Discarded Housewife Novels & Stories

she asked, “where was Mrs. Dhark living?” “In the house.” “And how was she treated?” “She was…” Camilla trailer. “She was pushed aside.” I felt my throat tighten. “She was given chores,” Camilla continued quietly. “Tasks she had never been asked to do before.” Margot nodded slowly. “You’re referring to the events that were photographed at the Dhark residence?” “Yes.” Those pictures had been everywhere. The entire world had seen them. Me carrying trays through my own house like a maid, while Lucian and Eva greeted guests.

She simply stood there, allowing herself to acknowledge the end of a marriage that had once been the centre of her world. Then she turned off the office lights and picked up her handbag. Tomorrow would bring more work. There would be decisions to make, goals to pursue, and responsibilities waiting for her. And none of them required her to be Victor Hale's wife. For the first time, Sophia was no longer trying to rebuild the life she had lost. She was building a new one.

"The truth is... the paperwork concerning my divorce was never actually finished." Roman blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What? After seven years?" I nodded, "We just signed the divorce decree, and there was no court hearing. I walked out of that house focused entirely on survival," I explained, my voice dropping to a quiet whisper as memories I had tried to bury threatened to surface. "I changed my number, moved across the state, and threw every ounce of my energy into the twins and starting this company.”

"Meals are prepared at set times. If you are not here when food is served, you can ask the kitchen staff yourself." "I can cook my own food," Claire said. "You do not have to worry about feeding me like I am a guest." "You are not a guest," Nathan said flatly. "You are my wife on paper. There is a difference." Claire felt her jaw tighten, but she kept her voice even. "Then as your wife on paper, can I ask what my role actually is in this house? Because right now it feels like I am just supposed to disappear." Nathan finally set his tablet down and looked directly at her.

The whole scene was almost comical in its desperation. Memories stirred. After the children were born, Naomi had lived as a full-time housewife. She prepared every meal and waited for Ethan to come home, managing the household with meticulous care, as if she were waiting on a king. At the time she had believed it was happiness. In reality it had only taught them that her labor was their due. Now that she was gone, they suddenly discovered arms of their own? A thin, ironic smile touched her mouth. She looked away. “Fine. One meal.”

I was already plating the scrambled eggs when I heard their voices. “Ugh, look at her,” Clarissa’s voice came through the kitchen entrance. She was the eldest of Dyson’s sisters, and by far the cruelest. “Still pretending to be useful even when she looks like a whale.” Denise laughed, leaning against the marble island. “Pregnancy really ruined her, didn’t it? She used to at least be tolerable to look at. Now she’s just… pathetic.”

She was watching the event from the hospital, where Declan had been admitted. He'd been involved in an accident that morning, and she'd been told to wait at the reception. Her eyes remained wide with disbelief. Tessa, the Best Model of the Year in Los Angeles. "Mrs. Hudson, the doctor would like to speak with you," a nurse called from behind her. "Nurse, tell me this isn't true. She's the Best Model of the Year? Her?" Sophia asked. "Ma'am, she deserves the award," the nurse replied with a faint smile. "But what matters more right now—your husband's life or her success?”

For three years, Margot Fairley was the wife nobody saw. Rhys Calloway married her on his grandfather's orders and spent the marriage waiting for Vivienne Sutter, the actress he believed saved his life. Then, at the old man's eightieth birthday gala, Edmund Calloway collapses after drinking the tea Margot made him. An empty pill vial turns up in her purse. Rhys doesn't ask for her side. He hands her divorce papers. She signs them the same morning she learns she is pregnant. Then she disappears. Five years later, Bramport's best hospital needs the surgeon who invented a heart repair nobody else can perform. When Dr. Margot Fairley walks into the consult room, Rhys finally looks at her—and

"The pans are the wrong way round. Where is your kettle? You haven't been drinking proper tea, I can tell." "I've been drinking ginger." "That's not proper tea, madam." "It's what the doctor said." "The doctor is lovely. And she is not here." She filled the kettle, then paused with her hand on the tap, and her shoulders began to shake. "Mrs. Hale?" "I thought I'd be frightened," she said, thickly. "Out of work. At my age. I've nowhere to go, madam. My daughter is in Leeds with three boys of her own, and I did not want to be a burden." She wiped her face with a dish towel. "And then you said, *You come to me.* And I realised I hadn't been frightened of losing the job. I'd been frightened of l

Happy Abi had lent me one of her's as I didn't have anything to change into once I was discharged from the hospital. The knock sounded off again and I realized I had not told the person to come in. "Come in." My voice shook. I was spooked to be in a new environment. It opened revealing a woman. It was Catalina the housekeeper. Looking at her now, I discovered she could never have been Alex's wife. I imagined his wife to be young, tall and elegant. Catalina was short and plump. She was also an older woman, probably in her late forties.