The Cold Husband Novels & Stories

A woman's voice, light and breathless, floated from the living room. “Ah-ah. A sound that snagged on my frayed nerves, pulling me forward. My breath caught in my chest, a sudden, icy fist. The living room, usually a tableau of muted wealth, was a disarray of silk cushions and discarded clothing. And there, on the plush velvet sofa, was my husband, Eddie. And a woman. Young. Her legs, long and pale, were wrapped around his waist, her head thrown back, a gasp tearing from her throat. My husband, Eddie Grayson, successful CEO, paragon of Veritas City's elite, my contract husband of three years, was impaling her.

He was very excited. Looking at his bright smile, I felt utterly cold inside, as if I had fallen into a thousand-year-old ice cellar. A chill ran through me from head to toe… my husband of seven years, what means would he use to make me disappear from this world, to become his stepping stone to surrender to his mistress?

He asked me. "No, my husband is not a coward. He is Roman Atono, the leader of Russia mafia along with my dad. I insisted that I come in first since I am part of the deal." I told him who my husband is. "I love the way you hyped him. I hope he worths it." He said. "He worths more than it. But this isn't a moment of personal discussion." I shrugged my shoulders. "Fine, let him in." He commanded.

Her father looks dashing wearing a jet black tuxedo, and her mother looks beautiful in red and white color dres. "What the hell?" muttered Inder in frustration, he ruffled his back hair as long as he suppressed his annoyance. "Son, you are so handsome. Are you ready for today?" Hana walked up to Inder with her mischievous smile followed by her husband behind her. "Mother, what is this?" asked Inder with his dumb face. Hana and her husband giggled in amusement at her son's expression at this time. "You're getting married, sweetheart" "What?!"

A gentle woman like her didn't seem the sort to cheat on her husband. At that moment, Ian spoke up. His tone was heavy. "We've been married for many years, but we kept failing to conceive a child. In the end, we went for IVF, but the embryo later went missing. Despite searching all over for it, we couldn't find any traces of it."

"Don't you see that we're both about to freeze to death? When Jennie was around, she was the one who cooked. We never had to move a finger! Do you want to get married to Charles or not?" Iris was already freezing and full of pent-up anger, and their words immediately lit her fuse. Kicking down the stacks of cold drinks in the house, she cursed, "You sham, I was blind to have believed in you! Didn't you say you could predict the future? What happened to the heatwave, huh? I'm about to freeze to death!" Charles was still stubbornly trapped in his delusions, and he screamed, "Just wait a little more! I have to be right, my superpower lets me see the future!"

I noticed something amiss. So, I played along with my husband's story and casually asked, "Really? You were smiling awfully tender just now." Zachary Cole's gaze skittered away, refusing to meet mine. "The kid's got a sweet mouth. He kept calling me 'mister.' It's late. Get some sleep." He turned and walked into the bathroom before I could get a word in edgewise. After 10 years of marriage, I could read him like an open book. That moment of hesitation told me everything I needed to know. He was hiding something.

She blushed furiously as she felt a heat she hadn’t experienced in years rising in her chest. Her husband was her husband in name only. Two years of marriage, and he had never touched her—not once. No caress, no lingering kiss, no whispers of desire. The cold emptiness of their bedroom had become a daily torment. She had tried to ignore it, convince herself that marriage wasn’t just about sex, but today, the yearning clawed at her, its claws sharp and unrelenting. Her gaze returned to the gardener who still hadn't noticed her presence. His strong shoulders, the curve of his biceps, the way his shirt clung to his torso as he bent to lift the heavy bags—it was all too much.

“But, how is it that you were married to her all these years and didn’t even know what she liked to eat? That’s pretty pathetic for a husband…” “Ex-husband,” Adam corrected with a smirk. “What about you?” I snapped, glaring at Arlington. “Your pathetic pining for my wife from a distance, for years, has clearly gotten you nowhere. Talk about pathetic…” Arlington froze for a moment before smiling politely. “Not so distant, I admit.” “You are not the father of my child,” I replied, stepping aside for a nurse who had come down the corridor. “And neither are you, Adam.” “You’re sure of that?” Adam asked, crossing his arms. “How many times have you slept with Alice over the years? A dozen? Less?”