Romans & histoires Sorry My Sweet Wife

I stood up and returned to the table the photograph of two important people in my life that I will never forget. "I'm sorry wife, if until now I haven't been able to let you go, maybe you're tired already. Just be patient until I'll become okay and I'm ready to let you go. I'm also sorry if you think you've been replaced I already have you in my life, but like I told to Seline I'll try to give her a chance but if it didn't really work out I can't do anything about it, I'll remain single forever. I miss you both! I hope you visit me even in a dream. " he whispered to himself and lay down on the bed. Jade POV

Her lost words to her husband, "I am sorry my dear. I have a dream to live with you for many years but I never expected that my life would end this earlier. I miss you," Her lost words to me, "Akshadh, you are equal to my brother. I saw a marriage match for you Akshadh but my bad luck couldn't able to see your wedding. Takkkkeee care...e.. of myyyyy husssbandddd and Alllllleeennnn...............," She fell in my friend's chest speechlessly, breathlessly. She passed away. I am unable to console myself and my friend. We cried and at least I need to save my friend and his daughter.

I went ahead to tap on the screen and it was only then I saw the message sent by my wife. “You have my forgiveness now and the loving husband I had few days ago disappeared. How ironic? Dinner has gone cold, have a lovely night,”

“My husband died in an accident. It’s been so hard.” “Please, if you’re alive, just say something.” Her last message was from two months ago. I covered my mouth, my chest aching. God… she went through all that, and I wasn’t even there. She lost her husband, and I didn’t even know. “Liam…” I whispered bitterly. “You took everything from me, even my friends.” I wiped my tears and started typing. "Sophia… It’s me. I’m so sorry. I just saw your messages. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. Here’s my new number, please call me when you see this."

“And then, when she reaches out—and she will, Kelvin, a woman doesn’t kiss someone like that and simply stop thinking about it—you tell her the truth. “That you’re not sorry. “That you’ve never once been sorry about her, not for one day since you met her, and the only thing you’re sorry for is a badly chosen sentence in a moment that scared you more than you expected it to.” I sat in my brother’s flat, still in my coat, and thought about a woman walking out into the cold with my apology sitting wrong in her ears, carrying it home to a husband who had no idea what he’d already lost and was still, somehow, in the room with her every single night.

Harthwore found himself becoming even more interested in uncovering what this was really about. Then he remembered the plan. He had to apologize and convince her that his wife was the one at fault. “It may be difficult to convince my wife to reconcile with you,” he said. “But rest assured, she'll come around.” “I said a lot of hurtful things to her,” Ruth admitted. “I was angry because she didn't trust me.” “It's alright.” Harthwore gave her a reassuring nod. “You should go back inside. She'll come around eventually.”

The soft beeps and whirs seemed to take on a mournful tone, a dirge for the life that had been brutally ripped from her. I felt my eyes prick with tears.Even though she is not my sister or friend ,I feel for her. All that mattered was the horrific suffering she had endured, and the monstrous cruelty that had been inflicted upon her. Her husband, I thought, my mind seething with anger and disgust. He was the one responsible for this, the one who had turned on the person he was supposed to love and protect. He was a beast, a monster without a conscience or a heart.What kind of a person will do this to his wife?

“Can’t work? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re a good-for-nothing girlfriend! Other women would have handled this already. But you? You’re still complaining. Then what’s your purpose as a wife if we get officially married? You better convince him by all means, that’s your duty. He must have sex with you. Do whatever you have to do!” His words landed like punches. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay…” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.” The call ended abruptly. I stood there in the middle of the luxurious foyer, still pressing the phone to my ear even after the line went dead. Heavy sobs started escaping me as tears rolled down my face. I slid down onto the cold marble floor, huggi

I was able to raise my right hand, tubes strapped to my skin. “Where’s Grace?” I had asked. “Who?” “My wife.” The nurse’s expression dropped. “I’m so sorry… she didn’t make it.” The most damaging four words I’d ever heard. My dream opened the floodgates and memories pouring in, washing over me, drowning me.

As I was rummaging through the trash for leftovers, my wife, who had died three years ago, suddenly showed up. She stepped out of the Voyce and looked down at me from above. “Honey, you really did pass my test.” I was holding some moldy stale bread. I stared at her in bewilderment. It turned out that three years ago, at a class reunion, the school heartthrob she had once dated had suggested it. “I wanted to see if your love is real.”