Mae Whitman Husband Novels & Stories

her father said, looking at the certificate to see the name. "My husband, obviously." Mr. Reid ran his hands through his hair, frustration etched across his face. "You married a complete stranger?" He picked up the marriage certificate and read it again. "Adrian Hayes…" He looked at her. "Who is he? Some nobody?” Mr. Reid searched his memory, but the name meant nothing to him. If Adrian Hayes belonged to any influential family, he would have recognized it immediately. Instead, all he saw was an unfamiliar surname attached to the man who had ruined months of careful planning.

I picked up the photo and saw it was a photo of Martha and a stern-looking man with a thick mustache and eyebrows. “That was Miss Martha’s husband,” Albert explained. “My great-grandfather, right?” Amy asked. “No, that is Robert Richardson, her second husband,” Alfred explained. “She remarried a year after she was widowed.” “Is he …um …dead?” Amy asked. “Oh, yes,” Alfred said. For many years now.” He hung the picture back on the nail on the wall. “It’s strange. Miss Martha would never have had this photo in her rooms.” “Why not?” I asked.

Because of all this, I thought that marrying a woman who stayed at home would be ideal, so that my children would never go through what I went through, and Maitê was the perfect woman to be my wife. I dated that bitch for a short time and when I got married, I thought everything was going to be wonderful, I treated her like a queen, I gave her everything she asked for and she always treated me like shit, everything I did wasn't good and the sex was crap, she always had excuses, I traveled a lot and when I came back, I was dying to have sex and she always had excuses, after all, she gave it to everyone when I wasn't around.

He didn't even recognize me. When he started to look closer, Evelyn quickly blocked his view. "Babe, this shameless woman keeps saying she's your wife!" Then, she pouted and cried harder. "I'm only thinking about your reputation." Adrian wiped her tears with tender care. "Don't get upset. People like her aren't worth it. You're pregnant, remember? You wanted that painting from the House of Wexley, right? I'll get it for you. Be good." His words humiliated me. I never imagined that after just three years abroad, Adrian would already have an illegitimate child.

She was breathing. “Mistress Evelyn? Are you alright? You screamed.” Evelyn’s head snapped toward the voice. Standing by the door of the sunlit bedroom was Martha, her family’s old housekeeper. Martha looked exactly as she had a decade ago, her hair more gray than white, her apron pristine, her face free of the deep lines of grief that had etched themselves after Evelyn’s parents passed away. “Martha?” Evelyn’s voice was hoarse, a fragile whisper.

And as I laughed, tears began streaming down my face. Six years. I'd silently held this family together for six whole years. Because of me, my husband, Grayson Strickland, was free to stay far away from his sick mother's bedside, free of any worries, and live his refined and admired life as Prof. Strickland. What I never expected, however, was that while he claimed he was too busy to give me a wedding, he'd already become another woman's perfect husband behind my back. And that woman was Callista Whitman—the same woman who had once sweetly called me "Mrs. Strickland".

Our words were getting more colourful the more we talked, and we forgot about the woman who can snap our necks in a second if she wished to. "Low class really? That's all you could come up with, Sweetie? listen here, at this moment I doubt you could have an erection at all, otherwise why would I be here as your wife?" Okay, that time I really pushed his buttons, and I could see my name written on a tombstone. 'Here lies Sophia Kathlyn Stademan, married for an hour, and died in the hands of her husband.' Is it too long? I think so but at this moment I swear that's what I imagined.

“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!

she apologized. Mae smiled. "It's okay, ma'am. It doesn't hurt anymore. When I think and talk about my husband, there is no pain anymore because I have already moved on." "Did your husband contact you lately?" Sherry asked. Mae shook her head. "Not anymore, ma'am. We lost contact with each other. I don't know where he is right now. But I'm sure that he is currently with his mistress and living a happy life with her."

Rob explains. “Family doesn’t keep a secret like that,” Max says in a low voice. He takes my hand, “Come with me, my love.” “I’m glad this is working out for you,” says Rob. “I was a little worried that you wouldn’t accept your wife. Granma and Grampa did well picking your mom and your aunt.” “Stay away from me and my wife,” Max replies. He pulls me away from Rob.