Goodbye Husband Novels & Stories

Several years after that tragic incident took place, the group of drug dealers still managed to locate me. I called my husband, whilst trembling in fear, Harvey Ferguson, and placed my only hope on him. Unfortunately, my call for help was returned with his indifferent response. "Danica, you're a terrible liar. Do you think I will believe you if you imitate what happened to Nat? Get over here and finalize our divorce in three days. Stop coming up with bad excuses like this."

My disappointment was probably written all over my face, because he held me tight and said tenderly, “I’ll try not to go overseas as much after those kids settle in. Once I start staying at home more, I’m sure we’ll have our own baby soon. Believe me.” Staring at his familiar features, I remembered how he had hugged me just like this, promising me he would come back soon… right before his flight to Switzerland. He had come back, but his heart remained in the Alps. “Alright.” I forced a smile and watched him rush away. Since the New York administrative system did not contain any records of our marriage, that meant the marriage certificate we obtained in Vegas had no effect. That saved me the

Taking advantage of the doubt reflecting on the faces of the people in attendance, I swayed on my feet, sinking to the floor. “This is sad,” I murmured, my voice loud enough for others to hear it. “It’s so sad that my husband is getting married to someone else in such a short time I was absent from his life. I was made to believe that we had been very much in love. How could you move on so quickly from someone you were in love with?”

the other man asked. There was a pause. A long one. "Does it matter?" Mike finally replied, his voice tight. "Come on, man. I've known you for ten years. You don't just wake up one day and get married. Especially not you." I stepped closer to the hallway, my bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure they'd hear it. "It happened fast," Mike said flatly. "That's all." "Fast?" The man laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Try nonexistent. Three weeks ago you were telling me you'd never get married. Now you've got a wife I've never even heard of?"

“Good graci—” Even after all this time, Richard cared for me. He left me all of his belongings, not just his money. I have loved him. Really. Truly. But sometimes, you have to say goodbye. I have to say goodbye. “Goodbye, Richard.” Then I walked away, laying my past on his grave and watering the flowers around him through my tears. “Goodbye, my love…” Those were the last words I uttered before strolling towards my family. My husband and kids beaming at me.

My husband, Caleb Thorne, only returned from wherever he was the next day. When he did, I was busy cleaning up the mess in our backyard. It was our seventh anniversary yesterday. Before things went downhill, he had once told me, "I hear people say that a marriage will fall apart after seven years, but I don't believe in such nonsense. So, we should invite all our friends and family to our seventh anniversary. That way, we can flaunt our happy marriage right in their faces."

Because it was probably true. Their marriage hadn't failed because they hated each other. It had failed because they stopped seeing each other. Stopped listening. Stopped growing. For years, they had lived beside one another. Not with one another. A subtle difference. A devastating one. Sebastian looked toward her. "We were good at appearances." "Very good." "Too good." Lena laughed softly. "Definitely too good." For the first time that evening, the tension eased. Just a little. Across the hall, Rebecca sat alone on her bed.

“I’m telling you this so you don't get hurt again. That doesn't mean I actually like the guy. He’s still an asshole in my book.” I couldn't help but shake my head at that as I headed through the gate. I looked back and smiled. “Alright, I’m going in.” “Call me when you get to the island.” I gave him a small smile and a slow nod. “I will. But for now... I need to talk to my husband. I have to say goodbye.”

She set it on the counter and stared at it. "I wanted him to be surprised, it was my birthday but still i wanted to surprise him" "He's an idiot," I said. It came out rough. "He's my husband." She laughed without humor. "That's the worst part." Husband. I grabbed the word and held it like a rope. Lucien's wife. You've sat at his table a hundred times. Look at the floor. Look at the damn floor. I looked at the floor. It lasted about four seconds.

When my wife's boy toy, Bradley Bell, posts on social media about wanting to settle down, she loses her cool. She rushes home—a place she hasn't set foot in for months—and pleads, "Alan, Bradley is throwing a total fit about wanting something official. Let's get a fake divorce. Just move out for a few days, okay? "Don't worry. It's just a fake divorce. You're the only man I'll ever consider my husband." Seeing her desperate expression, I agree. What she doesn't know is that I came to her side through a companion system I was bound to. Once we're divorced and living apart, I'll be destined to vanish from this world forever, and she'll never see me again.