My Wife Killed Me Novels & Stories

“Collapsed? Did you see her collapse with your own eyes?” Marcellus suddenly cut him off, his gaze sharp as a blade, his voice low yet edged with interrogation. Elias’s shoulders jolted ever so slightly at the question. He lowered his eyes, his hands curling tightly around the armrests of the chair as though forcing himself to remain composed. “No…” he admitted with difficulty, shaking his head. “I wasn’t there when it happened. Someone later came to inform me that she had suddenly fainted. My chest tightened the moment I heard it, and I sent someone to find you right away. Whatever the current state of your relationship may be, you two are still bound by law as husband and wife. I felt you

Calvin Yale, my husband, didn't visit me even a single time before I died. It wasn't until three days after I had died that he bothered to step into his stepmother, Margaret Sommer's ward. "Where's Clarissa? Get her out here now," Calvin ordered. Margaret lay in the hospital bed, her pale eyes dull and lifeless. She mumbled, "Clare's dead." Calvin furrowed his brow and scoffed. "You're saying someone like her, who's always fighting to stay alive, would actually die? Did she find out Jenna lost vision in her right eye and needed her help, so she went and hid?"

After a moment, she called again, "Honey, the washing machine is broken. Can you take a look at it?" When I didn't respond right away, she came in, clearly annoyed. "Marcus Lomas. I've been calling for you. Why are you ignoring me?" My mind was still processing what had happened. I couldn't believe my wife had tried to kill me just to be with another man. Felicia noticed my dazed state and quickly put on a concerned expression, reaching out to feel my forehead. I recoiled from her touch, my body shaking. She didn't seem to mind though and handed me a toolkit and the same black-handled screwdriver from before.

Netizens had already uncovered the truth about her. [I thought she was just a pretty influencer, but turns out she's a homewrecker.] [Climbing the ranks as a mistress is one thing, but to deliberately provoke the wife? That's cruel, especially since she lost her child.] [I know about this. There was a little boy who was stabbed to death on Star Avenue recently. That must've been the wife's son. Word is, the father was with the mistress at the time, sending his own son out to run errands, and the boy was killed by a lunatic.]

“And guess who else I’m going to be taking with me today?” I swallowed. She raised her gun— I was about to push Elena out of the way— “BANG!” The sound broke into my ear, Followed my screams, tearing from different throats. As I turned to look at my wife, her body was slowly falling to the ground beside me. She shot my wife. My heart fell.

I tell Vivienne. “I picked everything out; it should be mine.” Vivienne screeches. “Your name isn’t on the papers. I voided and paid the contracts. It is my asset.” I explained. Vivienne stands up, “You and I kissed Friday. Does your wife know that?” “You kissed me, and I pushed you away. Let me be clear, Vivienne. Even if Ellie weren’t in the picture, we wouldn’t be together. Me loving someone else doesn’t change the fact that you cheated while I was fighting for my life in a burn unit.” I explained.

" Dad puncher her on the stomach and she coughed out blood.. "And another thing that I know.. Your wife didn't die of brain tumor.. " She leaned closer.. "We killed her... "

It's a good thing my wife didn't do anything to her because I might kill her if she did. Speaking of killing someone, my colleague and ex-girlfriend, Abigail, is dead. That's why the police are involved because my wife attacked her and stabbed her so many times that when she arrived at the hospital, she was gone. The police were looking for her because witnesses reported seeing my wife commit the act. That's why they came into our home.

I wiped my face, shaking my head at the irony of the situation. Was that really Melissa? “Dad, what took you so long?” Caleb whined when I got inside the car. “Did you sneak away to see Mum secretly?” Mum? What Mum? That girl, although she shared a deep resemblance with her, would never be Melissa. My wife died in a car accident two years ago. I'd been there, watching, helpless, and hopeful she would survive. No amount of money spent could save her. She was gone moments before the paramedics arrived.

My wife, Lani Fort, finally answered my calls only after my daughter, Anjou, stopped breathing. “Didn’t I tell you that Warren Stafford’s dog was having a difficult labor? I’m in the middle of saving a life right now. “You’ve called 108 times in two hours. What on earth is going on?” Two hours earlier, my daughter had suddenly developed a high fever, so I took her to the hospital. The doctor diagnosed her with acute myocarditis and said her only chance of survival was to use an ECMO machine. The $50,000 initial fee for the treatment had become an insurmountable obstacle for me. I called her 108 times, but she had rejected every single call. My voice trembled as I held my daughter’s lif