Romans & histoires I Am The Real Wife

"I've brought friends here before. Just to enjoy the island, not for sex." "Really?" She sounded skeptical. "Really," I confirmed. "You're the only woman I've fucked here." "Because I'm your wife," she said with a small smile. "Exactly. My wife." Her smile faltered slightly. "Fake wife." Something in my chest tightened at her words. I didn't like the term "fake wife." It felt wrong somehow, especially after what we'd shared last night. "Contractual wife," I corrected, keeping my voice neutral.

“I’m only protecting you.” “Thanks,” I let out a dry laugh. “But I’m okay. I can protect myself.” His eyes narrow, voice dropping low as he steps closer. “Do you know what being my wife means?” “Fake wife,” I correct him. “Fake or not, you are my wife, and that makes you untouchable. No one talks, touches, or even breathes in your direction when I’m watching.” My heart skips a beat. What? No, I didn’t hear that correctly.

"Who are you calling the other woman? Anna is my wife. She was the one I married." Wilson moved to stand by me, his hand finding my shoulder. "Rowena, enough with the drama, okay?" It was a relief to hear him defend me, but the way he scolded Rowena, trying to hold back his anger, it still felt like he was taking sides. Suddenly, he seemed like a stranger to me. Maybe the love we had was just a mirage, nothing more than the sweet phase every couple goes through at the start. "What did you just say?" Rowena was even more shocked by Wilson's declaration than by the slap. Her eyes were huge as she pointed at me, her voice shaking. "You say she's your wife? Then what am I? We're married!"

I didn’t even realize she was still here. She stepped forward, her voice now shrill with desperation. “Besides… she isn’t who you think she is.” My heart sank into my stomach. My chest tightened. What is she up to this time? “I know who she is,” Adrian replied coolly, his voice steady and unshaken. “And she is my wife. Now leave before I call security.” My mouth opened in shock. I froze. Did he just say... wife? I still couldn’t bring myself to believe I had been working for my fake husband all this while… and I didn’t even know.

she says, tilting her head slightly, studying him like she’s trying to understand something that didn’t make any sense. “Are we doing this properly, or are we still pretending?” “Stop,” he says. “Why?” she asks, almost curious. “Because she’s here?” I didn’t move, speak or react. I watched him because this is where it matters. “She’s my wife,” he says. Camille watched him for a second, then smiled. “Is she?” Then she looked at me. “You’re in my place.” I held her gaze. “I didn’t see your name written on it.”

"Then why don't you go die?" "Because I still have to find someone." "Find who?" "My wife." Marco froze. Everyone froze. "Wife?" Marco pointed toward the operating room. "Your wife is in there!" "No." I shook my head. "That's not my wife." "What the hell are you talking about?" "I'm talking about my real wife," I said, standing up. "Thea Monroe." Marco's face turned purple with rage. "You say this to my face?" "I'm just stating a fact."

Eli Jefferson decides to go to the shopping mall to buy a present for his son, Zachary Foley, who is about to celebrate his first birthday. Alas, once again, he runs into Jason Snider, who causes a scene, calling him a homewrecker and beating him up. To keep Zachary out of harm's way, Eli is forced to endure the beating without fighting back. Jason pummels him until he's covered in bruises and almost breaks a few of his bones. In the end, Eli has no choice but to call the police. Both men are taken to the police station—and both claim to be the husband of Christina Foley. The police officer calls Christina to verify their claims. When Jason hears that Christina will be coming down to the

I ask, stepping slightly to the side so I am no longer hidden behind Caleb's shoulder. The woman lets out a soft, mocking chuckle. "He hasn't told you about me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Caleb always did like to bury things he couldn't handle." She looks back at Caleb, her expression softening into something desperate. "I'm Nancy, honey. I'm his wife."

My wife, Ivy York, has an avid suitor named Chester Sullivan, who claims to have transmigrated into a book for her. Even though Ivy has rejected him 99 times, he doggedly continues to pursue her affections. Then, during his 100th attempt, he's severely injured while rescuing her from a traffic accident. He looks at her desperately and pleads, "Ivy, please love me just this once. I really won't survive without your love." She remains expressionless. She just coldly instructs someone to send him to the hospital. "Samson Child is the only person I'll ever love. You're not worthy," she tells him. Later, I get into an accident and end up in critical condition. She kneels at the entrance to

Before tossing my wife's jacket in the wash, I checked the pockets and found a bill for maintenance fees. The address was for the apartment directly above ours. My wife, Teresa Payne, was listed as the owner. I stood there gripping the bill, my fingers going cold. For the past six months, she always seemed to be working late, often not coming home until well after dark. More than once, I noticed her car in the garage long after she left for work. Whenever I asked, she would say, "Gas is so expensive now. It's easier to just take the subway. Besides, it saves us a little money." I actually appreciated her watching our spending. Now, it all made sense. On those nights she claimed to be