Honey Mouthed

On Christmas night, my husband, Finnick Carson, can't spend the holidays with me because he's on a business trip. In order to make it up to me, he's specifically ordered a Christmas feast from a fancy restaurant and has it delivered to our home. But when I open the box containing the feast, I'm shell-shocked by what I see. Not only an array of seafood—that I'm allergic to—is arranged in containers, but there's also a kid's meal set included in the feast. When the deliveryman sees the food, he apologizes to me and tells me that he's mixed up the two meals that Finnick has ordered. This leaves me feeling uneasy. Why would my husband order two meals? So, I decide to find my way to the delivery address that the other meal is meant for. Shockingly enough, I see Finnick standing in a villa's backyard while picking candies from a Christmas tree with a mother and a son. The little boy then rushes into his arms happily. "Daddy, I'd like an amusement park for my birthday gift this year!" Finnick pinches his cheek gently. "Okay. I'll give your mommy a set of jewelry, too." The woman cuddles with him happily. "You're so nice to us, honey!" Having recorded the entire scene quietly, I send it to my lawyer. "Help me expedite my divorce so that my husband can reunite with his family as soon as possible."

To take care of my paralyzed mother-in-law, I quit my job and spent three years as a full-time househusband. That day, after cleaning up her waste, I hid in the bathroom with a cigarette between my fingers and came across a post on my wife’s boss’ Instagram. [You’re meant to be with me in the end. Since that freeloader can’t give you happiness, let me take you to the paradise of Maldev.] Above the caption were two plane tickets. Someone commented below. [That homemaker husband of hers is definitely clinging onto her. After all, she’s his meal ticket.] The boss replied. [Don’t worry. Tonight she’ll go home and come clean. She’ll say the company was caught falsifying accounts and is facing massive fines, and that she might need to serve jail time. [To keep that guy from getting dragged into it, the only option is divorce. He’s as timid as a mouse and will take any chance to flee.] I stared at the screen, stunned, until the cigarette burned my fingers. Ten minutes later, my wife rushed home, panic written all over her face. She dropped her bag on the floor. “Honey, something’s gone wrong with the company’s finances. They’re accusing us of falsifying accounts. I was solely responsible for the accounts. I might need to serve 10 years in prison, plus fines of more than ten thousand dollars. “We need to sign the papers before they seize our house. I don’t want to drag you and mom into this.”

“Don’t you want to see how manly your husband is, honey?” he whispered huskily, his voice tinged with seduction. Even in his madness, he licked the tip of her ear as he nibbled it gently. His breath was hot, and the tip of his tongue was rough, sending shivers down her spine. She tried to break free, but it seemed that her strength was no match for his. “You’re hurting me, Ace!” she snapped as she squirmed. Seizing the opportunity from his loosening grip to escape from him. However, before she could spin around, he slammed her body violently against the glass wall again, causing her to whimper as her nose hit the glass. He was nothing but a heartless fucking gay man. *********************************************** Sierra Carlson is a hot and gorgeous model trapped in a loveless marriage with Ace Valentino, a man who keeps a shocking secret of being gay and will never love her. Forced to marry Ace solely to cover up his dark side, Sierra feels her life has been taken hostage by a twisted, possessive man who is arrogant and has a hidden agenda for himself. Ace Valentino is the CEO of Valentino Enterprise, known for his public image as a man of mystery. No one knows that he secretly identifies as gay. He even forces Sierra, a model under his own company, into a loveless marriage, and even worse, he has a secret lover working under the same company. Will she be able to win over her gay husband, or will she and Ace forever be stuck in this ridiculous marriage filled with drama and lies?

My husband died in a fire trying to save me, leaving behind a mountain of debt and a newborn child. I worked hard to pay off the debt while raising the child, only to unintentionally discover that my husband hadn’t died at all. Instead, he was sleeping with my cousin. “Honey, you’re so clever. You transferred all the company funds and faked your death, leaving that stupid wife of yours to shoulder all the debt. “She’s so clueless that she doesn’t even realize the son she’s raising isn’t hers, that I swapped him out. Once she’s done paying off the debts, the three of us can live a great life together.” I silently sneered, pretending I knew nothing, and continued to raise the child. Twenty years later, my son returned home after studying abroad. The company went public in New York. On the day of the IPO, my cousin appeared arm in arm with my husband, holding a paternity test. “Claire, your husband never died. We’ve been together all these years. Alex is my son. Now that you’ve been his mother for so long, isn’t it time to return him to me?” My husband also presented a divorce agreement. “I built this company from scratch. It’s premarital property. Sign the divorce papers, walk away with nothing, and you can leave now.” I smiled and told him, “I’ve prepared a special gift for you too. I wonder if you’ll like it."

