The Husband Novel Novels & Stories

‎Apart from the boners and crazy words I get called, everything else was blissful. ‎Here I was in bed thinking about how the hell I was supposed to leave the house without my husband or his workers asking where I was going. And besides he said we had to talk so he could tell me my role and how this marriage was going to work. ‎I read ad watched too much mafia stories that I feel I won't have freedom to do pretty much anything. ‎I picked up my phone and called Claudia. ‎"I heard you girl are now a married woman" she laughed dropping the phone on the mirror for me to get a proper view of her face.

My head was still pounding so I grabbed the coffee she prepared but her hands snap my hand away. “that’s not yours! Get your own damn coffee!” “Alright, since you already have called me a stupid oaf and I don’t remember anything, may I know why my wife is sending me death glares?” “You want to know why dear husband?” Opening her notebook, she furiously wrote “I’m actually writing it on my diary. First day as a married woman. Our wedding was blissful and happy. My husband promised to give me my wedding night after days of halting our sexual intercourse. I was excited to consummate our marriage when my dear husband fell asleep in the middle of his seduction. The worst part was I got locked out

“My husband calls me love.” He hummed. “Your husband…” “Yes. My cheating, piece of shit husband.” “Ah. Now I see what the large problem is.” I was about to have another shot, but he stopped me, placing his hand on mine. I turned to him with my teeth bared, ready to curse him out when he leaned down, getting so close to me, I could smell his expensive cologne and feel his warmth, and whispered, “Your husband is a damn fool, letting a work of art like you slip through his fingers.”

“God, it’s like a romance novel. Anyway, my ex-husband gets rich in the meantime, right? Between you and me, I’m not really sure how he made that much money so fast. I bet that he got involved with the wrong sort of crowd.” I raised a brow at her. “Like, what? The mob?” “Exactly,” she shuddered. “Thank God I got out. One moment, he’s trying to find investors for his company, and the next, he’s making millions. He’s not nearly as rich as you, but enough to make her come crawling back after her husband dumps her for a younger model. So, she comes back and starts sniffing around my husband. And guess who still has feelings for that hussy?”

Storming outside my room, I pause at the door to his room, sounds of a woman riding on throes of orgasms, filters through the open crack, I grit my teeth hard. What would people say if they saw a woman with her legs spread out, in between her legs, my husband of a few days, sliding in and out of her? Opening the door a crack, his eyes find mine. He keeps his dark eyes on me, bringing a lit cigarette in between his lips, I can’t take this anymore. Pushing the large oak doors open, that doesn’t stop her, her eyes are shut. How could he do this?? How did I end up with a man like this??

My skin burned for ten minutes. Eli did not brush past me. He stopped in the doorway. He looked down at my bare feet, then at my face. He said nothing. He just waited. I realized then that he would not push. He would not pressure. He would stand in my doorway forever if that was what I wanted. That made him more dangerous than Luca. By far. I stepped aside. They walked in. And I closed the door behind them, knowing that everything was about to change. But I still did not know what my husband wanted.

“You’ve given that man three years of your light, Evelyn. Let Paris be the place you remember who you were before him.” Before Khalid. Before the whirlwind romance at the Met Gala, before I’d quietly closed my design studio to become the wife who understood his late nights and global ambitions. Before Natasha returned and I became furniture in my own marriage. I looked across the studio to the small desk where my laptop sat. The manuscript file was open. *The Husband I Once Loved*. The title still made my stomach clench. Khalid had read the first seventy pages last night. The confrontation that followed had been brutal—his hurt, my exhaustion, the way his voice cracked when he asked if I rea

Our words were getting more colourful the more we talked, and we forgot about the woman who can snap our necks in a second if she wished to. "Low class really? That's all you could come up with, Sweetie? listen here, at this moment I doubt you could have an erection at all, otherwise why would I be here as your wife?" Okay, that time I really pushed his buttons, and I could see my name written on a tombstone. 'Here lies Sophia Kathlyn Stademan, married for an hour, and died in the hands of her husband.' Is it too long? I think so but at this moment I swear that's what I imagined.

That touch had been nothing but comfort. I wasn’t the one who used to cheat on this marriage. “My wife is still working…” I was focused on my tasks when an annoyingly handsome man decided to become an uninvited distraction. Or... the kind of distraction I, actually, needed. “I guess she’s too busy to look at me,” he added from behind my desk. “The husband was being an asshole,” I replied flatly, not looking up, “which is why the wife was distracting herself before she choked him to death.”

She glanced over her shoulder like the walls had ears, then stepped closer. “I think I know why your husband can’t… touch you. Why he’s impotent with women.” I arched my brow, already bored. “Enlighten me.” She leaned in, voice a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s gay, my lady.” I stared at her for a heartbeat, then I almost laughed. That pretty, soft spoken, impotent little husband of mine. Gay. Of course. It explained everything, the gentle eyes that never lingered too long on my body, the complete lack of hunger when I stood naked before him, the faint trace of color on his lips this morning that I’d mistaken for blood.