My Cold Husband Novels & Stories

Nicole felt her back touch the hard surface of the door it was cold that from the atmosphere inside the room. She shivered. "Shivering...? Anticipating for my touch?" A deafening slapped connected her palm to the chiseled and handsome face of her husband. "How dare you! Expecting me to wait for you with abated breath when you are spending your time with another woman claiming to be your wife!" she furiously said.

He humbly respected my opinion and offered me this heavy duvet to cover myself from the cold while he slept there with nothing to cover himself. I am blushing so hard right now, for his kind gesture. Mr. Cold my Husband you are such a Darling. The only thing that gives me the wrong impression about you in the first place is your muscular build with your intense green eyes that seem to impose a cold demeanor on you and also seem to be scaring people around you.

she muttered under her breath. It had been four years. Four long years since they had been married, and Nash still treated her like a stranger. No matter how much she tried, no matter how many smiles she forced or how many ways she sought to win his heart, he remained unmoved. His heart, like the rest of the Hallox family, was frozen solid. For him, she had endured so much—sacrificed her own happiness and pride. And yet, in return, she got nothing but cold shoulders and silence.

My disappointment was probably written all over my face, because he held me tight and said tenderly, “I’ll try not to go overseas as much after those kids settle in. Once I start staying at home more, I’m sure we’ll have our own baby soon. Believe me.” Staring at his familiar features, I remembered how he had hugged me just like this, promising me he would come back soon… right before his flight to Switzerland. He had come back, but his heart remained in the Alps. “Alright.” I forced a smile and watched him rush away. Since the New York administrative system did not contain any records of our marriage, that meant the marriage certificate we obtained in Vegas had no effect. That saved me the

The man steps in like he owns the goddamn room, my breath stops and I can barely suck in any oxygen because it feels like he has sucked it all out of the room. “That’s Dr. Ian Quinn. Your husband.” he repeats. I frown. “My husband?” My brows draw tighter. “Why would I have such a cold insufferable man as my husband?” I hate how he looks at me with so much coldness. I saw how he hesitated to stay when he was asked to. My heart boils at the pity in their eyes. I hate the way they're looking at me like a charity case because of my incubator and sperm donor's greed.

“I’m not done talking to you. Fucking wake up and cook my food or this house will not hold the two of us “ He suddenly appeared in the bedroom , snatched the duvet from my body and pulled me out of bed . I was startled like for a moment. It hadn’t registered to me that he was dragging me out of the room. “What are you doing?’ I asked, fear evident on my face “You’ll be spending the rest of the night outside to reflect on yourself. I didn’t marry you so that I can sleep hungry. It’s my food you’re eating and now you’ve grown horns. let’s see if you can handle the cold.” he screamed as I looked at him with shock. “No, Jeff. I’m terrified of the cold. I’ll become sick!” I complained but that

“Coffee’s already made,” Gabriel called out from the kitchen, his voice unusually chipper. Andrea stepped out of the bedroom, towel still draped around her shoulders. “Wow. That’s new.” He grinned, leaning against the counter in a crisp polo shirt. “Trying to be a better husband. Fresh start, right?” She blinked, caught off guard by his lightness. “Fresh start?” “Yeah,” he said, walking over and planting a quick kiss on her temple. “Got a lot on my mind during the trip. Made me realize I’ve been… distant.”

"Relax. I told them the owner is more stubborn than solid rock. And that I had no interest in being slapped by my own wife just for casually selling off my in-laws’ company." I scoffed softly. "You’re never serious." "But I married seriously," he replied. "Very seriously. Look—I even endured that half-raw steak tonight without complaining, just to look like a sophisticated husband." I chuckled. And like so many nights before, in that silence, I caught another glimpse of Hugo’s most elusive side—the man who could be cold as code, yet warm as a room in winter... when he was with me. And tonight, he was with me.

A cold voice suddenly caught my attention. We both turned back and I came to see a familiar face. I was feeling drowsy so I had to blink twice to make out his face. “Who are you supposed to be?” the man asked. “Her husband.” He muttered, his eyes red with fury. “Oh, husband,” I smiled sheepishly, hoping off the stool. “You… You are here!” I poked at his chest through his suit, making sure he was real. I staggered and he caught me in his arms immediately. “Wow, you are so strong… and angry.” I giggled. T. B. C!

I bit my lip, hesitating for a moment before my fingers finally began typing. Rabbit: My husband is very cold. Our marriage was arranged. We've been married for two years, but he's hardly ever shown any feelings for me. I want to try to make him fall in love with me... but I honestly have no idea where to start. Do you have any advice? I hit send and held my breath. To my surprise, I was genuinely nervous. A few moments later, Tiger replied. Tiger: An arranged marriage with a cold husband? That's a classic case. Men like that usually don't open their hearts because of sweet words or expensive gifts.