My Wife Novels & Stories

"What are you talking about, Ma'am?! She's my wife, okay?!" "That's not the case with other couples who come here. We don't usually care if the people who come here at the same time have an intimate relationship. But in the situation of that woman right now, it is questionable that she is your wife." I sighed, I moved my muscles a little that were already tense. "She's my wife. What's so hard to understand about that? I said, she's my wife!" I said again. She avoided looking at me and was busy doing whatever she was doing on the computer in front of her.

Though I did enjoy watching him shirtless in the backyard working hard. One other thing is I love Kira with all my heart I wouldn’t trade my daughter for anything. She’s the light in the darkness. She is all my entire heart, well half my heart belongs to her father, though I’d never admit it. He smiles. “That wasn’t what I meant. A buddy of mine was speaking about his wife, how when we get home from, they plan to start trying for a second baby.” He tells me. I look up at him. “That’s nice…” I say confused.

I say this while looking each of them straight in the eye, especially that idiot who thinks I don't see how he looks at my wife. At the table, we have: Lucifer and his wife, the general and his wife, Marco and his wife, Philippe and his girlfriend, Fernandez and his girlfriend, Mr. Alberto Robertson and his wife, the royal eagle and his wife, my business partner Hector Hamilton, his brother, and their wives. I feel like we're forming one hell of a family, just like my wife has always wanted. I love seeing her happy; I love that smile that lights up her face and brightens my day.

I called out to my wife. "Yes, you are back," was her answer. She was watching a Korean program in the living room. "Honey, we need to talk," I said, taking the remote and switching off the television. "What's wrong? Why did you switch it off?" she asked, surprised. "Baby, I don't like the way things are now. I don't like our marriage in this situation. I don't like the woman you have been all this time. I really pride myself about your achievement, but you have not been taking care of your wifey duties. You are not a good wife," I shouted.

After all, I am his wife. "Listen to me when I say this because I will say this only once. I am his wife, he is my husband. And I will see my husband whenever I feel like it, no matter if he is busy with the president of the USA. Now get out of my way." I say as she looks behind me and I know Grace is behind me.

The words were coming out slowly from Marias fingers on the keyboard. I think what people really mean by this question is why do people need a wife. Getting married has to do with having someone you can talk to in good and bad situation in life. A wife can be a friend and companion. People need a wife because they want someone to care for them and be there, for them when they need it. A wife can make a person feel happy and loved. The person sent a response away. The response came quickly. Business. The woman was so unhappy with the response she got. She was not satisfied, with what she had written so she typed again. The woman was trying to get her words right and typed again.

Yet, when I poured all my love on Snow, she was busy giving her attention to another man. “Snow, are you really this naive? Yulan isn’t your ‘brother.’ He’s an adult man who’s interested in you. You really can’t tell? “Tell me, in the eight years that we’ve been together, have you ever done something as simple as washing my clothes? What you call a small favor looks very different from my perspective. My wife, in another man’s home, wearing only a camisole, does something so intimate for him that she’s never done for me. How’s that not crossing a line?”

She said, “It's perfectly fine to prepare tea for your husband.” Aria nearly dropped the spoon. She turned and found the elderly housemaid standing behind her. “Mrs. Rose! You startled me.” Mrs. Rose smiled. “I didn't mean to. But I don't see anything wrong with a wife caring for her husband.” Aria lowered her gaze. “It's not like that, Mrs Rose. He might have caught a cold because of me.” “Of course,” her smile grew. Aria knew she wasn't convinced. She poured the tea into a cup and picked up the tray. “I'm just taking this to him. Nothing else. Stop smiling like that, please.”

Everyone knew Amber Sherry was hopelessly in love with me. She would even risk her life for me. I got into a severe car accident to save her. My health never fully recovered. Because I had a rare blood type, she was terrified that something else might happen to me. She found someone with the same blood type and kept him on standby. He would donate blood to me whenever I needed it. I was also hopelessly in love with her. After she gave birth to Aria, I did not care what people thought. We gave her Amber’s last name—Aria Sherry. I did not want her to go through another pregnancy, so I got a vasectomy. Every socialite in our circle was jealous of what we had. On the day of Aria’s baby de

Cloe sat across from him with a cup of tea and watched her husband move around the kitchen, the easy competence of someone who had cooked in this room for years, who knew where everything was without looking, who had learned, across an entire extraordinary year, that the most important thing he could do was keep the ordinary life running while the enormous things moved through it. She loved him for that with a specific and unhurried certainty that had nothing dramatic about it and was, because of that, more real than anything dramatic could have been. “Mac,” she said. He looked over from the cooker. “Thank you,” she said. “For today. For every day.” He looked at her for a moment with the exp