The Husband She Took For Granted Novels & Stories

I was someone who took her for granted and drove her away from me. I wouldn't presume to believe that I could get her back. But at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if there was ever going to be a future for her and I again. Neal was a good man, no matter how much I detested him for taking her away from me. I couldn't blame him. She was wonderful, beautiful even. She was everything a man would desire to have a wife, a companion, a partner, and I had taken her for granted. I let her slip away from me.

They just never really had love for each other. Her husband treated her like a friend. She suspected he was with other women, but was very discreet and no one ever knew to her knowledge. At least she never caught him with another woman. Her only regret is all the loveless years she wasted with him. The years of lack of affection had taken their toll on her mentality.

My husband came to see me and I was overjoyed to see him but I noticed that his face looked a little dark as he looked at me and my heart throbbed inside of my chest. Every single thing I enjoyed was because of my husband. If I ever lose his generosity, if he suddenly decided that I was no longer in his favour that would mean that it was all over for me and I would have to go back to living my miserable life that was to say if even that was available for me anymore.

And when he teased her about going overboard, she’d smile and say, “It’s the only day the whole family gets to be together. Why not make it perfect?” Back then, he’d brag to his friends that he had the perfect wife—obedient, homely, gentle. His pride. His comfort. That was before he started cheating on her , and saw her as a maid, a roommate instead of a dearly beloved wife . He thought there was someone better than her. He thought Penelope was the perfect woman. Now, as he poured salt and chopped vegetables into the eggs, a dull ache spread through his chest. He stared at the sizzling pan, lost in the rhythm of the oil.

Did she realize that, from this moment forward, she was mine? I leaned in, not enough to touch, but close enough. “From now on,” I whispered, “you’ll answer to me.” I stepped even closer, watching as her big eyes. “Your husband is a fool,” I murmured, voice low and collected. She tensed but didn’t respond. Good! I liked it better when she listened. Well, something else that didn’t quite bother me was the fact her husband was willing to give her up to save himself. Jerk!

he snapped. “For your heir,” I corrected. “For your position. Never for me.” His eyes darkened. “You were my wife.” “And still,” I said, “you never chose me when it counted.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t want a man who loves me after he loses me,” I continued. “I needed you when I was standing in front of you. Not now. Not like this.” His voice rose, control slipping. “You’re throwing everything away—for what? A quiet life? A man who doesn’t know what you are?”

You should be thinking about more than just the three of us. When he finished, he shrugged off his coat and headed for the bathroom. I stood there, listening to the water run, like I could hear my heart breaking right along with it. He could go on about how hard it was for Eliana to raise a child alone, but he never once counted the nights I held Luna in the dark while she sobbed. Everything I did, every sacrifice I made, went unseen. Compared to Eliana, the woman Lorenzo had grown up with, my love barely even existed to him.

The streets below were busy with midday traffic, and the company signs across the district carried the family name. Yet the realization that stayed with me had nothing to do with the contracts, the frozen accounts, or the board inquiries. I sat back down on the sofa, resting my head against my hands. She had genuinely cared about our marriage. She had stayed in that home, offering patience and commitment, while I spent five years taking her for granted and prioritizing someone else—until she had no choice left but to leave.

Ryan stood beside me and read them off one by one. "All of this..." "Is that the last one?" "There's one more. It says you wanted a divorce because you..." "Because I what?" "Because you'd fallen for someone else." I paused. Then I started to laugh. I had spent every waking moment of my last life trying to be a good wife to Marcus. I'd learned to cook for him. And still he avoided me at every turn. Whenever he had a free hour, he was either out on business or with Selena. He'd cut off my contact with the outside world and then refused to come near me, letting me rot quietly inside that estate. And now the story was that I'd left him for another man.

“Giving and loving are not the same thing.” Her lips thinned. “You young people… always dramatic. You think marriage is some fairy tale. You think a husband should pamper you, worship you, read your mind. You don’t value what you already have.” My jaw tightened. “I value honesty and respect.” “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You barely try. You run home to your father’s pack whenever you’re upset. You lock yourself in that guest room. You keep threatening divorce because you don’t get your way—”