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

|Excerpt| Iris was taking small steps to her husband's study. She had a medical file in her hand with tears in her eyes while she tightly gripped the file. Without knocking she entered the study to find her husband with a lawyer beside him. "Honey..", Iris started while looking down but was cut by a dark alluring voice. "Don't honey me you filthy women, just sign these divorce papers and take whatever you want and get out of my estate." Listening this Iris looked up and gasped as she looked in the dead eyes of her husband. | • | Iris Knight or now just Iris has been through alot in these past two years. Navigating her way since she got that report has been quite a task. Now broken beyond repair or as she believes she just lives without any hope... | • | Tristan Knight had it all money, power and most importantly the love of his life. But losing her due to some morphed photos have turned him into a ruthless and cold man with only goal being to find his flower... | • | So what will happen when Tristan and Iris finally after two years come face to face. Regrets, hatred, love, forgiveness, misery, happiness, sadness, hope, jealousy and trust; with so many emotion cruising what and who will win at what stake? With two most important question remaining like a mystery; What happened to Iris in the past two years and what was there in the file...

I have been married to Andrew Connolly for four years, but whenever his gaze meets mine, there is no recognition at all. Even my voice doesn't register. He remembers everyone around him, yet the one person he never remembers is that I am his wife. If I put on a hat, he asks who I am. When I tie my hair up, he assumes I am a new hire at his company. To help him remember, I repeat the same outfit, the same makeup, the same hairstyle. Still, despite my daily presence, he treats me like a stranger. I tell myself Andrew is simply buried in work, that the neglect is accidental, right up until a concert night. I watch him cut through the crowd and embrace his first love, whom he has not seen in years. When the stage suddenly collapses, I seize his arm and beg, "Honey, please save me." Andrew shoves me away, his voice flat and cold. "You're not my wife. My wife is at home." I am crushed beneath the falling debris. Choking on blood, I can only watch as Andrew rescues his first love and walks away. That is when I realize it's not that he can't remember me, he just doesn't love me. The bodyguards drag me out of the wreckage. Later, I spend a month confined to bed with serious injuries. While I am in the hospital, I get a photo of Andrew kissing his first love. The blows land one after another and mercilessly jerk me awake. I am done with love, and I am done with him!

My son just had surgery. I'm sitting by his bedside in the hospital when I come across a post online. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?" One anonymous comment stands out. "I used the upperclassman who funded me as a stepping stone. My sponsor was rich but clueless. After she paid for my entire college, I slept with her husband and got pregnant. "The craziest part? My son and her son were born on the same day, but my husband swapped the babies. Now, she treats my son like he's her whole world, working day and night to give him a better life. "But her own son lives with me, wearing hand-me-downs and eating leftovers. Today, my son had surgery. I was worried sick, so I slapped her son hard a few times. "Oh, and her family just got a three-million-dollar payout for relocation. My husband is going to the hospital later. He's going to use the excuse of buying a house near the schools to get the money. "Once we have the money, I'm buying a villa. Then I'll get my son back and kick her out!" The post includes a blurry photo of a boy begging on his knees. My breath catches because the charm on his wrist is the same lucky charm I gave my son the day he was born. Just then, my husband pushes open the door to the ward and walks in. "Honey, Sean's starting elementary school soon. Let's use that relocation money your mom received to buy a house near the schools."

Finally it was time to give her the ring, and Sue didnt hide her disappointment when she saw it. "Told you," Justin whispered. Jake simply smiled and slipped it on her finger. "I now pronounce you man and wife," the preacher said. "You may kiss the bride." He lifted the veil and was struck that she would wear so little make up and still look stunning. She really does have simple but elegant taste. She"s going to throw a fit when she sees her new wardrobe. He already knew he would be assigning Mrs. Parker and her team of seamstresses with a new wardrobe. This time he would have to let Sue talk to her about what she wanted. He didn"t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. As he bent to kiss her on the lips, she gave a slight turn of her head so he kissed the side of her mouth instead. "Well honey, aren"t you full of surprises today," he teased. Having managed to catch her off guard, he wrapped her in his arms and gave her a long kiss on the mouth. She was too stunned to react in time to stop him. Several men chuckled and the single women sighed as if imagining he was kissing them. When Jake let go of her, he shot her a triumphant look. She looked flustered and then furious. They turned to the people as the preacher announced, "I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Jake Mitchell." She was reluctant to walk down the aisle with him so he gently led her by the arm. "We don"t want to disappoint the people. Remember, it"s only for six months." She sighed and started walking with him.

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.