James Maslow Wife Novels & Stories

“You know someone.” She hesitated, then nodded. “His wife.” Everyone went quiet. “He was married?” Penelope asked. “Yes,” his mother said. “A long time ago. She was sweet. Soft. He ruined her. But she survived. I helped her escape. She lives in Rome now. Under a fake name.” James stood. “Then I’ll go to her.” “I’ll take you,” his mother said. “She trusts me.” Rose stood too. “Then I’m coming with you.”

But reality hurts, he was not a nobody, he has a bright future unlike her, if only her father didn't died early they wouldn't have a hard life and she would definitely deserved James as he was. James was fully un-aware that his beloved wife was suffering from maltreatment from his own respected family at that time. She didn't even bothered to tell him, simply because she doesn't want to cause problem between him and his family, she swallowed it whole for him, for what? For five years she kept it on herself but his savior abandoned her without knowing her side, maybe he chose to believed everything they say about her. She was afraid and hesitant to see James, and his parents specially Sandra

but my mood was short lived, “I suppose I should give you my real number one and give you the opportunity to walk away now.” “Marina isn’t going anywhere,” James pinned me under a frustrated glare. My lips pulled into a frown and my heart began racing, “Who is she to you, James?” “Who or what she is doesn’t matter. Why is it that you can’t accept that?” he sounded exasperated. I closed my eyes, feeling the all-too-familiar sting of tears burning my eyes, “It matters because I’m your wife. I didn’t marry you so that I could share you with someone else.”

She was small, energetic, and carried herself with the unmistakable confidence of someone who had earned the right to ignore her age. “There you are.” She embraced Elena warmly before stepping back. “I was beginning to think those important meetings had stolen you.” “They tried.” Elena laughed. “But I escaped.” Only then did the older woman notice Adrian. Her eyes narrowed with theatrical suspicion. “And who is this handsome stranger?” Elena looked momentarily uncertain. “This is my husband…” She paused almost imperceptibly before finishing. “…Adrian.” The hesitation lasted less than a second. It still reached him. Mrs. Alvarez welcomed them inside without another question.

"Of course not!" I sat down. It was almost funny, attending my own wife's wedding and whatnot. I started looking around. Before long, the older woman beside me struck up a conversation. "Those two look perfect together, don't they? It wasn't easy for them to get married." I gritted my teeth, but the bitterness still came. "What made it hard?"

I didn't want the innocent little one caught up in this drama. Josephine immediately ushered her son off to bed. The boy listened quietly, obedient as she tucked him in. "Go to sleep now, and tomorrow, I'll take you to eat something nice, okay?" I said softly, ruffling the boy's hair gently, offering what comfort I could. Josephine sat down on the couch, visibly worn, and began to explain. "My husband's name is Finn Parker. We met through a blind date." "Wait—did you say his name is Finn Parker?" I interrupted, my voice rising.

Either way, it is what I do. I had barely blown out the candles on my thirty-third birthday cake when James walked into my world. He was forty-four, married, and the father of three children. His wife, Jane, had been handling the accounts in my internet marketing company for the past two years. She was sweet enough, reliable in her quiet way, but nothing that ever turned heads.

"I'm fine." "I'll go make him another pot of stew," Maya offered, smiling at James and Beverly's sweet interaction before heading into the kitchen. She'd been working for them right from the start and knew the truth behind their marriage. Maya had been through enough to see through James' intentions. Unfortunately, Beverly's last marriage must have hurt her deeply, for she'd never considered the possibility of James having such intentions or desires. "You don't have to cook in the future," James said. He was sitting on a cushion on the floor as he peered at Beverly's face while she hovered over him.

Just enough. Elena pushed the contract towards him. “My mother first.” “Tonight,” he said. “And I’m not your toy.” His gaze lifted to hers. Dark. Steady. Close enough now that she could see a faint scar cutting through one eyebrow. “No,” he said. “You’re my wife.” The word hit harder than it should have. Wife. Her pulse stumbled. Adrian held out his hand, then paused. “May I?” The question was quiet. Almost private.