Novel & Cerita Housewife Story

Vivienne shakes her head, “He took advantage of me. When I saw you in that hospital bed, your back was covered in burns, and the doctors said you might not survive. It broke something in me. I’m not the type of woman who cheats.” “You never came to see me,” I say through gritted teeth. “I did. When they first brought you in. Before the surgery. They were still trying to remove your clothes. I ran away when I saw it.” I scoff, “So you are the type that runs when things get hard. I’m glad I didn’t marry you. I deserve a woman who accepts all of me, even my scars.” “Do you think your wife could stomach it. I’d like to see what her reaction would be. What does she do when she sees your scars?”

but Aubrey remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. "You didn't listen to your mother. Apologize to my wife," Mrs. Davis demanded. Aubrey raised her eyes, met Davis's gaze, and stammered, "I-I-I am..." Interrupting her, Evan's voice resonated through the room. "My wife will not apologize to anyone," he declared, surprising everyone, including Mrs. Jane, who looked at Evan in disbelief. "Your wife?" Mr. Davis questioned, shocked. "Yes, both you and your mistress were berating my wife," Evan affirmed. "So, you married a maid," Mr. Davis sneered. Evan laughed and responded, "She is not a maid. She chooses to work because she enjoys it. Besides, you can marry any random woman off the stre

"A year and a half ago, I was a prisoner in this house. The man I thought I could trust, my husband, was systematically poisoning me with mercury. He pushed me down the stairs and told doctors I was mentally unstable. He paralyzed me with drugs and planned to murder me." I see some people shift uncomfortably. Good. This should be uncomfortable. "In that upstairs bedroom," I pointed to a window on the second floor, "I couldn't walk. I couldn't escape. I spent weeks believing I would die here, and no one would ever know the truth." Emma makes a small noise from Tony's arms, and I smile at her before continuing.

She had worked late into the night that day, rubbing her hands raw with blisters. As I applied ointment to her palms, I scolded her for being foolish. She had only smiled and said, “If my husband and child want something, I’ll make sure they have it.” We had been so good then. We met in college. She had been a poor student with nothing to her name, and I had been the son of the wealthiest family in Rivershire.

I stated, "You claim you took a shortcut because you wanted to give me a better life. Your shortcut was taking our joint savings to fund a wedding with another man, get pregnant with his child, and use his family to climb the social ladder. "What about after you made it? What were you going to do with me? Do you intend to give me a payout to get rid of me or keep stringing me along as your dirty little secret of an ex-husband? "You ought to stop making yourself sound so full of deep affection and stop treating me like a fool, Queenie. Your version of love is entirely worthless and completely filthy."

She and her husband bought a small house and were ready to live out their retirement in their hometown, South Cedid. As for the man Louise had an affair with, he was married to a notorious daughter of a mafia family. Louise was then sold into a brothel, contracted a venereal disease, and died on a straw mat in a basement. As for me, I continued to build my career. Our company achieved a major breakthrough in cutting-edge technology and even won a national award. When I went up to the stage to accept the award, my husband, Levi, walked slowly toward me with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

She let out a shaky sigh of relief as the men left, while I took the opportunity to examine the house more carefully. There was nothing special about it, just a small, cozy home that had witnessed every phase of the family’s life and sheltered them through everything. It couldn’t be this place. The woman didn’t look like she was part of anything criminal either. Her droopy eyes, which hadn’t seen sleep in days, and the several burns on her hands told me she was a chef struggling to make ends meet. “I’m sorry my men and I interrupted your family dinner. It wasn’t my intention. I’ll compensate for all this, and—” I began, but the woman cut me off.

She says and I laugh. "But I really am an accountant, and I do plan on being a housewife when I get married." "Not bad, not bad." I say. She stays quiet with a funny expression on her face. "What?" I ask, and she bursts out laughing again. "What is it this time?" I ask, unable to keep up with this woman and her antics. "I'm really married, and that's my husband. Why is it so easy to fool you?" She's clearly having fun toying with me. I laugh. I like her vibe. She's pretty funny.

He placed the phone to his ear, praying he had the courage to tell his wife what was happening. "Who's this?" She asked. "It's me, honey. I have to tell you something." "What?" Her voice sounded dire. Can I go on? "It's about Ema, She fell unconscious..." "What!" His wife's voice rang repeatedly in his ear, "What happened to her?" "The doctor said she has a brain lesion apparently from her accident and it might be healing so—" "So what?" "Her memories are coming back." "What? No! We'll lose her." She was hysterical.

It was a feeling she couldn't explain, a feeling that whispered something was coming, something that would test their marriage in ways neither of them could imagine. She didn't know that somewhere else in New York, a woman named Sophia Reed was about to step into their lives. She didn't know that once Sophia did, her world, the one she had built with her own hands, her own heart, and her own sacrifices, would never be whole again.