Libro La Esposa Olvidada Novels & Stories

ISABELLE'S POV. “ I'm sorry but who are you? Do I know you?” Kristen asked with a confused expression and it felt like my head was about to explode. “Kristen? It's me, Isabelle, your wife.. don't you remember me?” I asked as I felt my heart beat accelerate. “ I'm sorry but I don't remember getting married..Can you please get the doctor? My legs hurt.” He calmly said but I stared at him with teary eyes.

That was why I insisted to my father that he finds a way to make sure I get together with him. And his greedy mother made it even easier to get him. If only I had known that dumb wife of his, Sofia was the brain behind his success. I only got to find out right after we got married, but I'm not going to give up on my marriage. I won't let Sofia laugh at me for snatching her husband and then failing woefully at it. “I can't let her have the last laugh. Santoro is going to have to be useful whether he likes it or not. Damn! That useless husband of mine.” I complained and sipped some wine.

She got married to a man who was wealthier than me and only returned to Florida when the man lost everything. I remember when Olivia told me Kira had gotten married and left the country with another man on the day I wanted to introduce her to my family. Olivia could not tell me the name of the man Kira had gotten married to, but in this document, I found the man's name, Oliver.

Irina snapped, flashing a trembling hand at her face, “I am so happy you have fallen to your rock bottom. Do you hear me?! Because you disgust me! And in a matter of days to weeks, everything will be clear, and you will be nothing to me!” “Oh really?” Isla purred, tilting her head like a predator circling prey, “You think you can abandon me now?” “Yes,” Irina hissed, “Watch me.” “No, mother. You can’t,” Isla smiled tauntingly. “Try me.” And suddenly, Isla leaned close, as her voice dipped so low like a formidable sound that shouldn't be heard, “Because…” Her lips curved in triumph, “…I know where your real husband is.”

An elderly man sat in a high backed chair near the window, his walking stick resting beside him. He did not turn immediately. “So,” he said at last, his voice low but firm, “you finally decided to bring her.” Adrian stepped forward. “Grandfather.” The old man turned slowly. His eyes were sharp, intelligent, and unreadable. When they settled on Isabella, they did not soften. “This is Isabella,” Adrian said. “My wife.” The word hung in the air. The old man studied her for a long moment. Isabella did not look away. She kept her posture straight, her hands calm at her sides. She had learned that silence could be strength.

Xavier looked at his wife with questioning eyes and said, “Sweetheart, you are forgetful, didn’t you tell me that you were attending your cousin’s wedding in England a year ago?” Valencia’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest. What if the Taylor family investigated their trip? She looked at her husband and replied, “I didn’t say that my love. We attended my friend’s wedding in the USA.” Xavier looked at his wife and asked, “Sweetheart, is there something that you are hiding from me?” Valencia shook her head. Her heart was beating so fast. It was clear that her husband was suspicious of her.

"Five years after the marriage, the young woman was beginning to become a woman, even if she did not allow her husband to join her. Becoming a woman was out of all options, there was no possibility of her doing something so vile and distasteful against herself. Francesca spent so much time looking for a way not to bow to that vile family from which her husband came, the young woman refused to become a woman under the protection of that blood that had never done anything to help her family. Months passed, until finally, through an oversight of her mother's maids, the young woman found an old but still well-preserved book on the table in the library of the mansion. The book was there, carefull

Eleanor could see straight into the empty executive suite from her desk. As his secretary, she had his entire calendar memorized, today included. Which meant she knew exactly where he was out on a yacht, deep-sea fishing with Cassandra. Every meeting, every deal on the books today, canceled without explanation. She remembered, with an old, familiar ache, the last time he'd done exactly this skipping her hospital bed after the miscarriage for the same trip with the same woman. "You think Julian and Cassandra actually got married already?" Karen was gossiping by the coffee machine.

Somehow, we ended up a trio instead of a couple. Whether we went out to eat or shopped, he never left our side. Even the monthly trips I planned as a couple had to include Elliot. After graduation, I proposed to Clover countless times. Every single time, she turned me down. She always said she wasn't ready. It wasn't until the events in my previous life that I finally understood the truth. Elliot never wanted her to get married, but he also refused to be with her himself. The thought made me sneer. "How could I forget you?" I said. "Clover, we're done."

“You’ve given that man three years of your light, Evelyn. Let Paris be the place you remember who you were before him.” Before Khalid. Before the whirlwind romance at the Met Gala, before I’d quietly closed my design studio to become the wife who understood his late nights and global ambitions. Before Natasha returned and I became furniture in my own marriage. I looked across the studio to the small desk where my laptop sat. The manuscript file was open. *The Husband I Once Loved*. The title still made my stomach clench. Khalid had read the first seventy pages last night. The confrontation that followed had been brutal—his hurt, my exhaustion, the way his voice cracked when he asked if I rea