My Wifes Best Friend Novels & Stories

Hearing his words, Zia's heart fluttered. "Because for me, she is the most beautiful and enchanting girl in the world," Zia silently heard him. Even Riley smiled at his words. She tried to hand the phone back to Zia but she refused to take it and said. "How can people change their best friends just in seconds? Very rude of them," A chortle escaped from his mouth, listening to her. "Well …. I don't know about others and their opinion but I know about myself for sure and for me….the most beautiful person I have seen in my life is my wife who is just not my life partner but my best friend, my entire family,"

I roll my eyes loving to my seat He laughs standing up from the couch and sitting across from me, “You're his wife, is there anyone that should be closer to a man than his wife?” he raises a brow at me, “Anyways, have you had breakfast?” he points his fingers at me with a caring and soft smile on his face. I place my head on my hands, my elbows on the table, leaning towards him “Why are you doing this? You do remember-” “You are my best friend's wife, there's nothing attached to all of this, I just want to see you happy Isabella” he sends me a soft smile, his fingers grabbing mine in his hold

Five years had passed. In that time, Bruce and I not only grew more accomplished in medicine, but our marriage remained as tender and sweet as ever. We often argued passionately over medical theories, yet in private, he still found ways to surprise me. He once said, "At work, we are rivals and partners. But in life, I am yours and yours alone." He gave me both respect and the freedom to pursue my career. To everyone else, I appeared to be the very embodiment of a happy wife.

Because who the hell was I to even claim him? I wasn't his girlfriend. Neither was I his wife. I didn't have any right to him. I was only his best friend who he fucks when he feels like. And for me? I was not only his best friend who loves how hard he fucks me and how good he always makes it feel. I also love… Don't speak further, Savannah. You'll ruin what's left of your friendship. God, this was so damn messed up.

Hayden squeezed Myla’s hand, but remained silent. Myla smiled calmly. “See, the issue is that we believed our private life was private. Unfortunately, circumstances forced us here.” Clara shifted closer. “Then help us understand.” Myla nodded toward the screen. “Those two men on the screen are my husband’s best friends, and over the years, they became my best friends too.” Some members of the audience ohhhhed. They have been a tight, protective unit since their orphanage days.” Myla said. "That kind of bond is thicker than typical friendship. They have survived wars, trauma, and a lot together.”

His jaw was tight, but he didn’t grab the phone from me. “You were my friend,” I said. “And you were his wife. Friendship died in that bedroom the same day your marriage did.” “If you post that photo, you are not hurting Adrian. You are helping Damien keep me tied to a man who will not sign.” “Maybe I want you tied. Maybe I like watching you scramble and suffer.” My free hand curled into a fist. “What kind of human are you?? What did he promise you this time?” “I don’t think that is your business anymore.”

“Ronan who? Am I supposed to know him?” “The stranger is Declan’s best friend and he is here, Zara. He came to visit Declan. I saw him tonight. I saw his face and he greeted me.” My voice cracked. “The man I slept with is my husband’s best friend.” Zara stared at me for a long moment. And then she bursted into laughter. Not loudly or mocking. Just a low, disbelieving sound that escaped her lips before she could stop it. I blinked and asked, “what is so funny?”

My name is Lila but for five years, my husband called me Claire. He said it was a pet name and that if I really loved him, I’d accept it. So I gave up my dream. I served his family. I waited for him to love me back. Then one night he touched me for the first time, whispering “Claire” the whole time. I thought he had finally let me in. The next day, he introduced me to the real Claire. I was never his wife. I was a placeholder. Now I have one month to leave him, take my name back, and accept a $10 million inheritance, on one condition: marry a stranger.

I looked at him. Then at her. My best friend, Sophie, was clutching the white sheet against her chest, her hair tangled around her face. The same face I’d held while she cried about her heartbreak. The same woman I’d called my sister. The same woman who had stood beside me six months ago when I married the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. I laughed. I didn’t know why. Maybe because if I didn’t laugh, I would scream. “So this is why you kept telling me you were tired.”

On my boyfriend, Cole Anderson’s phone, everyone had a personalized contact name. My best friend, Zoey Collins, was saved as "Zoey-Bear." Me? I was just a plain, nameless ten-digit string of numbers. When I asked him about it, he just reached out and ruffled my hair. "I know your number by heart, babe. I don't need a contact tag to tell me it's you." He chuckled and added, "Besides, your bestie is practically the boss of both of us. If I want a future with you, I've gotta stay on her good side." Zoey backed him up, reassuring me with a gentle nudge. "Don't sweat it, girl. You're the actual girlfriend here. He knows where his heart belongs." I really believed Cole. I thought staying u