My Husband Who Hates Me Novels & Stories

The Maxton I knew was back; the one I was married to, that made me fear the existence of men. He barely ate the food I prepared with a lot of hope, prayer and my whole heart. All he did was play with it and smiled stupidly while staring at his phone. …Father, I tried my best! I tried to win him over. Tried to do the dirtiest thing couples do, but he wouldn't oblige. Why does he hate me so much!? Why was he still staying with me and hasn't even said a nice word to me!? What was my mistake!? My vision was getting blurry, tears trickled down my face as I watched the beast come on top of me… At last, he has succumbed to my will. However, I am now so powerless, like a wounded lion.

He stared at me, as if he was waiting for me to tell him it was all a joke, that I was fine with him doing whatever it was that he wanted. I didn’t, I didn’t even falter as I stared at him. If he thinks this was one of those altercations, he was wrong. A thousand times I have looked away, but this time, I wasn’t going to let that happen. He could do it a thousand places away from the house, which was my home, my sanctuary. “I don’t like the tone of your voice,” he said in a low tone. “Well, I don’t like the fact that my husband is sleeping with people in the house,” I hissed.

For the past seven years, I was simply not the one he loved. In that single moment, seven years of marriage became an absolute joke.

"Huh... do I even know you anymore? You're not the man I got married to just yesterday, you're not the man I dated for more than two years." "And you're not the woman I also got married to." He yelled. "You can watch tv, am going to bed." He angrily leaves the living room. I felt the need to make my husband happy and sex is just the way to get relieved of the argument we just had. I stripped down to nothing and joined him in the room, no man can resist a naked woman no matter his mood. We made love but he hates the woman in the top position because it makes him feel less a man.

Somehow Ehi had begun to hate her husband. Every single thing about him grated on her nerves: the way he smelled, the way he looked, the way he smiled like a fool whenever he drank beer. Even the word "babe" slipping out of his mouth made her stomach churn, and his incessant snoring at night was enough to make her want to smother him with a pillow. After five years of marriage, he had become a walking irritation, a lifeless shell that reminded her of someone plucked from The Walking Dead.

"My mother died without closing her eyes. She did not want to let a beast like you live in this world. My mother was your official wife, but you forced my mother to commit suicide so that you could marry Daria. I am your daughter, and now I have been turned into a stepchild. Do you think I hate you and Daria?" Aretha's eyes were filled with anger. She looked at the man in front of her with hatred, the man she once called her father. But does he deserve all those good things? Aretha hates Oscar, hates Daria, and even Jenny. Without Daria, Aretha's mother would not have been forced to die, Aretha would not have become an orphan, and she would have had a happy family. But Oscar ruined it all. A

"You told me all the feelings you had in your heart about me. You took it and you said it yourself. That's why I came to you yesterday." Seriously he was informing her about last night. "Shut up, I'll tell you something like that, by no means the person I hate the most in the world. I'll tell you myself that you are the number one liar. I found out today, I hate you." “Well, kill me, you, every day you come close to me, hatred has started to come to me, I have no other job for myself, there are many more things in the relationship of husband and wife, which are sincere love, loyalty to each other. But you probably know the same meaning of being a husband, you should get your wife's body ever

I have just made sure that Vittoria will now hate me, because that will make things eaiser. God, I really am a horrible husband.

I love my husband even though he doesn't recognize me as his wife. Fuck this stupid heart.

And now I was standing at the altar alone while my new husband descended the stairs without me, and the only thing keeping me from saying something extremely inappropriate in a house of God was the knowledge that the media had not been invited to the church portion of today’s events. Small mercies. Ian Lawson had just given me approximately hundred new reasons to hate him. I picked up my skirt. I walked down the stairs after him. And I promised myself, with the quiet certainty of someone who had been never been underestimated their entire life and had learned exactly what to do with that — that every single one of those hundred reasons would be addressed. In time. On my terms. He had no idea