Discarded Housewife Novels & Stories

Old lady said Dulce couldn't face all her friends for embarrassment she just crossed her arms into her chest, looking at Jate frowning. Then Jate made his moves to save his mother in law some face. "Yes. I admit that I'm a house husband, but I'm more reliable on doing house hold. I'm proud of it! So if you guys talk nonsense again I will just ignore you!" He said. He want to beat them badly, bad he satyed humble in frint of every one. "You." The old lady blurted. "The fact is a fact! Your just a good for nothing piece of trash!"

It isn't locked. Of course! Her husband was a free spirit who hardly cared about his life. Sleeping in a stranger's house was bad enough. Mrs Contreras opened the door and crept in. Her husband was sadly snoring away. It's 6 for goodness sake. She ruffled her husband badly to get him up as quick as she could. There was no time to waste if Ema ever had a past here, it was foolish to keep staying anywhere that could trigger back her lost memories.

If Daniel hadn't been by her side, her distressed state might have been no better than Delilah's. Wilfred clenched his fists, looking emotionless. "That's how it is!" Cindy wiped her tears, trying hard to keep her voice steady. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm an uneducated housewife. My husband was just an ordinary driver for the Newhouses... We were both manipulated by Mrs. Newhouses!

Once, I was brainwashed into believing my sole purpose was to be a dutiful housewife and mother. But after losing my parents and husband, I had no choice but to shoulder the burden of the company. Thus, 20 years as its leader made picking it up again effortless. The next day, I left the hospital with my baby in my arms, only to see Doris with a sour expression. She berated, "Are you seriously throwing a tantrum because I asked you to wash some dishes? God knows if you were having a secret affair! I wouldn't want a daughter-in-law like you!"

"You're roaming around this house like you own the place, like you're some kind of queen. Newsflash, sweetheart: you're not. You're just a...a...nobody. A pathetic little wife who can't even begin to understand the intricacies of our family's business dealings." Aria took a step closer, her voice dripping with malice. "You're nothing but a mere accessory to Adrian, a man who's far too good for you. And don't even get me started on your family. Your father is a laughingstock, and your sister...well, she's just a manipulative little snake. You're all just a bunch of users, leeching off of Adrian's wealth and influence." Her eyes raked over my outfit, her expression twisting in contempt. "Look

Rachel point of view: I wonder when I lost myself, maybe it was when I married my husband Simon or was it when I agreed to be a housewife. Being a housewife wasn't a bad idea , you can take care of your home and kids as long as your husband can pay the bills, but being a housewife and being insulted each day left a bitter taste in my mouth and I knew I needed to end this. Simon asked me to get him.a glass of water and I as the dutiful and jobless wife as he calls me walked out of the room to downstairs and filled up the glass cup.

Despite his status as a low-ranked wolf, his influence is felt far and wide, a testament to his integrity and the trust the community places in him. Mrs. Jackie Robinson, in contrast, finds fulfillment in the simple, yet profound, role of a full-time housewife. Her days are spent tending to the needs of her family, ensuring that her home remains a sanctuary for those she loves. With a keen eye for detail, she maintains the cottage in pristine condition, every corner reflecting her care and devotion. Her greatest desire is to see her family thrive, and she spares no effort in creating a loving and nurturing environment.

She even mentioned that Elizabeth would soon stop working and return to her hometown to give birth. The woman had witnessed everything with a sense of pity. The way they treated Elizabeth felt cold and devoid of empathy, as though the suffering of the young woman meant nothing at all. Martin did not answer the question. “The lady of the house once said,” the woman continued softly, “that once Mr. Martin’s first wife arrives, I will be dismissed.” She smiled faintly, the smile of someone who had long come to terms with loss. “It is all right, Sir. I am old now. I am no longer able to clean a house this large on my own.”

She couldn’t help but wonder how many unspoken histories were buried in this family — and how many were about to surface. The castle grew taller, Rachel squealing each time the tide kissed the base. To passersby, they looked like a picture-perfect family sharing a simple joy. But under the hum of the waves, the truth pressed heavy — one man’s longing, one woman’s refusal, and a child unknowingly stitching them together in ways neither could escape. The waves had begun to calm, rolling gently as if the ocean itself wanted to listen. Francesca spread out the cooler’s contents onto the mat — fried rice, grilled chicken wings, plantain, and bottles of malt sweating in the sun.

I pulled out my phone immediately to book a cleaning service. "You can't throw these away! That's all money!" Mrs. Hearth rushed over to stop me. Calvin stopped her and said, "She's Mr. Sheraton's daughter. Her dad could easily bankrupt me if you upset her. We'd have to sell this villa to pay off debts, and then you can spend the rest of your life collecting junk!" The cleaning crew arrived quickly and even brought a truck. The whole team worked tirelessly, and by the end of the day, every pile of junk in the house was gone.