Knotted Wife Novels & Stories

In the face of clear evidence, things were turning in my favor. In this round, Jean and Kyle had suffered a crushing defeat. Kyle's perjury in court and the scandal of being a homewrecker had quickly spread throughout their small circle of wealthy elites. It had also reached the ears of his father, Dominic Jones. It was said that Dominic had been playing golf with an important business partner that day. Upon hearing the report from his secretary, he had been so furious that he had snapped his golf club in half. Although the Jones family was rich, Dominic himself had always valued reputation and family honor above all else.

Jonathan has sent a message this time. ["It looks like my dear sister-in-law likes the rich man. Is this why you wanted to get shares so badly to become rich? Are you trying to satisfy her? But alas! brother! Your wife doesn't just want a rich man, she wants a handsome man. Not a crippled and ugly person like you. The wife you were so proud of I think she will leave you very soon for some rich man. I suggest you to keep your eyes on her because if you don't keep an eye on your wife, one day she will be gone right under your nose and you can't do anything about it."]

he said thoughtfully, voice low, rough but gentle, “I’ve seen plenty of things in rooms like that. Men who don’t trust their women. Some who use them. Some who even love them enough to shield them from this life.” He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, eyes sharp and piercing. “But I’ve never seen a man try so hard to erase his wife. Like he regrets marrying her. Like she’s some ghost in his own home.” His words hit me like a slap, but I remained silent. Reaching into the breast pocket of his coat, he pulled out a small black card. It was simple, only a silver Celtic knot embossed in the center, and a delicate number written on the back. He held it out to me.

Soon I found N so I started looking nearby for the letter to find my name was hidden well with intricate designs of mehndi. I showed it to everyone. Everyone cheered for me. Shraddha was smiling. “Next one is untying the knot,” Grandma said. In wedding rituals, we both wore a sacred thread which has multiple knots. We have to untie each other’s knot of thread. We can only untie it using a single hand. Whoever does it first wins the game. It is said that the winner is the dominant partner between both of them. We both started doing it. It was tough to do it because the knot was a day old and it was wet due to the bath. In this game, Shraddha won. She untied the thread first and after her I di

Three years into our marriage, my husband, Colin Richardson, changed the username he'd used for six years. It became "AThousandAnswers." I asked him why. Colin ruffled my hair and smiled. "Doesn't your name have 'Ann' in it, silly?" I laughed. I even took a screenshot and posted it on social media with the caption: "My hopelessly unromantic husband just surprised me with the sweetest gesture." Then last weekend, I drove his car to pick up my mom. When I connected my phone to the bluetooth, another paired device popped up: "LoveHasAThousandKnots." Love Has a Thousand Knots. A Thousand Answers. My hand slipped off the steering wheel. That night, while he was in the shower, I opened t

Ava stayed in front of me protectively, ready to lunge if Zarina so much as blinked the wrong way. Zarina took a step closer, smiling cruelly. "You think throwing him a party will change anything? You think it’ll make him love you again? You're even more pathetic than I thought. You’re delusional, Anastasia. He’s already moved on." "Maybe," I said evenly. "Maybe he has. But I’m still his wife." Zarina flinched, just a little, the word wife hitting exactly where I intended it to. Her eyes flashed with fury, her hands clenching into fists. She stepped even closer, so close I could see the tremble of rage in her shoulders.

A double knot. I'd heard about them but never experienced one—when a wolf's knot swelled so large during mating that it essentially created a second point of pressure, a second lock that made separation completely impossible until it deflated naturally. It usually only happened with true fated mates, when the bond was strong enough and the compatibility perfect enough to trigger that additional response. And it was happening to us.

She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about. She was even named the town's model wife. "I never thought he'd actually show up to court. I've never seen anyone sue their own wife before." "Hazel really had terrible judgment when she was young. She built everything with him from nothing, and this is how he repays her. You really do see all kinds of people in this world." "I lived next door to him for years. He fooled everyone. Who would've guessed he was such an ungrateful piece of trash?"

Though I did enjoy watching him shirtless in the backyard working hard. One other thing is I love Kira with all my heart I wouldn’t trade my daughter for anything. She’s the light in the darkness. She is all my entire heart, well half my heart belongs to her father, though I’d never admit it. He smiles. “That wasn’t what I meant. A buddy of mine was speaking about his wife, how when we get home from, they plan to start trying for a second baby.” He tells me. I look up at him. “That’s nice…” I say confused.

I sank to the floor of the closet, the journal clutched to my chest, and finally let myself break. Not quiet tears or controlled grief, but ugly sobs that tore through my chest like claws. Because I'd had a wife who'd married me with hope. Who'd tried to love me despite everything. Who'd pressed a flower in a journal to mark what could have been the beginning of what she'd believed could be a real partnership. And I'd killed her slowly over four years of dismissal and neglect and choosing someone else again and again. I'd killed her hope first. Then I'd killed her.