My Random Husband Is My Ex Worst Nightmare Novels & Stories

I asked. “Out. You didn’t think I’d live under the same roof as you, did you? Get it through your head, Stick-Figure: we’re not, and never will be, husband and wife.” “Thanks for the ‘Stick-Figure’…” I tried to find a silver lining in his words. “Olívia, marrying me will be your worst nightmare. You’ll regret the day you were born, Stick-Figure!” With that, he slammed the door, making me jump.

Jimena retorted, looking at him with distaste. “Well, for some reason, three of you are married to us. We must have that je ne sais quoi that drives the Gutiérrez women crazy,” he said with a proud grin. “Conceited idiot.” She grumbled, eliciting laughter from her husband, who got out of bed and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Let go of me, you moron!” She squirmed in his embrace, which only made him hold her tighter. Pablo placed a loud kiss on her neck, which only made her angrier. “Let go, Pablo!” she growled. He slowly released her and turned her to face him.

Leaning in until his breath tickled my ear, he murmured huskily, "Your body doesn’t tempt me, my ugly wife." The words hit me like a cold slap. My eyes flew open, and the dream shattered. Reality came crashing down. I was back in my room, drenched in sweat, haunted by yet another fantasy that could never be real. I wiped my forehead and let out a bitter laugh, mocking myself. "I dream about the man who despises me, the man who happens to be my husband." Dragging myself out of bed, I stood before the mirror. My long hair framed my face, cascading down my back. Emerald-green eyes stared back at me, filled with sorrow. I was beautiful by most standards, but to Areen, I was ugly.

“Spit it out already. I’ve got to prepare for my husband. I know you don’t understand that.” She chuckled maniacally and I stared at her not getting it. “The same husband that spent the weekend with me or are we talking about another one?” I almost choked on my drink. “Stop trying to create chaos in my home because you don’t have one.” I said with my eyes glued at hers. “Of course, you wouldn’t believe me. You trust him that much. Take this.” She threw an envelope at me. I stared at her warily then I began to tear it open. It was a test result.

“I almost forgot. I saw some news.” Confusion washed through me, tangled with the relief that he wasn’t yelling about the spoon. But the way he said it, the cruel delight on his face, made my stomach twist. “N-news?” I stammered, my voice faltering. “Yes, news.” He stepped into the room again, taking slow steps toward me. His eyes lit with twisted amusement. “About you. About your darling husband. Seems the whole world thinks you’re nothing but a gold-digging whore.”

My husband is not, as I've believed for the past two years, a corporate consultant who travels frequently for boring meetings in boring cities. My husband is a killer. I should be terrified. I should be calling the police, packing a bag, running as far and as fast as I can from the man I've been sleeping next to every night without knowing what he really is. But I'm not terrified. I'm not running. I'm aroused.

my best friend, Jade, yelled over the bass of the club. I picked up the shot glass. The salt burned. The lime stung. The liquid felt like a controlled demolition of my last three years of misery. Being married to Dominic was like being married to a very handsome, very expensive marble statue. He was perfect to look at. He was impossible to talk to. And he was absolutely freezing to the touch. "To the ex-husband from hell," I toasted, slamming the glass down. "May he find a nice robot to spend the rest of his life with."

We were just two people existing in the same space, miles apart. Eventually, the conversation drifted backwards, landing on a memory from before the marriage. It was a summer evening at a gallery opening, long before the contracts were signed and the coldness had set in. It was a good memory, one of the few we hadn't let the bitterness touch. "I remember that night," I said, my voice low. "The air conditioning had failed, and you were trying to pretend the heat wasn't ruining your dress." Sera let out a soft, melodic laugh. "You were actually present that night, Roman. You weren't checking your watch every five minutes."

When Maya heard that, she hurried over with a glass of water and told him to sit on the couch and rest. During dinner, Maya kept piling food onto Randy's plate until it was heaped with dishes. Meanwhile, all I had in front of me was a plate of celery, something I had never liked. I took a deep breath, forced down the pain in my chest, and tested him. "Where's your girlfriend? Why didn't you bring her?" Randy set down his fork and gave me a meaningful look. "Because her husband wouldn't let her." My expression darkened as I looked him straight in the eye. "Since when did you start sleeping with married women? Aren't you afraid that someday your actions will come back to haunt you?"

It's just that my work today isn't letting me take much rest. Elizabeth POV I don't know why but something in me is telling me that the worst is coming. I don't know what or why but it's coming for sure. The day time was over and I lay in bed beside my husband as usual. After falling asleep, a terrible nightmare comes along. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" I screamed myself awake. "What is the problem?! What happened?!" My husband asked. My scream woke him from sleep. "Thank goodness you are still here! I thought I... I lost you..." I said.