My Woman His Wife Book Novels & Stories

"Five years after the marriage, the young woman was beginning to become a woman, even if she did not allow her husband to join her. Becoming a woman was out of all options, there was no possibility of her doing something so vile and distasteful against herself. Francesca spent so much time looking for a way not to bow to that vile family from which her husband came, the young woman refused to become a woman under the protection of that blood that had never done anything to help her family. Months passed, until finally, through an oversight of her mother's maids, the young woman found an old but still well-preserved book on the table in the library of the mansion. The book was there, carefull

He glanced around the parking out, just about to take a step farther, another parked next to his car. Michael and Charlene alighted from the car together. “You should come with me. It may take me up to an hour so… you may come in with me.” “Will it be okay? I can actually stay in the car.” “I refuse.” “If you insist.” The voice, he vividly remembered the voice. It was familiar and the voice somehow belonged to someone he could never forget. He hesitated. When Charlene uttered her last statement, he abruptly whirled to see the woman his heart longed for, his wife of course. Charlene hadn't noticed yet because she was still talking to Michael.

What a waste. “You’re just trying to brainwash my son,” The old woman pushed me to the right side and marched towards Hadyy who’s freezing on his foot doesn’t know what to do in this situation. “Woah! Coming from the woman who tried to stole my husband away from me and my son, quite surprising. I’m thrilled to deepest part of my spine, what a joke,” I slowly walk to their standpoint and stops right in front of her and my husband. “I think it’s more appropriate If I’m the one to say that you should take your filthy hands off my husband. And...don’t ever try to question my right because factually, technically and legally we’re married, I am her wife and so he is my what?” I raised my left brow

She walks to where the dress lays on the floor, trying to sway her hips. Trying to seduce us, I suppose. Antonio and I just turn our heads to the side, and ignore her. We get no excitement from seeing any part of her naked flesh. Only Caroline can make us hard. Sorry, sara. Our bodies belong to caroline as well. “I don't know why everyone is so mad. We did nothing wrong. I'm your real wife! She's a sorry no one!” In a flash, i'm in front of her, my hand wrapped around her neck tightly.

"Of course not!" I sat down. It was almost funny, attending my own wife's wedding and whatnot. I started looking around. Before long, the older woman beside me struck up a conversation. "Those two look perfect together, don't they? It wasn't easy for them to get married." I gritted my teeth, but the bitterness still came. "What made it hard?"

“Mr. Dean, sir, this woman is lying. She’s my wife, you see and she’s just throwing a tantrum. As a matter of fact, I told her to tender in her resignation last night and come home to her family but she refused. And now she’s putting our daughter’s life in danger.” My brow twitched as well as my lip. How could he stand there and lie so casually? But then again he’d do so, so flawlessly it took me ten years to find out. He was testing my patience and it would soon run out. What he had done to me was a crime that was punishable by law, had he forgotten? Maybe he just doesn’t care. Or maybe he thought he would get away with it, because after all, I was just June. A nobody. Just someone talented

I downed several gulps of water, staggering to my feet. Just as I stumbled toward the door, Emily appeared again, ready to confront me. She spat, "Slut! You lost your husband, and now you're throwing yourself at mine? Serves you right that William and your child are both dead! You should've joined them!" With those words, my rage instantly ignited. She was the one who stole my husband and caused me to lose my baby. Yet, she was accusing me of being the other woman. Fueled by intense anger, I grabbed her collar and slapped her across the face. I snarled, "You destroyed my family! You're the real slut!"

Mark had erased her from their life bit by bit, so slowly she hadn't even noticed until it was too late. But now she saw it. She saw everything. Elena Sterling had been the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect doormat for twelve years. Starting today, that was going to change. She opened her laptop and began typing her resignation from this life. Because if Mark wanted her gone, he was about to get his wish. But not the way he expected.

At first, it was nothing more than a passing glance—a woman entering with confidence, drawing subtle attention without trying. But then he looked again. And everything around him seemed to fade. His focus narrowed completely, his breath catching slightly as recognition

Who had received information about a woman who had read his wife's book and left her marriage and had responded not with defensiveness but with genuine gladness for that woman's clarity. That was the man he was becoming. Still becoming. Still in the process. But becoming. "Me too," she said. They sat together at the kitchen table in the early evening light while the children's voices moved through the house in their ordinary rhythm and the book was in the world and the women were reading it and the kitchen held them both in its familiar way. "I want to say something," Emeka said. "Say it."