Libro Esposa Olvidada Novels & Stories

“Those two years when your legs were paralyzed—yes, I wasn’t by your side. But why? Because I was out finding a cure for you! “I went into the hottest deserts, battling sandstorms and blistering heat to find the plants needed for extracting those medicinal compounds. My team and I were nearly swallowed by quicksand. We faced storms that almost killed us. But I never backed down because I wanted you healed. I wanted the research to succeed more than anyone else. “And what about you? While I was risking my life for you, what were you up to? You were sleeping with my cousin. You hid it from me for two years! And you even used ‘business trips’ as an excuse to marry her in America!

“You’re not… you’re not talking about me and Leilani, are you?” Lorenzo’s lips curved into something sharp. “You’re far too impatient, Jonathan. I’m not done with my story.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “The husband, in his arrogance, thought it wise to discard the woman who had given him everything. So he did. And do you know who was waiting for her that night? Who trailed the cab she cried in?” Jonathan shot to his feet, hands slamming onto the desk. “You…!” Lorenzo’s gaze never wavered. He remained calm, “You pushed your wife right into my hands, Jonathan.” His voice softened, almost a whisper. “Wife? No. Your ex-wife.”

I opened the notepad app on my phone and saw the message I had written to myself: "Alice is your wife. The woman close to you is your wife. She has your child. You have memory loss, so don't forget." I stared at the words, confusion swirling in my mind. Was this Alice? What in the confusion and absurdity is this. Another alarm rang, and I checked my phone again. This time, the reminder told me to check the notebook beside me. I picked it up, and my eyes scanned the pages filled with the same message: "Alice is your wife...". My heart skipped a beat as I turned to the woman beside me. She was beautiful, but how could I forget that she might be my wife? I felt a pang of guilt and confusion.

“You took a severe blow to head, Olivia. It seems you’ve suffered some memory loss. We’re going conduct a detailed neurological examination to assess brain function, okay?” “Okay,” I said softly. The doctor checked my reflexes, muscle strength, coordination, and sensory responses. Everything functioned well except my memory. With Vera’s help, they determined I remembered my childhood and college years, but the last few years were mostly gone. Specifically, memories of a husband I’d had—the Alexander that Vera had spoken about—were no longer with me. “Well, it might be a good thing that you don’t remember that jerk anyway,” Vera said. “Why?” I asked, thinking a husband was definitely somethin

If I didn’t know that man was my husband—the father of my baby—I would have sworn they were a couple, happy and in love. “Isabella Caruso? The doctor is ready for your examination,” the nurse called. Vincent turned, his face drained of color, his eyes scanning the hallway. He must have heard my name. When his eyes landed on me, his mouth opened, but no words came out. I had been happily married to Vincent Falcone, my mafia husband, for nearly ten years. This year, I was finally pregnant with his child. He of all people should know how difficult is for me to have the baby now. How could he do this to me?

After Dominic Hatch loses his memories, he refuses to believe that I'm his wife. "If you really are my wife, why is it that there aren't any photos of us together?" I explain to him that he doesn't like taking photos. That's why we didn't even have a wedding portrait of us. But soon, Dominic digs out nine thick and heavy photo albums from a hidden compartment in his safe. The main characters in those albums are him and another unfamiliar woman. There are countless photos documenting their journey—from they were still children to when they had completely grown up. The pure and innocence on their faces slowly give way to the sappy love and affection they have for each other. In fact, Domi

Like I was desperate for him to love me. The sound of the front door opening cut through the silence, making my heart jump. I smoothed down my dress quickly before hurrying toward the foyer. “Ethan?” “In here.” His voice sounded distracted. Tired, almost. I rounded the corner with a smile already forming. But once again, it faded as soon as I saw the woman standing beside him. Vivian Laurent, my husband's favorite accessory. She was his newest executive consultant, and had been working closely with him for months now.

But this word belongs to you. Thank you for reading The Wife I Forget To Love. Thank you for choosing Helena’s story out of every story you could have chosen. Thank you for staying all the way to Always. With every bit of gratitude I have You can try out my new book the wife I swore I would never be on good novel Your Author. Spli_vena

A week had changed so much of my memory that I was more focused on the bad than on any of the good that had actually happened during my marriage. Olivia smiled as she greeted everyone, settling effortlessly into the seat beside Adrian. Not once did she ask where I was. Not once. As though I were never a thought, never someone who belonged here. Maybe that was the worst part. Nobody seemed to find it strange. Nobody asked why Adrian’s wife wasn’t sitting at the table. Nobody wondered why I was upstairs while another woman occupied the seat beside my husband. It was as if they had all quietly agreed that Olivia belonged there and I didn’t.

His wife…? He remembers he was having a fight with his wife and she runs away. He remembers going after her but then he cannot remember anything. He realizes that he lost consciousness somehow and he is alone in the cottage now and his wife is nowhere around. The rainfall has stopped by now. He tries to go look for her to see if she has returned. He suddenly remembers there was blood in his head. He touches his head to see if he is still bleeding. He finds out that he is not bleeding at all. Surprisingly, all the blood is gone. He thinks maybe she has returned. Just when he is about to leave the room, he finds a diary. He did not see this diary last day. Where did it come from? The diary loo