The Forgotten Wife Novels & Stories

He wiped his sweat off of his forehead. His wife laughed as if seeing him like that makes her happy. “You did not answer my question, my husband.” “They... They are doing good!” He smirked. “Both of them don't remember you.” His wife stopped laughing. She saw in front of him and held her chin. ”Aww, they must have forgotten about me.” Her voice was low and deep. “Or maybe they forgot about me because you erased their memories.” She smiled as if she said something so innocently.

Tomorrow he'll be back to what he used to be, the person who doesn't care if you're still his wife. I smiled bitterly, I don't want to be a mere excuse even if we say it's my obligation as a wife. I just closed my eyes, if he goes back to his old self tomorrow, his emotionless eyes every time he looks at me will be okay. We both loved this thing. Because of my thoughts, I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep. TOMORROW

“N-NO!” “You resist one more time, I’d have to cuff you, love.” My body stiffened as I angrily glared at him. He couldn’t be serious. But the swirls of eyes were more than serious. He’d cuff me rendering me helpless once again. My eyes reflected with intense fury and rage. Wife they call me and yet treat me like a whore. Use me whenever their heart desire. “I am your wife!” I cried angry tears rushing down my eyes. Ralph looked amused shaking his head. “Not a whore!”

I should’ve expected it, but it still stunned me. He never even mentioned custody, never once threatened to take Tessa from me. He said I didn’t need to work, that I could come back and live with him again. Like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t once torn my heart apart by choosing someone else. His betrayal still sat deep in me, like a shard of glass I couldn’t remove. Forgiveness wasn’t the issue anymore, I had already done that, silently, for my own peace. But forgetting? How do you forget the woman who had had sex with your husband on your matrimonial bed, who had walked around your house wearing your husband’s shirt, her smile wide and wicked?

The woman from the hidden cell comes over to the bench with Eliza helping her to walk. “Fuck you, Syd. You kept me in that room for three days now. Did you forget? Hmm? Again?” Again? Was this a regular thing? He frowns then his eyes clear, and he nods sadly, “Gods, you’re so stupid. He pushes the bookcase over, then forgets the door is even there. I’m his wife, and I’m the stupid one for marrying him in the first place. You can imprison me or whatever. I’m done, we’re getting divorced as soon as I figure out how to do that from prison.”

She had on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Even though these women didn’t remember me, I remembered them clearly. This woman was Frederic Pattel’s second wife. The first never attended these things. She was too good to associate with women beneath her. Everyone knew Frederic loved his first wife, but she was also known to be a big bitch. So he got himself a second one, only good enough for sex and for attending public events. The other women agreed with her, nodding softly in unison. “How would you know what kind of woman Ethan likes?”

Upon learning that I had changed my name, he did a little digging and found out the truth about college. Someone blew the whistle on Tanner. The school expelled him. The administration hoped to bring me back, but once they heard that I had ended my life, the matter was dropped. Wandering in the big city with no purpose in life, Tanner spiraled hard into gambling. By the time I drifted back to Jean’s side, she was having poker night with her girls, chatting between hands. The conversations among the village women often revolved around three topics. Husbands, children, and the land were the only things they knew.

"To get my wife back." "Wrong answer." Lewis blinked. "Excuse me?" "You're not here to get your wife back." Dr. Walsh set down her pen. "You're here because you destroyed your marriage and you don't know how to live with that. Try again." "I failed her." "Closer. Keep going." "I made her invisible." The words came out flat. Factual. Like he was reading from a report. "Three years. I was right there and I made her disappear." Dr. Walsh wrote something. "How?"

His eyebrow lifted. "You don't remember?" "Remember what?" His other eyebrow lifted, that expression alone told me I had done something. Something bad, something humiliating and something I was apparently the only person unfortunate enough to have forgotten. I looked away and squeezed my eyes shut. Think...think, Lena. What happened last night? The horror movie. The wine. The bedroom and Salvatore. I tried to reconstruct the evening piece by piece. At first, there was nothing. Then— "Aren't you my husband?"

"And you walk in here at one in the morning with a folder of numbers and decide you know me better than I know myself." "I know what I'm holding in my hand." "You're holding a signature. Not a confession." "Then explain it, grandmother!." "I don't owe you an explanation for a crime I didn't commit." "You owe me five years, Grandmother." Julian's voice finally cracked, the fury underneath breaking through the control he'd held since the study. "My wife lost five years of her life. She lost her memory, her sense of who she was, because someone decided she'd found something she wasn't supposed to find. And every thread I've pulled on since has led back to this house, to this family, to an accou