My Husband Chose His First Love Over Me Novels & Stories

Rowoon’s soft breathing filled the room, a comforting reminder of everything they’d built together. This was it. This was their home. Their lives. “I love you,” Alessa whispered, looking at him, “I love too, my love”. And thus concludes the tale of "My Husband Hates Me," a journey that began with hate but blossomed into a story of love. ~~~~~~@~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~ END *@*@* If you guys want I can write another story about their son Roowon but the story will be completly different than this story.

His hands trembled as he reached for mine, but I stepped back. “I swear my love was real,” he said desperately. “The pressure was there, yes. My father made it clear that refusing would have consequences for Voss Holdings. But choosing you? That was mine. I fought for you. I still am.” I stared at him, the man I had once loved with every part of myself. The grief over Bean still lingered between us, raw and tender. But this new truth — the confirmation that our marriage had been partially purchased — felt like the final fracture.

I thought he would look at me and realize how cruel he had been. But he did not. Instead, he turned toward Liliana. “Come inside,” he said quietly. Liliana glanced at me once before she nodded. Damian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the cabin. Neither of them looked back. I stood there alone, humiliated and abandoned by my husband. The lake breeze brushed against my skin, but I barely felt it. My husband had chosen another woman, not only that. He had finally said what everyone else had been whispering from the beginning.

He was letting me look through the window of his soul, to see every broken part of him. He was letting me see that he loved me. “You're the first person I chose to open up to. The first person I chose to love” he rested his forehead on mine. His eyes were squeezed tightly. “You'll be the only one Calista. You're my wife. Till death do us part.” My eyes fogged. My heart swelled. I kissed the side of his face, he caught my lips, and kissed me back with the passion only one in love could possess.

Doubt rushed in. What if he was right? What if Travis was only being kind because he had nothing better to do, and would get tired of my complicated life — my daughter, my marriage, my mess? Then I remembered that night in my kitchen. How close he'd come to kissing me, and how he was the one who stopped. *"Not like this. Not while you're still married. You deserve to make that choice clearly."* Victor had never once stopped himself for me. When he wanted something, he took it.

In the scuffle, she scratched my skin, leaving a few bloody marks While safeguarding the thermos with one hand, I used the other one to protect my belly. "I'm Grady's first love," came her response. "When I went abroad to study, he promised he'd wait for me. I had no idea he was already married. So, who are you to think you can replace me?" So, she was Melissa Angeles, the lover Grady had when he studied abroad. She pushed me so hard that I fell to the ground, the thermos rolling away beside me. I was just inches away from tumbling down the stairs, so I reached for the banister.

I turned to look at him. For a moment, I didn’t answer. I just stared at him. All I did was look at the man whom I called my husband. There was no love in his eyes towards me. Nothing that reminded me of the man I had stood across from years ago, promising forever like it actually meant something. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered. I stepped out of the car without responding to him. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today?” he added as he came around to my side.

"It's just the two of us." His fingers slid along her back, pulling her closer. "Maybe I can't resist my first love." That's it. She's his first love. Even I—the wife—can't compete. "How about Ayah? If she knows you went here and kissed me, she'll surely be mad at you," she said softly. My husband ran his hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "This is wrong. No," he said breathlessly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But fate played a cruel trick, bringing his first love back on the same day. I looked at my reflection in the mirror—red-rimmed eyes and a pale complexion stared back at me. Well, Mallory was wrong about one thing. Though my marriage to Ashton had started as a business arrangement, over the course of these five years, I had grown to care for him. For the first two years of our marriage, we treated each other with politeness, maintaining a distance. Nothing intimate happened between us. I knew his heart still belonged to Mallory back then.

The night we get married, Hugo Lambert caresses the burn on my shoulder and says, "They said you risked your life to go into the fire and save Hayden back then. I didn't believe them, but now it seems like they were telling the truth." He smiles bitterly. "So, in your eyes, I'm nothing more than a stand-in for him." Before I can explain, he silences me with a kiss. After a night of passion, I just assume he's jealous and teasing me. But after that night, Hugo starts seeing other women and never comes home again. Even when my father, Bernard Colgan, is on his deathbed, Hugo is still spending the night with his mistress, Janelle Langdon. I call him for the first time in three years. "Hug