Husband In Second Life Novels & Stories

What is the level of your husband? He is a chanter and his level is a celestial martial saint. My husband can’t have to die he is too powerful to die. Because he works faster like how electric power works. The only problem is that there is a book titled the supreme power for conjurers hanged at the ocean god’s palace. The spiritual world would not allow that powerful book to fall into the hands of humans. So if you take it then it won't be easy for you, maybe he might have taken it so let’s wait till midday if he doesn’t come then he might have been captured. May pray for him if you really love him. Alright Daddy, thank you.

Insurance. Half an hour later Hunter was desperate. I was jumping and drooling, yelling things like How My Pony dances! I tied him to my bed and wouldn't let him go! In addition to other obscenities that I couldn't help but blurt out to see him move. That man was perfect. There had to be someone who looked like him. That was going to be my husband. I knew it. I imagined myself next to him at the altar, holding his hand. Too bad he was already married. We were the perfect couple.

She stirs the pot again, wooden spoon scraping softly against the bottom, as if giving me space without letting me off the hook. I study her for a long moment, then take the glass and drink slowly. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before I speak. “I’m thinking of getting pregnant.” The spoon slips from her hand and clatters against the pot. She turns around so fast I almost step back. “Mind if I ask who you’re planning to choose as the father?” I frown. “I’m married, Laura. Felix is my husband.” She arches a brow in mock realization. “Oh. Right. I thought you two were just roommates.”

"Congratulations! The mistress has finally made it official! I won't attend the wedding, but to celebrate your big day, I've specially arranged a dance troupe for you." I clapped my hands again. From all directions, thirty or forty middle-aged women barged out and started beating on drums at the entrance. The city hall was packed, and many people came out to watch. The women were singing loudly. "Congratulations to Mistress Grace for becoming the official wife! Nate picked up second-hand goods. Congratulations, congratulations!" Nate clenched his jaw and pointed at me furiously. "Wendy, are you done yet?!" I couldn't care less. "We were married once. No need to thank me."

"Charlotte Valco, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish him through all the days of your life, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, forsaking all others?" Charlotte held Howard's eyes, her past life's scars and this life's resolve steeling her spine, lips parting with deliberate clarity. "I, Charlotte Valco, take you, Howard Carter, to be my husband. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, forsaking all others, as long as we both shall live." Her tone rang true, infused with foresight's edge—vows not of blind faith, but calculated rebirth.

And this man was her husband. The Lord of the House of Sorcery and her husband, Lord Soren Sterling Stuart, was a man she worked hard to marry. It was not easy catching the attention of a man, much more a Lord of a House, whose only interests were in books and politics and who had hobbies she could count in one hand. However, during their honeymoon, she realized among those hobbies, his favorite was lovemaking. And he was particularly weak to her when she was naked.

For a second, I felt this flicker of hope— Then bitterness swallowed it whole. The affair still sat in my chest like glass. I didn't know if I'd ever stop bleeding from it. And honestly? I hated how pathetic I'd become. Caught my husband cheating, and somehow I'm still here, handing out second chances like candy. I didn't even recognize myself anymore. But after ten years, the thought of letting him go felt like free-falling. He was all I had left. While I sat drowning in that, his phone rang—loud and sharp, slicing through the quiet.

" The nurse replied, with a pitiful tone. The words sliced through her chest. Yulia’s sob escaped before she could stop it. She bent closer, desperately trying to make him see, to make him remember her. "Please, Franklin, it’s me. Look at me! I’ve been here through everything with you, we had a child, our little Jewel, she'd died in a plane crash two years ago and...and.... You’re my husband, I’m your wife!" The door opened at that exact moment. Delilah swept in with the doctor at her side, her heels echoing like a death knell across the sterile floor.

"OMG! My sister's husband is handsome, Ma!" "Mom, sister has already dumped the foreigner! The pearl of the southwest and the east has been surrendered." "Hi there, I'm your sister's husband. I'm Zyd." he happily introduced himself to his brothers. "Hala! How did my sister manage to gayumatized you? Is she dancing like a witch again with her long spoon and making latin words to make you marry her?" "Or did Lianne tie you in bed and ask you to marry her? Tell us, please!"

"You don't remember the three of us?" She stared around at the three of them, looking for any features she recognized, but there were none. Zion was the largest of the three, and the most fearsome looking with his tattoos and muscled body, but the other two were not small either. The quiet one only looked at her with indifference, though he had a handsome face, she thought as she stared at him. Gunther gave her a weak smile, but she could tell his heart was not in it. Clearly, he wore his heart on his sleeve, making her wonder if he was as annoying as he seemed. When she averted her gaze to the sparks of the fire, she went over what she knew. These three knew her, and she was very important