My Distinguished Wife And Humble Me Novels & Stories

Unflinching. “She is my wife.”

As if reading my mind, Dante says, "You're my wife. We are in this together now" "Now you want to acknowledge that I'm your wife you bastard?" ******************************************

Everyone raises their head and looks at her. "I am sorry for yesterday's drama, thank you all for being here for us, in our hardest time and happiest time. We are grateful because, without you guys, even my husband can't do it all on his own. Thank you all" she said for everyone to clap their hands. "To the love of my life... you changed my life, you cleaned my tears, you raised me to the extent that I never imagined and you gave me the most beautiful gifts in the world. I love you Damien Willington, I love you so much. I know.......

“Besides, my wife is more delicious.” THE END!

Those words held much more meaning than any 'I love you. Warmth bloomed in my chest as I looked up at her. Gently pulling her down for another kiss, I whispered in reply, "Just a few more days and I can finally be able to officially call you my wife." My one and only queen.

I corrected him gently, trying to keep the mood light even as my heart ache Damian’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer than before, and I caught my breath, unsure what to say next. “So,” he began, voice hesitant, “what else am I supposed to remember about you? About us?” I smiled gently, searching for the right words. “That we’ve been through a lot together. That I’m your wife. And that I’m here to help you find your way back.” He blinked, as if tasting the word ‘wife’ for the first time. “Wife. That sounds… serious.” “It is,” I said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

"Here it is: I don't just love my wife – I burn for her" The hall exploded.

“Someone brilliant, capable, and completely deserving of every bit of respect you received tonight.” Isabella smiled softly, reaching for my hand across the seat. “Thank you for introducing me the way you did tonight,” she said quietly. “As your wife, not just your business partner.” “You’ve always been my wife,” I said, echoing words I had told her before, though tonight they felt more true than ever. “Tonight, everyone else finally saw that too.”

My roommate, John Swift, asked in shock, “Pete, are you throwing that away? I thought you cherished that photo a lot.” I shook my head and cut Bella out of the family portrait. I tore it into pieces. John seemed to understand. “Pete, is your wife alive?” I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a text two weeks ago. [Bella’s still alive.] There was a photo attached to the message. It was a selfie of Bella and Carlson. Two weeks ago, I found out that my wife, who had supposedly been dead for five years, was still alive. When I first found out the news, I could not even sleep.

Did I hear that right? She was threatening me? Ever since we got married, I worked from home and barely showed up at the company. She figured I was jobless, living off her—throwing me a thousand bucks a month so I wouldn't starve. I never touched it. Everything I wore, everything I owned—it was all custom. She just couldn't tell. So to her, I was just some stray waiting for scraps. "Talia, I'm not interested in your pocket change."