Five Years Of Marriage To Mr Bradford Novels & Stories

"I can handle myself, Dad." I would still hear about Lydia occasionally. She worked as a middle manager at a private company. The pay wasn't much, but it was far less stressful than her previous job. Simon remained unemployed after they got married. Their entire family lived paycheck to paycheck since Lydia was the sole breadwinner. Apparently, Lydia and Simon argued often about money, Lindsey, and all sorts of insignificant issues. Last year, George suffered a stroke, which left half of his body paralyzed. The conflict between Lydia and Simon escalated when she brought George home to stay with them.

A message popped up on the screen. "How does it feel to be the mistress, Ms. Bradford? You'll spend the rest of your life living in my shadow as the legal wife." Danielle Bradford's heart tightened in a suffocating grip. With trembling fingers, she looked at the clerk and whispered, "Could you please… check Matthew's marriage record as well?" The printer spat out a sheet of paper. It looked so light, yet holding it in her palm felt unbearably heavy. The record clearly listed Meghan Landry as Matthew's spouse, with a marriage date from seven years ago.

The lady looked up from her monitor, chewed her gum slowly, and repeated it without a shred of humor. “Congratulations, Mrs. Knight. It’s official.” No. No no no. “Knight?” I echoed, looking at the paper in her hand. She slid it toward me. Marriage Certificate. Arielle Marie Brooks… and… Xavier Luca Knight. My throat went dry. “I—I was just here to sign some school sponsorship forms for my aunt,” I stammered, already backing away. “This is a mistake. I didn't marry anyone. I didn't even see anyone!”

Then, I returned to the apartment I shared with him and spent an hour wiping every trace of me from the place. I had asked him time and time again to make our relationship public. In the nights when we lay entangled in each other's limbs, I would keep pressing him about the issue, but Ian always managed to placate me with some excuse or other. At first, I thought that he was holding back because of our dreams. However, when Katie reappeared in his life, he immediately introduced her to the rest of the team and even had them playfully call her "Mrs. Bradford". Then he registered their marriage together before celebrating with the rest of the team.

“Eva, you look thin. Mom and Dad have been worried. We supported you coming to Chicago, but isn’t it time you came home and settled down? They’ve already picked out some marriage candidates…” At the word “marriage,” Orion, who had been lazily smoking a cigar, suddenly stiffened and stubbed it out. He swirled his wine. Under the table, his foot found my calf, tracing lazy circles. A clear, possessive claim. But his words were casual. He feigned curiosity. “Eva, I’ve taken care of you for five years, and I still don’t know what kind of man you like. Tell me.” I’d always been the good, obedient girl.

The date glared up at her in black ink. December 15th, 2020. Five years ago. Her wedding day. The day she'd married Seris Ashford in a ceremony that had cost more than most people's houses and meant absolutely nothing to the groom. "Miss Winters?" "I'm fine," Silver called out, her voice steadier than she felt. "Give me a moment." She heard Marie's footsteps retreat and sank into the desk chair, her mind racing. This was insane. People didn't just wake up five years in the past. They didn't get do-overs. Death was final. The river had been real—she could still feel the ghost of that cold, the burn in her lungs, the moment her body had simply given up.

The dining room in the Bradley Manor was bathed in the cold glow of a massive crystal chandelier. I took a small mouthful of my oats porridge. Across from me, Caden Bradley methodically cut into the fried egg on his plate. The knife and fork scraped against porcelain in a steady, grating rhythm. For three years, this had been the extent of our marriage. Silence. The silence was stifling and heavy. I attempted to bridge the gap. Again and again, I reached out to him, only to be rebuffed with colder indifference and the slow death of my own hope.

At my wedding reception, one of Patricia Ferguson's friends suggests a party game to liven things up. She keeps the rhythm, then points at me. "What's something you see at a wedding?" I look at Patricia beside me and point to myself, beaming. "The groom." My friend, Gordon Palmer, shoots me a knowing look before saying with a smirk, "A pathetic bed warmer." I freeze. I'm about to demand an explanation when Patricia's older sister, Amelia Ferguson, gives me a pointed look and sneers. "The side piece." As the color drains from my face, Patricia gently pats my head. "The truth is, Marvin and I got married last year. If your mother hadn't begged me to take care of you before she died, I

I need to get hold of this situation before we can do any damage. “So,” my father started as he was sipping on his tea. I don’t know why my parents were trying to be sophisticated when we were not. I rolled my eyes before Brad cleared his throat. “We came here to tell you that we have been married for a month now,” Brad said as he squeezed my hands. I was looking at him before he continued. “I will not divorce her since she is the love of my life and I wanted to stay it that way. She’s more precious than any gem that I looked at,” Brad said before he turned to look at me. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

He could not help but let out a mischievous grin on his lips. "What's funny, Mr. Bradford?" "Nothing. If you have nothing else to say, can you listen to me now?" Mandy didn't respond, indicating that she would listen. She couldn't understand herself thinking that she was interested in what Andrew had to say. "Since we already settled about our son, let's talk about us." "There's nothing to talk about us." Mandy snorted. "There's a lot, Mandy. As you know, I still love you. Moreover, my marriage with Megan was fake. Thus, we're still married."