Dream Of Ex Husband Meaning Novels & Stories

His gaze drifts to the pond, to the koi fish gliding beneath the surface, like he’s been pulled into a memory he didn’t ask for. For a second, I think he’s thinking about Chloe. How could he not? He built this place for her… But then a thought strikes me. Would he really be thinking about his wife while sitting here with me? His ex. Do I even count as an ex? Or was I just his emotional support sponge back then? Something to lean on while Chloe had broken up with him, something disposable once she came back? The thought stings more than I expect. It’s a possibility I’ve turned over in my head for years. Every time I did, I came to the same conclusion: that I never meant to him what he meant t

objected Vania. "Enough of this stupid bullshit," cried his father. "Kalvin will marry you." he added Kalvin looked like a player sure to win his game. "Listen my daughter," Kalvin's father cut in, "I understand that at your age you can still dream of a romantic love. We've all been there. But often the people we love passionately are not the ones who ended up with at the end of the book. Such is life. This marriage will not be just a simple union of families but the beginning of a new era for your father's career. So if you have love for your father you better resign yourself to this marriage." he said

He shouldn't have said that. “Daddy, what are exes?” Nevaeh, who just picked up the word from their conversation, asked curiously while looking at her father. Rayan paused while thinking of the right words to explain to Nevaeh. He glanced at Anthea, who was completely silent. He took a long breath before speaking. “It means two people who love each other but can't make it work and end up getting separated,” Rayan explained briefly while his eyes fixed on Anthea. She was looking down at the plates in front of her as if they were the most interesting thing in the whole world.

“I don't think anyone has experienced such emotions as I do. I literally have vivid dreams of me digging my hands into his chest, and plucking his heart out. It's getting too realistic. Sometimes, they're not even dreams. They're like visions.” “Do you have imaginations of murdering numerous people, or just one person?” She asked, Her seemingly feeble hands rubbed her knee. “I am experiencing some knee pains.” She explained, I nodded. “Sorry.” “Thank you.” “So, go on.” She nudged, “Most of the time, I dream of my husband. Soon to be my ex husband.” “Is there any reason you'd want to murder him?” “ A lot of reasons actually.” “Indulge me.”

His words echoed in my mind, and I still was clueless about his motive behind marrying me. I lay my tired head on the headrest and closed my eyes. The day’s exhaustion got me, and I fell into a blissful sleep. But it was a temporary moment of bliss because my hot husband followed me into my dream. He appeared in my dream from nowhere and picked me up in his arms. I snuggled into his bare torso and moisture pooled between my legs when my body touched his. He lay me down in heaven and pulled me closer to his warm body. I inhaled his addictive scent, wanting to lick every inch of his body. How had I become such a needy bitch in my dreams? I thrashed to get free and escape from my dreams.

“Yeah, because I knew you were still in grief,” “Grief?” I stared at him incredulously. “Well, I'm done grieving, and I'm serious about the divorce. You are unbelievable, Armstrong, our son died yesterday, and you never called me or came to check on me. You are here shagging this bitch, you should be ashamed of yourself,” my voice dripped with disgust. “Don't ever call her a bitch, OK?” he spat, his eyes flashed with anger. I sniffed, nodded my head repeatedly in shock and disbelief.

On the seventh year after the breakup, I receive a package from Clarence Fraser. All 44 pounds of said package consist of the stacks of chat history I have with him in the past. Soon, Clarence's text appears on my phone screen. "Wanna meet up? I'd like to tell you something." I pause momentarily before responding with a "1". That number signifies rejection. Then, I turn my phone off. After wiping my sweat off with a towel, I pick up another crate of fruits and continue promoting them to the customers loudly, as though nothing has happened. It's been so many years, and I don't know why Clarence decides to text me all of a sudden. Similarly, he doesn't know that I've already become so

“I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have treated you like that! I shouldn’t have said those awful things! I’m begging you. Don’t say that…” When he looked up at me, his eyes were teary, and his lips were trembling. “I’m not sure if I’ve gone insane, but I’ve been having the same dream over and over again lately. In my dream, we have a daughter…” I was so taken aback that I forgot to free myself from his arms. I just stared at him in shock. In my previous life, we had indeed shared a daughter. But she died before she even opened her eyes. “In my dream, we got married and lived happily. Our daughter was so small and soft. She had your eyes. When she smiled, she had dimples…” he murmured.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I laughed. "What else do you think it means? I never planned to remarry you." He did not believe me. "You may say that, but what your action says otherwise. Even though you showed up late, you’re still here, aren’t you? Relax. I gave you my word that we would wed again, provided you remember your role." I rolled my eyes so hard they practically reached the back of my skull. In the few years since we last met, his narcissism had intensified.