Housewife 1960 Novels & Stories

“N-NO!” “You resist one more time, I’d have to cuff you, love.” My body stiffened as I angrily glared at him. He couldn’t be serious. But the swirls of eyes were more than serious. He’d cuff me rendering me helpless once again. My eyes reflected with intense fury and rage. Wife they call me and yet treat me like a whore. Use me whenever their heart desire. “I am your wife!” I cried angry tears rushing down my eyes. Ralph looked amused shaking his head. “Not a whore!”

No doubt scared out of her mind, but I swore tonight would be the only time Carter would put her in a cell, would take her from me. It was 4 a.m., and something in my gut twisted. Things were taking too long. It was all moving too slowly. The policeman behind the desk was drinking a fucking cup of tea and had dunked his sixth biscuit like this was another slow Tuesday whilst my wife was behind bars for something she didn't fucking do.

Back then they barely had money, but they had each other completely. Adrian loosened his tie as they entered. "I'm going to take a shower." Isabelle nodded. "Okay." He disappeared upstairs. Silence settled around her, heavy and suffocating. Her gaze drifted to the family photographs. She saw vacations, birthdays, and anniversaries, years of memories frozen in frames. One caught her attention. A younger Adrian stood beside her outside a rundown apartment building. They were smiling genuinely, not because life was easy, but because they were together.

She is your stepmother. - She was never my mother, she was my father's wife. She told that on the first day she entered our house. I remember that like it was yesterday. She entered in a white elegant suit and a big hat on her head. She was beautiful. Her blonde hair was long and curly. She entered our house as she owned it. She looked at me and said. You must be her. I just nodded and she said. "Well, I am your father's new wife. You can call me madam." - Madam? he had a strange look in his eyes.

She herself was surprised to still see him working here “Madam Astra? Is that you ma’am” James inquired? He wasn’t sure if indeed it was Astra. Her face looked slightly different, her lips fuller and her nose more pointed. Her body though had the same features except for the increase of her bust. Another reason why James questioned if it were Astra was that after that night, James could swear she’d never step foot into this house again. He had watched the whole thing happen from afar. And even Astra herself swore she’d never return here, and look where we are folks. In the one place that brought too many memories. Astra looked at the house, it was still magnificent and had the same power it

She cautioned, indirectly referring to herself. "His wife must be from a very wealthy home. Her father is prolly some other business tycoon or some governor's daughter or even president's daughter." Kelly speculated. "Or maybe his wife is just an ordinary girl like you and me." Adele looked at her and smiled. "I highly doubt that Mr. Kind will settle for ordinary." Kelly denied and she just nodded her head and leaned on her backrest. "Well he did." She whispered inaudibly as a wide smile spread on her face.

I let out a sigh of relief as my eyes swept over the beautiful planterette, which included an array of foliage and white roses placed artfully. The last day of my four years as a housekeeper at Elite Oak Resort was today, and tomorrow I will be married to my childhood sweetheart Arlo. It's a bittersweet time in any woman's life, when she must say goodbye to the past and embrace the future with her soul mate. The clock struck five o'clock, and I had just 30 minutes to change and race to the seamstress to pick up my bridal gown; Mother Mary, please assist me; I pray it fits. If you could just make me thinner, I promise I would never miss another Sunday service again.

She said, her eyes still pinned to the papers. “I am very sorry. This publication was on the verge of bankruptcy last year. My wife demanded huge alimony that made a hole in my pocket. Your books saved me and this publication, but I failed to help you when you needed it the most,” Warren said, his eyes hinting helplessness, remembering the past. “But I am glad you failed to help me,” She smiled and Warren looked confused, “That’s how I got my husband!” “Oh, yes! I wanted to know how the girl from the small city in India got married to the heartthrob of London,” Warren chuckled. “How did you guys met?”

I tell her. When I got back, I checked out joint account to see if I needed to send her anymore money, imagine my shock when I realize she hasn’t spent a cent of it in years. “I’ve noticed you haven’t used the money from our joint account.” I mention. She nods. “Yes, I got an admin job a few years ago after I got my degree, so I’ve been using that money for groceries.” She says looking down at her hands. I sigh, not saying anything. Olivia always assumes she’s a bother to me. Though we’ve only spent one night together and made our daughter, she’s still my wife and I’ve been faithful to her.