My Husband Died In Front Of Me の小説・ストーリー

He inserted his dick into me and began to move fast and rough movements. When he did what he wanted, he left me motionless on the floor. "Hope you die slowly and painfully, bitch." he said and spat at me. The only thing I could see was that his partner Michael was standing up. Apparently the wound was only superficial. "Tom .." "Come on, Mike, let's get out of here. This bitch is dead anyway," he looked at me, knowing I was on the verge of death. They left me to die alone and helpless in that shack. He killed my husband in front of me. I stood there for hours, praying to die.

He wasn't even able to eat the chicken that day and kept spacing out. And the next morning, she met him right in front of the television watching the news... And it was while she stood behind him that she she saw the news splashed on it that her daughter's husband passed away the night before... She had been watching from behind him but she was able to clearly make out that he hadn't seemed shocked or hurt by the news...

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his childhood buddies talking through the open window.

I stood there in the middle of the hallway, alone, watching my husband carry another woman to safety while my grandmother lay dying behind a set of double doors. The silence of the hospital closed in around me, cold and absolute. I didn't cry

By the time I made it to the hospital, he was already gone. Weeks of relentless work and heartache had taken their toll. I collapsed, coughing up blood. From that day forward, I was bedridden with a severe illness. To make matters worse, my mother-in-law kept my condition a secret from my parents and took me in, only to let the illness run its course without treatment. As I lay dying, a news flash on the TV announced the winner of a 15 million-dollar lottery jackpot—it was my late husband. There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa.

I couldn't help but find this whole thing a farce when I saw Penny scramble for a way out. I almost laughed. Before she finished speaking, I cut her off without hesitation, "My husband died five years ago." Penny's smile slipped off her face, and bewilderment filled her eyes. I continued coolly, "It was a sudden death. His health was already stretched thin, to begin with. He worked hard to afford my son's medical treatment, and one day, he collapsed at work. There's no one else living at home aside from me and my visually impaired son."

“You little troublemaker.” His mother stood beside them, watching with a warm, satisfied smile. I stood not far away, fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Blood dripped down, but I did not feel a thing. One of them was my husband — Cedric Foster — the man I had been told died eight years ago during a mission. The other was his mother, who was supposed to be in a long-term care facility as a vegetative patient. Yet here they were — alive, well, and building a new family with another woman.

Because Death had chosen him. I remembered the funeral very clearly. There were flowers everywhere, bouquets upon bouquets. Everyone had brought flowers and people stood and cried at his loss. The ceremony was beautiful, though. People were crying and smiling at the same time like he had been the sun, the moon and the stars all wrapped up together into a shining being called my husband, the King. And then his coffin was lowered into the ground and people moved on with their lives. It was as if I heard a snap of fingers jolting me out of memory lane and bringing me back to reality. I blinked away the memory of the past years. I looked at the portrait hanging next to me and my heart ached pain

I bit into the blood capsule and suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. That did it. Everett and Tom screamed in terror. "I've been trying to find the right time to tell you. I'm sorry, Everett… I might not be able to grow old with you after all." His eyes were wide as he stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. I steadied myself, then let my body slam to the ground and lost consciousness.

The emptiness in my stomach seemed to crack wider, making me feel hollow. The doctor sighed, “ no one believed you would survive, it's been a three days and your husband–the acting president, he was sad to come see you and had announced you dead” My blood froze. Disbelief. Announced me dead? Refused to see me? Maybe, he must have been sad, maybe I was overthinking it, the breakfast was genuine, he loves me. He would be happy to see me. He would be happy to know I was still alive.