the night she was betrayed. Drugged by her fiancé and sister, she woke up to a reality she had never chosen—humiliated, abandoned, and unknowingly carrying the child of a stranger. Fleeing to Spain, she built a new life, determined to leave the past behind. Alexander Lucas never forgot her. The ruthless billionaire, known for his cold detachment, spent years searching for the woman who vanished after their one fateful night. Fate brings them back together in the cruelest way possible—Ariel, desperate to save her son, enters a contract marriage with Johny Lucas… only to discover that his stepbrother is Alexander. Now, trapped between the man who unknowingly changed her life and the husband she never wanted, Ariel must navigate a tangled web of secrets, power, and a past that refuses to stay buried.

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.