Real Wife Swap Stories Novels & Stories

Ethan had informed the Procter family prior to this. Wendell was a loving man. He didn't meet other women after his wife's demise. That was also the reason that led him to excessively indulge in Alexander. Now, he finally learned the truth—his real son was swapped and had been lost for many years. When he met the tall and built man before him, he couldn't believe that it was his son. Wayne took after him, but his eyes were similar to his wife's—proud and rebellious. "You…"

My husband stared at the video sent by his assistant, his disbelief evident as he turned to me. "All this time, you were upset with me, insisting on returning to your family while pregnant was all because they were causing trouble behind the scenes! Fiona, this is outrageous! And no matter what, Sharon is still their wife and daughter-in-law!" I lowered my gaze, watching his angry expression in silence. They had done far worse. In my previous life, to ensure Brian and Sharon had an heir after her infertility, they swapped my daughter for Sharon’s tumor. The thought made my eyes drift to the tiny bundle in the bassinet. My daughter slept peacefully, her chest rising and falling softly.

Has it ever occurred to you that if you hadn't tried to pull some stupid trick to switch the brides, even if you were an incompetent loser, you would still be able to live a life of luxury now? Andrew clenched his fists, his veins popping as he did so. I continued, "Truth be told, I chose to fake my death because you kept choosing Celine over me. You thought she was an innocent young woman who needed to be taken care of. "But in reality, she knew from the very beginning that I'd overheard your plan to switch the cars. Yet, she kept that information from you. "You could've spent the rest of your life with her, so why do you want me back? This pitiful display of conscience from you is simply y

I signed where indicated. And then it was done. I stood on the steps of the Ministry of Marriage in a dress I had chosen myself, holding a certificate with both our names on it, trying to locate the feeling I was supposed to have in this moment. I'm married. I am Mrs. Hills. I am married to the richest, most aggravating, most complicated man in this city, and I did it for my mother's debt and to cover up two one-night stands, and this is my life now.

I say, placing my hands on her back and dragging her in for a hug. “I knew that if I told Robert I had lost the baby it would finalize everything bad about me so I begged the nurse in the room not to say a word. She came up with a solution for me, apparently a woman had also given birth in the same hospital at almost the same time. A girl as well. This had to be a sign. I paid her handsomely and she brought you to my arms. The swap was done and from the first time I laid my eyes on you I have loved you.”

Every month on the 15th is the day I swap lives with Melody Foster. 18 years ago, a hospital mix-up places our IVF embryos in each other's mothers. After the truth comes out, my biological parents want their real daughter, and my adoptive parents want theirs. They arrange for Melody and me to rotate between the two homes on a monthly basis, switching every 15th. From then on, I become the burden neither family wants. In whichever home Melody stays, there are endless snacks and drinks, thousands of dollars in monthly allowance, and the sunny bedroom is always reserved for her. In whichever home I stay, there's nothing but plain meals and a windowless storage room. 18 years later, I

Yet the very next day, Dad's company went bankrupt, and we were forced to move into this suffocating 100-square-foot apartment. To help pay off their debts, I worked three jobs a day, driving myself to such extreme exhaustion that I could fall asleep standing up. However, it wasn't until this afternoon, when I went to get the hearing aid from that massive villa, that I found out about Mom and Dad's other home. If that young woman was their daughter, then who was I? I had even heard that woman complain coaxingly as I walked away, dispirited. "So, when are you going to tell that peasant the truth?"

Their names were hot on the search list. “My God, someone could go through all that in a lifetime. How could she show love to people without feeling wronged? I would literally not want to talk to anyone ever again.” “I always see her in the news. I always wanted to be like her, thinking her life was perfect. And now knowing all these, my admiration for her has increased.” “I didn’t know child swapping happens in real life. If I were to find out that the family that raised me weren’t mine, I don’t think I can survive that.”

"The wedding. Cancel everything. The venue, the caterers, all of it. I don't care what it costs. Just make it go away." After hanging up, I sat there in the darkness of my study, the weight of my mistakes crushing down on me. I'd believed her. Defended her. Chose her over Evangeline again and again. And all of it had been lies. The medical records I'd verified—fabricated. The fragility I'd protected—an act. The dying woman I'd wanted to help—a murderer. I thought of every time Evangeline had tried to tell me the truth. Every time she'd questioned Sabrina's story, pointed out inconsistencies, warned me something was wrong.

He seemed to have known from the beginning that the bride that day was Hannah, not me. When did he figure it out? I asked him again and again, but he said the same thing every time. He couldn't tell me yet. My phone vibrated. Wayne was asking me out again. This time, he finally told me when he realized the bride swap had happened. He held my hand tightly. "Because in my last life, I didn't get to marry you." My entire body went numb, and I froze. His eyes were red when he looked at me.