The Abandoned Wife Novels & Stories

He had also been given a second chance, and he was desperate to change everything. The phantom agony of the soul spikes and the suffocating heat of the flames felt as if they were still etched into my skin. The stinging pain made cold sweat pour down my face. Without hesitation, I stripped off my bridal gown. "Mr. Thorne, please burn the marriage contract. From this moment on, the engagement is void. I'm more than happy to step aside for Julian and Miriam." Julian looked at me, stunned. He clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily.

He paused and stared at Sarian's image in the picture and he smiled. “E lei chi è?” He said his tone had changed. Though unreadable, his face had become softer. “Who is she?” I had been preparing for this moment. The last lie. The one who could make it all work. My heart was pounding but I managed to keep my voice steady as I said, “That's my wife. . He. . . he abducted her. . separated her from her family.” I raised my voice a bit in rage. “Her family wants her to return. They're in a desperate state and he threatened me , her husband, that I would never set my eyes on her again.”.

Someone with affluence and power, while I was the gentle and understanding wife, like I hadn't given up my life and dreams for him too. Even though our marriage had to be kept a secret because I wasn't of his status, I did my role well. I managed the house effectively. I tried to read up on his world—the quarterly reports, the jargon, the people. Not to impress him…but to make sure when he looked at me, he didn't see someone from the low city. He saw someone who belonged, in her own way. “I'm divorcing him. And I'm getting treatment,” I informed her and I heard something fall from her end.

Nora Bellweather married a man who never loved her. When she found proof of his betrayal, something in her went quiet and hard. Then, drowning her grief in a dim bar one night, she saw three faces from a past she thought she'd buried for good. The next morning, her husband walked in with three important guests, and she nearly dropped the teapot in her hands. It was them. Older, sharper, wealthier, and dangerous in ways they never used to be. They had once loved her without limits before everything fell apart. Now they were back in her house, in her life, refusing to stay away. Nora cannot forgive what tore them apart years ago, and she will not survive another heartbreak in a marriage that h

“Oh please baby, you’ve been lying to him all your life. Your whole marriage is built on a fucking lie” “Shut up Martin, I’m warning you”, Agatha threatened, raising her voice. “I know you don’t believe me pretty boy, but Agatha and I used to be lovers. We were such good fuck bodies. What thing led to another she got pregnant and abandoned me” “Abandoned you? No you got sent to prison because you’re a bloody criminal” Her grinned and moved closer to her gripping her hand tightly and she winced. “Let her go”, I said walking towards them.

he continued, his eyes briefly flickering toward me, “and her violation of clan marital law.” Violation. The word echoed in my head like a hammer. Kathie stiffened beside me. I felt her fingers tighten around mine. I swallowed hard and straightened my shoulders. I would not look guilty. I would not shrink. I would not let these men see fear on my face, no matter how violently my heart was pounding. “She abandoned her marital home,” Flavio went on, “left her husband without proper approval, and remained in hiding for several years.” A low murmur spread through the chamber.

He was frustrated at himself for always wanting her in ways he never wanted Avery. “How could I ever call a woman like you my wife? You’re nothing but a stain on my name.” The words hit her harder than any blow. He shoved her aside as if she were nothing more than dirt beneath his feet. She hit the floor again with a thud, curling up as pain rippled through her abdomen. The room spun, and she could barely breathe. But through the ache, one thought echoed in her mind—I can’t give up. My baby needs me.

Something she can trade to save the one person who matters. “You’re not a whore. You’re my wife.” The words come out sharp, blade-edge clean, and they surprise both of us. I see her flinch, see something flicker across her face that might be anger or might be something worse. “Your wife?” She smiles, but it’s bitter. Broken. “The one you treat however you want? The one you ignore? The one you left under the stairs like she was nothing?” Her voice rises, and I can hear years of resentment pouring out. “The one whose opinion never mattered in that suffocating cage you call a home? The one you never believed? Tell me, Julian—which wife am I supposed to be? Because we both know what all of this

I weep for the abandoned dinner, for the set table, for the candles extinguished before they even had a chance to live. I weep for this pregnancy barely begun, already rejected. I weep for this belly ignored, denied. For this love I carried alone. I weep for what my sister stole from me. For her words, whispered in my ear like a provocation: "I'm pregnant. By him." And him, Marius, silent, but standing at her side like a trophy she had conquered, a man who would not be returned to me. I weep for my naïveté. I weep for that foolish belief that love is sometimes born of the everyday, that it can grow where nothing was ever sown.

He flops down in an open chair and kicks of his filthy boots. "Where is that manky bean," he growls as he gets settled and the two other males shrug. "Soith! Get in," the swine yells and I hear something fall as someone runs from the other side of the home. My stomach twists and a bruised woman comes running into the room. Familiarity slaps me in the face as I am met with the older version of my angelic mate. Her mother is alive... "Ba mhaith liom via (I want food)," he practically snarls and the woman hurries from the room.