Survival Marriage Novels & Stories

I managed to control my voice as I asked, "Did you know that the baby passed every health check? He always responded whenever I placed my hand on my stomach. "Did you know that the doctor told me that the baby kept fighting until the final second? If we had only been slightly earlier—even by one minute—he would have survived!" Upon hearing that, Wallace immediately fell silent, his expression hardening. He still refused to agree to the divorce, though. "I understand how devastated you are over losing the baby, Meryl—I am as well. That doesn't mean we have to get a divorce, though, especially since our relationship hasn't reached that breaking point. You should think about this rationally—"

What a tricky part! “Two, the marriage will end a year and a half after you take your inheritance,” I voiced, and I looked at his reaction, expecting him to say something, but he stayed quiet, staring at his phone, inexpressive. “Three, I don’t stay much at the house and can stay where I want to stay.” He nods and critiques, “Two bargains reasonable for me.” “Okay, and the third, there’s no kissing or anything beyond that.” His eyes looked at me, smirking, and teased, “You don’t want to taste how good a kisser I am?”

The friendly, bookish man who’d been so curious about the outside world had been intended as my husband? “That’s…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “I know it’s a lot to process. But you have to understand, arranged marriages aren’t about romance in our world. They’re about creating the next generation of gifted children, ensuring the survival of our abilities.” I thought about Karl’s genuine smile, his curiosity about my life. Had he known? When we’d talked in the hallway, had he been thinking about what might have been? “Does he know?” I asked.

"I love you too. Even when your mother orchestrates fake pregnancies and your ex-lovers die making deathbed confessions. We're going to survive this, Liam. Together." They stood in that hospital hallway, holding each other while around them life continued—nurses rushing past, visitors searching for rooms, the constant beep and hum of medical equipment. Two people who'd been strangers four months ago, who'd entered a contract marriage built on coercion and manipulation, choosing each other despite every reason not to.

This wasn't a standard marriage contract; it was a covenant of protection, written by a woman who knew the world was dangerous and a father—Braham’s father—who didn't trust the man his fellow wolf’s daughter had chosen. "Listen to this," I choked out, my voice thick with the salt of my tears. " 'In the event of the death of one partner, the surviving spouse shall enter a period of mourning for no less than three and a half years. During this time, they shall not enter into a new romantic union or contract of marriage.'” I looked at the bed we had just moved. "They were together within months… and got married in a year and a few months. He didn't even wait for the grass to grow on her grave."

Mary asked Natasha in surprise. "Come on Mom. Don't pretend like you don't know why I don't want to marry him. I wanted to marry him when he was healthy, but now he is in a wheelchair, and there is no way he will get better. He is a crippled man now and won't be able to stand up. I can't drag his wheelchair around for the rest of my life. I am a model. I have a bright future. I don't want to ruin my future by marrying him.

Wendy handled her like a pro, keeping my world spinning without a hitch. However, at the wedding, Ella lost it, crashed the party, and started flinging insults like confetti. "Jim, it all makes sense now. You're so eager to divorce me because you've been fooling around with this homewrecker. How long have you two been sneaking around behind my back?" Wendy slipped her arm through mine, beaming with a smile. "Not everyone gets their kicks from cheating like you do. We've got our principles, you know."

"If you do, they can’t accuse you of instability. You’ll have a partner, and a shield. It gives you standing, both socially and legally.” I shook my head, rising to my feet. “You can’t be serious. A marriage? After everything, after Rowan...." I couldn't continue. “I can’t do that to myself again.” Michael set the glass down. “This isn’t Rowan. And it isn’t about love. It’s about survival.” I stopped, staring at my reflection in the window. A marriage in name only. A shield. A strategy. Was that what my life had come to? Pretending, surviving, strategizing, always in chains disguised as choices?

Something cold settled in my chest immediately. “What is that supposed to mean?” Jessica tilted her head slightly. “You’re smart. Figure it out.” I stared at her carefully now. Jessica’s eyes flickered briefly toward the wedding ring on my finger again. Then back to my face. “Only that some people marry for survival, some for love.” A pause. “Others marry for convenience.” Another pause. “And some people…” Her smile sharpened faintly. “…marry because they’re told to.” My stomach tightened instantly.

"You want a Stepford wife without sex. Have you learned anything about women since you were 14?" (Stepford: derived from the horror film Stepford Wives. It usually refers to obedient housewives.) "I've learned a lot. That's why Uncle Earl forced me to join an organization that puts women first." She gaped her mouth. "Men always get a lot out of marriage!" "Eg?" "Sexual routines and favors." "After six months, the headaches start coming and you'll be bored to the point of crying." "Some people live to old age together." "Men never want to get old. That's why they keep looking for young women."