Drunk Wife Novels & Stories

She also reeked of alcohol, so they had obviously been drinking together. "Help me take him to his room," The lady was struggling to carry Jason up the stairs and into his room. I stood with my mouth open, and I didn't know when the plate of mango fruit I had in my hands fell off to the floor. How's it that Jason came home after three days, drunk and in another woman's arms? "Are you deaf?" She glared at me, and I could tell that she didn't know that I was Jason's wife. Her voice brought me out of my oblivion and I scurried to do her bidding. In fact, I didn't want her touching my husband, so I offered to take care of him and told her to leave.

Julien looked at her and replied. Sydney felt resigned. “Well, stroke it if you like. Tell me how Kaylie killed the old man’s wife.” “The old man’s wife couldn’t accept that her husband was going to divorce her. She found out about Kaylie and went to meet her in a rage. During the quarrel with Kaylie, she was pushed down the stairs by Kaylie accidentally and died on the spot.” “Yuck...” Sydney suddenly took a gasp. “The old man’s wife was too unfortunate!”

I kept waiting, and finally he spoke again. “Hmm… it’s because that woman is my girlfriend’s friend.” He still looked like he was struggling to say everything. “And I got carried away by what she said… so I ended up bringing her along…” “Don’t do it again. I’m really sick of things like that.” I took another sip of my drink, and when it was finished, he refilled it again. Right now, my mood had improved enough that we could talk normally like usual. But slowly, I felt like I might already be a little drunk. While playing with the glass in my hand, I spoke somewhat slurred.

The moment the last drop hit her throat, a soft murmur ripple­d across the hall. “Oh, God… how can he force his own wife to drink like this?” a woman whispered sharply from the left side of the crowd. Another voice followed, equally disgusted. “Apologizing for the mistress’ mistake? Is this what marriage is now?” “She’s drinking too much,” a third woman added. “What if something happens?” A man laughed lightly beside them, trying to downplay the tension. “Didn’t Mr. Cooper say her drinking tolerance is excellent? She will be fine.”

“I didn’t think you’d still be this shallow after so many years. You broke someone else’s marriage for money in the past. You have enough money now. Do you think you can really stop her from cheating on you?” Carlson gritted his teeth and wanted to slap me, but I blocked him. Instead, I slapped him repeatedly. Carlson yelled in pain. He wanted to fight me, but I subdued him. He had spent all these years living a good life. He was no longer the hardworking assistant he had been in the past. He could not even fight back, so he could only endure a few more slaps from me. “Don’t worry, I’m an educated man. I don’t want to be a homewrecker.

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.

Two days later, I was having a quiet dinner with my wife when my phone vibrated incessantly with calls from my friend. His voice was full of frustration, but he managed to calm himself before speaking. "Ross, I'll tell you the truth. That brother-in-law of yours is nothing but trouble. I gave him an assistant job, but he's acting like I've hired a goddamn king. He insisted I drive him to work, and when I didn't agree to it, he laid his hands on me. I'm done with him. You handle him however you want." Before I could even apologize, the line went dead.

Yet, when I poured all my love on Snow, she was busy giving her attention to another man. “Snow, are you really this naive? Yulan isn’t your ‘brother.’ He’s an adult man who’s interested in you. You really can’t tell? “Tell me, in the eight years that we’ve been together, have you ever done something as simple as washing my clothes? What you call a small favor looks very different from my perspective. My wife, in another man’s home, wearing only a camisole, does something so intimate for him that she’s never done for me. How’s that not crossing a line?”

Normally, seeing him like this would have made me laugh. Not now, though. Now, just a few weeks after our son’s funeral, seeing him get drunk in what looked to be a run-down bar bathroom just made my eyes mist over with tears. “Missing you,” the text read. “Call later?” My hand began to tremble as I looked down at the picture. Here I was, unable to even eat in my own home, and my husband was… out. Drinking. Drunk. With Dan, no doubt. Dan, who had sex with prostitutes while his own wife sat at home alone.

Smile thin as a blade. “Lucas Harrington,” he greeted smoothly. “You look well.” Lucas didn’t return the smile. “Adrian Cole.” Amara felt the tension shift instantly. This was no rumor. This was history. Adrian’s gaze moved to her. Assessing. Calculating. “So this is the wife,” he said. “You do have a talent for unexpected decisions.” “Say what you want and leave her out of it,” Lucas said coldly. Adrian chuckled. “You always did overestimate your control.”