Mae Whitman Husband Novels & Stories

I never knew ma even had those types of conversations. "Ma, how many of those did you have?" "What? It's cranberry." "With a fifth of goose." "Shut it Sophia, snitch." I just shook my head; it never fails. "Where the hell is your husband anyway?" "Probably right behind you." Ma was ten sheets to the bloody wind with Sophia not far behind and that damn Anna was smiling like always. Whatever, their husbands could deal with their shit. I had my hands full as it is with my little pain in the ass.

Actually, it was longer than that, after all they had grown up together. “You can go home first!” With a look of disgust, he turned and walked out of the private corner where he had dragged her from the crowd. Macey stood, trying to compose herself. Their marriage had been one of convenience, more or less. Her father was a veteran and served in Vietnam. There he met and saved the life of Augustus DaLair. After coming home, her father suffered severe PTSD. Her mother, a nurse, encouraged him to use art as therapy and it worked. Slowly, he pieced himself together, married and started a family.

None of her other family members came either. “Why didn’t anyone come? Didn’t they know I was getting discharged today?” she said aloud to her father, who was walking ahead without turning back. “You are here,” a voice said as they entered the living room. It was Mr. Whitemere’s sister, Marta. Mr. Whitemere hummed tiredly and walked to the couch before sitting down heavily. The past few days had been exhausting for him. He didn’t know where his wife was. He didn’t know what she was thinking, especially since he believed she had found out the truth.

“Did they end up liking him?” “Well, I supposed they never saw much of him to like him. We got married right away and we lived in a small place of our own right in the village for about seventeen months, then he was called up to fight and he never came home. I couldn’t keep the home with just my earnings, so I lived with my parents again, but when I became your mothers handmaid I then lived here... and that is my story, my dear”. “Maude... I’m sorry about what happened to your husband, I can’t imagine that loss”.

A faint smile rose upon his lips as I shielded myself from Veles's prying eyes. "Wife, you call me. Do you really see yourself fit to call my husband? My soulmate? When you have done nothing but caused me pain!" I snarled, backing away. My sepia orbs settled on his bright ones, his gaze wild, he suddenly looked every inch of monster who did not ponder twice before masticating my whole family, he represented a warrior, a beast. "Watch your mouth, butterfly. I may not be kind enough to listen to your words," he took a threatening step towards my direction. "But I can assure you how much of a husband I can be."

I worked three part-time jobs just to get him into a good one. As for Evangeline, after she gave birth, she checked herself into a luxury postpartum retreat that cost over 4,000 dollars a night and stayed there for about a month. I hadn't dared to ask her, thinking that she'd hooked up with some rich businessman and didn't dare to tell me. As it turned out, the person she'd hooked up with wasn't anyone else. No, it was my very husband who had pretended to be a broke, good-for-nothing nobody in front of me.

The maid looked at Madeline with suspicion and then said straightforwardly, “I like Mr. Whitman, and I hope to develop a relationship with him.” Madeline knew that this maid had fallen in love with Jeremy at first sight, but she still put on a look as if Madeline had come to a realization. “I see. So you like Mr. Whitman. But there is something I have to tell you. Mr. Whitman is married, and he has a wife.” “A wife?” The maid looked surprised. “How could it be? If Mr. Whitman has a wife, why didn’t he bring his wife to the wedding?”

Carwyn Levi brought Grainne and mother and daughter home, and then went home. At night, Grainne, after putting her son to sleep, kept tossing and turning, the scene beside Carwyn Levi in ​​the morning kept appearing in her head. When the ball broke, that intimate embrace made Grainne still feel like he still had the faint masculine scent on him. Grainne! No more dreaming! He's a married man! She reminded herself, sighed softly, and slowly drifted off to sleep. The next day, Grainne was at work when she received a phone call from teacher Mary.

But my efforts still fell short because his heart remained closed, and he had no intention of opening it to let me in. Now that Maureen has returned, I fear I might lose my place in his life. This is what my husband used to repeatedly tell me: he would leave me after a year, and his parents couldn't do anything to change his mind. He told me that enduring a year with me was enough. "Come inside," my mother-in-law invited me. "I think it would be best to make the most of him not remembering anything. Take care of him as you've been doing. This way, he might eventually fall in love with you."

Of course I knew him. Everyone did. His face was impossible to avoid. Even hearing his name made people lower their voices. Mia stared at me for another second before laughing. “I can’t believe this. You truly have no idea who your husband is?” My throat felt dry. The truth settled over me piece by piece. Because the man I had married was Damian Hawthorne. The former military commander.