My Husband Has No Hands Novels & Stories

And just like that, the hand I’d unknowingly been clutching slips from mine. "You can’t even take care of yourself properly," he mutters, voice stern. "Always crying." His fingers graze my forehead, checking for fever—but it’s that warmth that makes my chest tighten, not the touch itself. I catch his hand again, holding it to my cheek and rubbing softly as I pout. "Well, it seems my husband has made it his mission to stress his wife… what can I do?" He pulls his hand free and rises to his feet like the moment never happened.

I said. His eyes narrowed. "I'm not blind, dear wife." I ignored the sarcasm in his voice and walked toward him. He took a small step back, like he wasn't expecting me to come close on my own. I didn't know why I was doing it either. I just couldn't let those cuts get infected. Without saying a word, I reached for his hands and held them gently in mine. His hands were bigger than mine, rougher too, with calluses I hadn't expected. And warmer. Much warmer.

His expression looked grim. The doctor stood across from him, sweat gathering on his forehead. "Prince, your wife's hand injuries are severe. Once they heal, she will manage daily life without much difficulty, and normal hand use should be fine. However… the kind of high-precision, fast-paced programming she used to perform will be impossible. The bones were crushed."

It was the same hand that had starred in many memories with me, more than I could count. The sight of that hand froze my very blood in my veins immediately. That hand… That hand belonged to my husband.

It looked like there were actually maggots writhing around the severed flesh. The putrid stench and the dark ooze were both coming from the hand. My head buzzed. With a sharp shriek, I flung the box away. The object rolled out onto the floor, giving me a much clearer view. It was a man’s hand. A wedding band was still tightly fitted around the ring finger and the knuckles were violently contorted as if it had been hacked off while the victim was still alive.

It was ridiculous thinking back to it. When the house was being renovated, my father did the carpentry work. He supervised the entire process. Trevor never even thanked my father. As for the wedding gift, I never thought I had asked for too much. In fact, I thought I asked for too little. When Trevor saw that I was not responding, his tone softened. “The point of this is not about the divorce. I’m telling you that you’re lucky to be with me.” I could not hold back anymore. I slapped him across the face.

I was Victor Costa's sickly wife. He was the CEO of the Costa Group and had married me despite his family's objections. On the opening day of the Costa Foundation's centennial charity week, I passed out from low blood sugar on the livestream. My husband, Victor, was in Europe for meetings, and his sister, Isabella Costa, was sure I was faking again. But after Dr. Rossi examined me, he frowned and asked her, "She's been malnourished for a long time, and her prescription hasn't been refilled in at least three months. Doesn't anyone feed her?" The livestream comments exploded with laughter. [Mrs. Costa, malnourished? I'd sooner believe the Costa Group had gone bankrupt.] Everyone knew Victor se

My knees hit the floor and breathing became hard. “Jor…dan….” I wisped out, stretching my hand to him. But I was met with nothing, no warmth, no touch, nothing. My breathing was growing short and I was beginning to gasp for breath, yet my husband just went on till I could no longer see his backside.

I would get a chance to be with my wife for a longer time. " Er.. how is your hand?? " Manu asked me. " It is fine... " I said and smiled. " How did that happen? " She said looking at my hand. " I don't know... " I said as I didn't want to tell her. " You don't know?? How is that possible?? " she asked again but she was looking a bit stressed. But why?? " Let it be... It is not much. " " It is swollen and bruised. "

“Eh. I’ve fallen this far. I’ll take the chance of grisly death.” “And you’re trying to threaten me into rebelling. Do you think I’m stupid?” “You’re already rebelling. Up here.” He reached up to tap his forehead, and for the first time, she noticed something about his left hand: he was missing three digits, leaving only his thumb and index finger. “Lookin’ at my hand? I’ll tell you. It happened when I was a young man, newlywed. My wife was taken from me, and when I tried to hold onto her, they chopped half my hand right off. Won’t ever forget the look on her face, it was the last glimpse I ever got of her.”