Forgotten Wife Novels & Stories

“The woman? She’s not on any employee records. Apparently, she rents a room upstairs and works part-time managing the register. Paid under the table.” He turned to her now. “Name?” Amanda hesitated. “I asked the shop owner. She said the woman goes by Lena Hart.” The name dropped like ice water down his spine. Dominic sat up straighter. “Say that again.” “Lena Hart,” Amanda repeated. “Why?” His mind went blank for a split second. No. It can’t be. “She was my wife,” he said flatly. Amanda’s jaw dropped. “Wait—that’s Lena Hart? The one from the contract marriage thing?”

Questions. But one thing was certain. I would not walk into that room as the forgotten wife. And judging by the way he had looked at me that morning… He knew it too.

"You're playing the victim so well. Making everyone feel sorry for you. Poor Grace with her amnesia. Poor Grace who can't remember anything." "I'm not playing anything! I'm scared! I'm trying to remember who I am!" "Then let me help you remember." Mason grabbed her face. Forced her to look at him. "I'm Mason Hartwell. Your husband. We've been married seven years. SEVEN YEARS. And you're telling me you just forgot all of it?" "I... I don't know. Maybe. The doctor said—" "I don't care what the doctor said!" His grip tightened. "You're MY wife. Mine. Not Aiden's. MINE."

He is devouring her, taking every single inch of her, and she loves it. "Fuck," a ragged, guttural growl rips violently from my throat as I squeeze my eyes shut, violently shaking my head to shatter the image, but the poison is already deep in my marrow. I suddenly picture them on the thick living room carpet. I picture them tangled together on the sofa. I even picture them on the goddamn glass coffee table. Everywhere I look, my cousin's ghost is touching my wife… I mean ex-wife.

Adrian was behind her, one hand gripping her hip, the other squeezing her breast, his face twisted in pleasure. "Fuck," he groaned. "God, I love your tits. So much better than—" "Shut up," Maribel hissed, cutting him off. "Don't wake her." But Adrian kept going, kept squeezing, kept moving, and I watched from the shadows of the balcony as my fiancé fucked my best friend on the couch where we watched movies together. The scene was familiar. Horribly, devastatingly familiar. Like déjà vu, except I knew exactly why. I'd walked in on this before. In my first life, at the estate, the positions were different. The location was different.

The woman from the hidden cell comes over to the bench with Eliza helping her to walk. “Fuck you, Syd. You kept me in that room for three days now. Did you forget? Hmm? Again?” Again? Was this a regular thing? He frowns then his eyes clear, and he nods sadly, “Gods, you’re so stupid. He pushes the bookcase over, then forgets the door is even there. I’m his wife, and I’m the stupid one for marrying him in the first place. You can imprison me or whatever. I’m done, we’re getting divorced as soon as I figure out how to do that from prison.”

My fingertips hover above her cheek as I remember summer nights when touching her wasn’t complicated by years of bitterness. Five years ago, her brother stole everything from me—my business, my reputation, nearly my life. Tonight, fate delivered his most precious possession directly into my hands. Complete amnesia. The words echo through my mind and settle like foundation stones beneath a plan that forms with each passing second. “If you don’t remember who you are,” I whisper to her sleeping form, “then I’ll tell you exactly who you need to be.” A wedding ring sits heavy in my pocket—a prop from an undercover operation last year that I had Mateo fetch. Perfect for convincing a woman with no

She says curiously. “I don’t think they could if they wanted to. I’ve been spelled. This bracelet is a protection charm.” he flashes a bracelet hidden by magic. “Can I see that?” She asks “I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that” she says. “Sorry” he shakes his head no. “That's all I got of her” he sighs before getting up. “Leaving again?” She asks playing with his glass of wine before chugging it. “Yeah, I'm gonna try to find some research on spells for memory. Hell maybe I’ll even find a witch who can actually do it” his words cut through her like a knife. So bitter yet so sweet. What made him so heartless she thinks to herself.

Upon learning that I had changed my name, he did a little digging and found out the truth about college. Someone blew the whistle on Tanner. The school expelled him. The administration hoped to bring me back, but once they heard that I had ended my life, the matter was dropped. Wandering in the big city with no purpose in life, Tanner spiraled hard into gambling. By the time I drifted back to Jean’s side, she was having poker night with her girls, chatting between hands. The conversations among the village women often revolved around three topics. Husbands, children, and the land were the only things they knew.

The world around me had lost its vibrancy, and the once-familiar paths felt shrouded in shadows. As I moved through the days, a deep sense of emptiness settled within me. The echoes of her laughter, the warmth of her touch, and the light in her eyes all seemed like distant memories that I had foolishly let slip away. The realization of what I had sacrificed was a constant ache in my chest, a reminder of the love that had been squandered.