Happy 8th Months Anniversary Novels & Stories

The care center called. "Hi, just wanted to ask if you're happy with our service so far." Well, that was odd. I was only eight months along. My baby wasn't even born yet. I had no need for the care center at the moment. So I kept digging. I pressed my husband for answers. He was the one handling the talks with the care center. I wanted to know what was going on. He gave me an apologetic look. "This center costs 120 grand, honey. We can't afford that. They must've gotten the wrong number. You should stay at home instead. I'll give you the perfect care you need." That was it. I wasn't going to waste my time talking to him. My sister, Jessie Gibson, owned the care center, so I called her instead. "Jessie? Yeah, it's me. William sent another woman to your place and stole my spot. I want you to find out who. He's cheating on me, and I'm getting proof!"

My sister-in-law, Sabine Vire, deliberately swapped my prenatal medication with abortion pills. As a result, my eight-month-old baby was gone. As I cried until I nearly collapsed from grief, my husband, Cassian Thorne, held me tightly and murmured, "Don’t worry. You’ll have another child." Three months later, I became pregnant again—this time with triplets. Overwhelmed with joy, I was just about to share the wonderful news with Cassian when I overheard a conversation between him and his friends. "All five of you didn’t use protection, right? I want to see how many brats her belly can carry. The wager is $50 million." "I bet three." "I bet one." Cassian burst into laughter. "If we’re betting, then we’re going big. I bet six. Who told her to slap my precious Sabine? If she can pop out a few brats to make Sabine happy, that’s her blessing." Sabine, the very woman who had fed me the abortion pills, was Cassian's beloved.

"You're…you're divorcing me on our anniversary? Our fourth anniversary?" He quirked an eyebrow. "So what?" A surge of anger swept through me at his aloofness. "Tell me Jason. Tell me. Did our marriage mean anything to you?" “You could’ve at least let me eat before destroying me,” I said, my lips trembling with the weight of unshed tears. Jason shrugged. “I don’t see the point of dragging it out. It’s done. Sign the papers.” On their fourth wedding anniversary, Jason slides divorce papers over the dining table. Isabelle is bewildered and tries to reason with him but he is adamant and he insists that she signs the papers. Then, Lila, her cousin, appears out of nowhere, visibly pregnant and clings to Jason possessively. Utterly shocked and angered, she signs the papers and leaves the house. When she returns, she is locked out. Just like that she becomes homeless. She wakes up in a cheap motel with no plan, no money, just nothing. She gets a cleaning job but on her way home after the first work day, she collapses. She discovers she is pregnant. By the help of a mysterious man she meets at the club, she leaves town. Years later, she returns to the city, changed, sophisticated and wealthy. What happens when her path and Jason's cross? Is she back for dirty revenge? To crush his world to nothing but dust? Or is there a chance she would take him back? What happens when the mysterious man returns to her life?

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

On my wedding anniversary, I came home to rose petals and champagne. Instead of romance, I found my husband in bed with my sister—wearing the couture gown I designed for her runway debut. He called my designs "boring" and revealed the fashion house I built was actually funded by her secret investor money. The child we adopted? Her biological son with my husband, who she abandoned to chase Paris Fashion Week. I walked out in nothing but the lingerie prototype from my latest collection. In a snowstorm. Straight into an exclusive fashion week after-party where I met him: a mysterious man who mistook me for a model and offered me a drink that tasted like freedom. One night later, I owed him $100,000. Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. And when I showed up to my job interview at the biggest fashion conglomerate in the industry, ready to prove my designs could save their failing luxury brand, the CEO sitting across from me was the same man from that night. He remembers me. He wants his money back. And he's offering me $5 million if I can take his brand from fashion week laughingstock to top five in three major shows. I took the bet. I just didn't tell him about the baby. Or that my ex-husband's textile company supplies the fabric for every major fashion house—including his.

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"

In the fifth month of my pregnancy, my husband brought back his first love, who was eight months pregnant and causing a stir about getting a divorce. I politely told him that pregnant women would influence each other, which wasn’t good for the child. Alex, however, smashed a water glass and said in disgust, "Sarah is depressed because of the divorce, and the only one she can rely on is me! Do you want her to die?" I felt nauseous and vomited, unable to sleep through the night, and my health worsened with each passing day. To make her happy, he filled the house with lilies. But he had forgotten that I was allergic to lilies and locked me in the room, saying, "Let’s see if you can get an allergic reaction if you can’t smell the lilies." I bled continuously, desperately calling him for help for both myself and the child, but he simply said that I was still early in the pregnancy and there wouldn’t be any problems. When the fetal movements stopped, I had completely given up. It was at that moment that he frantically pushed open the door.

Melody Sullivan's ex-husband had always been a cold, distant man. By day, she worked as his secretary. By night, she was his wife. In their two years of marriage, she never received even a hint of real affection from him. The day his childhood sweetheart returned to the country, they calmly signed the divorce papers. No one expected that six months later, Melody would find out she was pregnant. She had loved him in secret for years, but now she was done. Without hesitation, she left with his kid and cut him out of her life. He made his relationship with his childhood sweetheart public? That had nothing to do with her. He proposed to her? Melody congratulated them and wished them a happy life together, But then, the man rumored to be getting married showed up outside the delivery room the very day she gave birth. He asked to get back together! Melody shook her head repeatedly. "Mr. Hunt, the baby isn't yours." Caleb Hunt looked at her, his voice firm. "Even if the kid isn't mine, I still want both of you."

Melinda’s world shatters on her anniversary when she walks into her husband Ethan’s office, not for a celebratory surprise, but to find him entwined with her own sister, Sage. What happens, however, when years later, she comes back seeking revenge, but with twins, and a father who is new to the picture?

On her wedding anniversary, Esme's husband demands a divorce He accuses "You got promoted because you slept with your boss!" Esme decides to invite her boss to a bar as a form of revenge. To her surprise, the sexy single dad actually shows up— and soon moves in next door with his two daughters...