House Wife Novels & Stories

" With a single sentence, my mate dismissed every sacrifice I had made for this household. He was tired of me, yet he still craved my cooking. No—because he thought I was the cheapest maid. A bitter laugh slipped past my lips as I pressed the pen down and signed my name. After Lucas left, I went to meet Ms. Murphy. On my way, I ran into Amy, who was watering the flowers in front of her house. She greeted me with her usual cheerfulness. "Mrs. Howl, did you and Mr. Howl fight? He stormed out this morning, looking furious. He'd even asked me for a sandwich."

"Hmm, sorry." The woman cleared her throat lazily while muttering the word sorry for not being sincere to her husband who was currently playing with Ciara. After all, recently Aciel has been more selfish and spoiled. Little by little the man told her this and that and would turn angry if she could not do it according to her husband's request. Sometimes she wants to scream in that man's face if she is actually no less busy than that man. Even though she is only a housewife, her job is actually more tiring and emotionally draining than a CEO. "Honey, let's go home."

It's just that it doesn't suit her taste. Ever since she lived her after her wedding, she have thought and learned of so many things. She learned about doing some of the household chores but just the basic ones, and she loved it. She loved cleaning the house because it feels like she was now truly a wife. A wife of the man she have long dreamed to be with.

Natalia says, smiling because of the praise. “Oh, my wife cannot cook anything to save her life. When we cook at home, I’m usually the one who does everything to prepare all the food. Not that I’m complaining.” Stephan says and Noah and Natalia’s eyes widen. “Why would you do that?” Noah asks. “Why would you cook for your wife at home? She is the woman!” Stephan shakes his head. “Cooking is not a gender role, and that is what I believe. That is an old fashioned rule. Plus, I can cook, so it is okay.”

“Eira, look at him. What kind of attitude is that? “We’re just asking him to cook a meal. He’s acting as if we owed him something. “You must’ve spoiled him rotten over these past five years!” He turned to me and thrust his chin out haughtily. “Vedran, I advise you to remember your place. “You eat our food and live under our roof. Isn’t it only fair to do some chores? Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” I laughed. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Your roof?” I rose and walked toward them. My gaze was fixed on Eira. “Eira, tell me. Whose villa is this, exactly?”

"Something about her face looks familiar, but there's no way my wife could ever look like that. Vanya doesn't have clothes like that, hell, she doesn't even know how to do her makeup properly." Tracy laughed cruelly. "Bernard, your wife is a pathetic housewife who shops at thrift stores and cuts her own hair. Even in her dreams, she could never look like that goddess over there. That woman probably spends more on her monthly beauty routine than Vanya spends on groceries in a year." I kept walking, letting their words wash over me without feeling any pain. In fact, I felt sorry for them. They were about to learn exactly what this "pathetic housewife" was capable of when she stopped playing th

I rise with a huff, waving off the male servant who steps forward to assist me, and shuffle out of the dining room and through the quiet house. After an hour of poking through every single room in search of him, I give up. It’s obvious he’s not here, and my job as his forced wife is to play house. Fine. Whatever. I’m trained appropriately for this. I know how to run a house far larger than this, that's for damn sure. I don’t even need a lady’s maid or head housekeeper to keep this place running like a well-oiled machine. It’s not that big. I should tell him that, call his fancy house small in comparison to–

“Don’t you often find that position filled by a woman? It explains why you wouldn’t have time to focus on housecleaning.” “That and Hilda claimed years ago I could burn water and so I got banned from working in the main house’s kitchens.” “Who’s Hilda?” “She’s the chief cook and housekeeper at the p… main house. If you need anything for everyday living, you talk to her. She gets it all cleared away for accounting and such.” “Wait, you pool money together? Don’t you have your own money?”

“Only heard of his ex wife, he once had a wife and that was a past.” She shrugged apathetically. “Fortunately I'm still the only one he loves.” “Maybe?” “Tell me, did he pay you to pretend to be his wife? I know Richard would do anything to have me back, just tell me the truth darling. I promise I'm not going to tell a soul.” Charlene stifled the urge to laugh. She noticed that Henrietta was trying not to break down but her voice was about to fail her. “Pay me? That's ludicrous.”

I vowed that no woman, especially not my future wife, would stay in this area. Upon reaching my abode, I swiftly kicked off my shoes, feeling the relief of being free from their confines. Sliding around in my socks, I made my way through the familiar halls. Thankfully, Mrs. Madison, my trusted housekeeper, had left me a casserole, knowing my busy schedule all too well. Despite her occasional nagging, she was like a mother to me in this bustling city where I often felt alone. I usually spent my weekends with my parents in the tranquil countryside, seeking solace from the chaos of urban life.