Future Husband Novels & Stories

"Then what you're experiencing can't be love. It's not even obsession...if it were true obsession, you wouldn't even consider letting her go. What you have is infatuation. Fantasy. You don't know what she looks like, so there's a possibility that when she reveals her face, you may not even feel anything for her." He sat back. "But you know everything about your wife, don't you? Let's try this. Close your eyes and imagine your future. In the next ten or fifteen years, who do you see yourself with? Who do you see as your partner?" I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it. The future. A home. Children, maybe. Growing old. And in every image, there was only one person beside me. I opened my eyes

"Everyone, I would like to thank all of you for attending my Uncle's birthday. My name is Cindy and I am the future wife of the man standing next to me. I come from a wealthy family and I would like to share that I am beyond excited to be married to someone I love so much. So as the future Luna of the pack, I am going to do my best to support my husband whom I adore and love so much. Also, I have a lot of future projects for you as well. After all, we all want to have a better future and for me, I am going to do my best to help however I can. That's all, thank you so much." Everyone cheers and then my father suddenly speaks up again. "There is one thing you have to do... both of you..."

“You’re still a retarded woman until now.” “And you’re still a pervert.” I hissed. “W-What did you just say?! I’m a what?!” “A pervert!” I said, boldly. “How can you say that to your future husband? Do you want me to really show you what a real pervert does? Huh?” he said teasingly. That stopped me. I looked at him again, “W-What did you say? F-Future husband? But you— “Yes, I already have a girlfriend. And she’s standing in front of me now.”

"You know I can read your mind right?" He sighs. "I know." He says playing with my fingers. "My nonhuman girlfriend." "You mean your nonhuman fiancee." I correct him. "And very soon you won't be able to call me that because I will be your wife." "My wife." He says as if testing out the word. "Marriage is forever you know." "I know and ours will be no different. It will be forever." I promise him. "We will get dogs and cats and kids and live happily ever after." I tell him, only half jokingly.

“Focused on our future. And I’m telling you now—it’s going to be a boy.” I raised a brow. “A boy? You’re awfully confident about that.” “Of course. He'll have your eyes and my charm,” he teased. I snorted. “Or maybe it’ll be a girl with my beauty and your stubborness" “Either way, they’ll be perfect,” he said, raising his glass. Ferris turned to address the room. “To my future wife, the love of my life! I’m getting married!” The room became filled with cheers and applause. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. It was perfect—Ferris, me, our friends. Everything felt so right.

Then, his eyes turned gentle as he said, "At least I managed to fulfill my wish. Seeing you leave him and live well here on your own is enough. "Sometimes, I really want to go back to ten—no, 20 years ago," he said, his voice lowering. "Back to when we first got married. Back to… Back to when I still had time to salvage the situation." I remained silent as I picked up a small spray bottle. Fine droplets of water shimmered in the setting sun. I didn't know how to answer him. He just smiled and said, "The ten years after we got married were the best ten years of my life.

When I turned twenty-two, he lit up the sky with fireworks and drones, spelling out his romantic confession. Naturally, I fell head-over-heels for the man who was both domineering and tender. I really believed my fairy tale had come true. However, shortly after the wedding, Marco injured his spinal cord in a turf war, and the doctors said he’d spend the rest of his life in bed. He couldn’t accept that kind of fall from power. He became irritable and volatile, sinking into self-destructive urges and suicidal thoughts. In less than three months, he had tormented himself into a shell of who he once was.

I shifted a sly glance at Jeanne, who gave me back a confused look. "You can have your annulment," I began, and the man let out a sigh of relief, "But not until the third of January." He froze, "Excuse me?" "Well, the thing is, I need a husband for Christmas," I winced at the look on his face, "And New year." "Not interested." He deadpanned. "And you already happen to be my husband," I braved on. "Not for much longer." "You won't have to do anything. Just show up for a few days, and wear a smile. Or not. Christmas in my hometown is amazing and I promise you won't regret it." I said with a hopeful smile.