Novel & Cerita My Wife Is Ugly

“Who is your real wife, Gabriel?” ~ Gabriel blinked, as if the question punched the air out of him. “Celina,” he said softly, almost a plea. “Please, let’s not do this here.” She stepped back, her voice rising, shaky but firm. “Answer me!.” “I’m your husband,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “That’s the only truth that matters right now.” She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not an answer, Gabriel. That’s a deflection. I’ve seen the photos. The gala. The magazine article. ‘Power couple,’ right? Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Reyes.”

"If you're that desperate, go hump a stick." She froze, color draining from her face. She couldn't wrap her head around it. She was reaching out to her husband, and he hit her with "no shame"? Lucia didn't sleep a second. Buried under the covers, she scrolled through a forum on her phone: [The pain of a sexless marriage. What should I do if my husband's never touched me since we got married?] Some replies hinted maybe he was into guys. Others wondered if he just... couldn't.

“But, how is it that you were married to her all these years and didn’t even know what she liked to eat? That’s pretty pathetic for a husband…” “Ex-husband,” Adam corrected with a smirk. “What about you?” I snapped, glaring at Arlington. “Your pathetic pining for my wife from a distance, for years, has clearly gotten you nowhere. Talk about pathetic…” Arlington froze for a moment before smiling politely. “Not so distant, I admit.” “You are not the father of my child,” I replied, stepping aside for a nurse who had come down the corridor. “And neither are you, Adam.” “You’re sure of that?” Adam asked, crossing his arms. “How many times have you slept with Alice over the years? A dozen? Less?”

“Don’t look down on me. As much as I care about both of you, you should show me some respect.” “This has nothing to do with disrespect. I will always respect you, but I won’t stand by and watch you belittle my husband for something you advised him to do.” “When my advice didn’t work, why didn’t he come up with his solution? Or are his ideas that bland?” Ashley facepalmed. For three years, she had been enjoying her marriage—having fun, with everything seeming to go well. But just like that, it all came crashing down the moment they visited the art gallery and spotted her there.

My roommate, John Swift, asked in shock, “Pete, are you throwing that away? I thought you cherished that photo a lot.” I shook my head and cut Bella out of the family portrait. I tore it into pieces. John seemed to understand. “Pete, is your wife alive?” I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a text two weeks ago. [Bella’s still alive.] There was a photo attached to the message. It was a selfie of Bella and Carlson. Two weeks ago, I found out that my wife, who had supposedly been dead for five years, was still alive. When I first found out the news, I could not even sleep.

He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Lena is not a slave, and I need her to…” “Go” he cuts me off. “The woman would not be leaving.” “But…” “That’s final. Now leave Maria.” Walter roars with laughter along with the scantily dressed women perched on his laps. “Dear me! I’ve heard about the way you discipline the women in your household, but I didn’t think it extended to even your wife.” Cheeks burning in humiliation, I hurry out of the room with Walter’s maid before Sebastain can say something worse.

’ ‘The most eligible bachelor in P city is not a bachelor at all. ‘No wonder he never had any scandals. He had been a married man all along.’ ‘I smell a conspiracy.’ ‘Me too. It seems too coincidental a time for this piece of a bombshell to come out.’ ‘Agreed, there is something else going on here.’ ‘Maybe his wife is so ugly that he is too ashamed to reveal her.’ ‘Maybe he was forced into a sham marriage for benefits. He never acknowledged his wife.’ ‘That sure sounds like something that happens in the upper class.’

A week ago, the news broke that I'd filed a lawsuit against my wife of more than 20 years, Hazel Cooper, the woman who had shared my bed and my life for over half my adulthood. From that moment on, I became the neighborhood's favorite villain. Everyone called me the heartless man who had climbed his way to success and abandoned his wife and child without remorse. In their eyes, Hazel was flawless. She'd married me when I was poor and struggling. She never complained, even when life was hard. She cared for my sickly mother until her final days. She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about.

“I don’t want to listen! Don’t you understand? If I give in, if I admit I’m sick, then I’m not the man I’ve been my whole life. I’m not Jason Carlisle. I’m… less.” Her eyes filled. She went to him, kneeling by his chair. She took his hand, pressing it to her heart. “Listen to me. You are not less. You are more than the titles, more than the strength. You are my husband. You are Lila’s father. You are the man who stood on a stage and faced down corruption. But you don’t have to fight this alone. Not with me here. Not with us.” His throat tightened. For a moment, the mask cracked. But then he shook his head, whispering, “I don’t know how to not fight.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” “What do you mean?” I whispered back, keeping my eyes on the crowd. “Didn’t you hear what the MC said? They called your wife.” His smile didn’t falter, but his words cut like a blade. “And you think showing up here with your fat, ugly face is something to be proud of? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Rose?” His voice rose, and I heard some of the people laughing. Even Eva, my own daughter, was laughing at me.