The Way Of Househusband Novels & Stories

Had she been wearing the same outfit? So, David was cheating on his wife with street girls. Was that enough to give Vargas his entry onto sacred ground? Rhychard still wasn't sure how everything worked. It seemed there was a lot of gray between the Way and the Void, and he was never really sure where the line was that crossed you over from one side to the other. Most people he knew were middle of the road types. They lived their lives without ever stepping into a church except for weddings or funerals. They didn't strive to do good deeds, but they didn't go around stealing or killing people, either. They survived.

For a moment, he flounders for the words… "… a professional wife, that is of course, an option for you. If it's what you want, I'm sure looking after this house and its grounds would keep you busy. Such a home is a full-time career in its own right." My mouth flaps open. Then closed again. "A professional wife? Master, I wouldn't know where to start."

“G-Get out of my way.” He shook his head. “What kind of husband am I if I let my wife go, knowing fully well that it's not safe out there?” He reached for my bag, but I swatted him away. “You don’t own me Kaida Crawford, get that into your deceitful skull. I’m your wife, not a thing.” “Get out of my way.” He stepped closer, jaw clenched. “No.” “Caging me like a bird wouldn’t make me love you, you’re only making it worse.”

The chicken hopped around for a moment before dropping a steaming pile of poop onto my custom-made designer couch. Then it took off racing around the living room, scattering feathers and dust everywhere. That was the last straw. I pointed at the two women, my voice shaking with rage. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Get out!" Martha Wilson showed no sign of remorse. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips, spat on the floor in my direction, and sneered. "Shut your mouth, you bitch. From now on, we're Ryan's first and second wives. And you think you can throw us out?"

“Ms. Sanders, medically speaking, there’s no such thing as physiological dependency. That ‘strange illness’ doesn’t exist.” My heart sank completely. So, the “strange illness” had been nothing but Jeremy’s excuse for his infidelity. I forced a bitter smile and paid the medical bills. The nurse who had treated me gave me a sympathetic look. “Where’s your husband? You’re hurt like this, and he hasn’t come to see you?” “Some women have it easier. There’s another patient ahead, just diagnosed pregnant, and her husband has been with her the whole time. He’s so attentive. I heard that because she has sensitive skin, they even gave her a private VIP room for her checkups.”

The best and fastest way to win his heart over is to live with him under the same roof. In addition, Tan won't be hiring a housemaid to avoid hypocrisy in the house. Meaning that she would be the one to take care and maintain the harmony and the neatness of the house. That actually sounds fine to her. She knew how to do household chores anyway. If she wanted to cook, she could just search it up on the internet. She was confident that it wouldn't be a hassle at all. But thinking about the reason why he was doing all that slightly pinched her heart.

I took off my sunglasses and stared at the lake, ringed by snowy peaks, then drew in a slow breath. "Matteo, I don't have a home anymore." Matteo scoffed, something deadly flashing in his eyes. "Non preoccuparti. As long as I'm still breathing, you've got a home here. In this place, no one lays a hand on you or Luna." Later that night, after I'd tucked Luna in, I played the recording for Matteo. When it was over, he stayed quiet, cleaning his gun as the steel gleamed cold in his gaze.

You know those days when you're absolutely certain you hate someone's guts? Every little thing about them drives you crazy the way they scrunch their nose at your cooking, the critical tone when they point out dust on a shelf, the cold indifference in their eyes when they walk past you like you're invisible. That's how I feel about him. Julian Blackwood. My boss. The billionaire who treats me like I'm beneath his notice unless I'm doing something wrong. And then I found out someone wanted him dead. I should have let it happen. I should have kept my mouth shut and watched the empire crumble around the man who made my life miserable. But here's the thing about hate it's dangero

I was named Lorelei Ellwood. I was 30 years old and a full-time housewife. My husband, Caspian Birch, was not only dashing but also incredibly gentle. He doted on me constantly and refused to let me suffer even the slightest bit of grievance. He indulged my every whim, no matter how unreasonable, and went above and beyond to satisfy my material needs. His devotion made everyone around me green with envy. However, I carried a secret I couldn't tell anyone. None of them knew that Caspian was impotent.

"Baby,I can't take this anymore,why will you always treat me like a kid,am your husband for Christ sake we are both married,I married you into my house as my wife,for you to take care of me as a wife to her husband,even I don't have the opportunity to eat my wife's meal in this house anymore,it's either I cook or your maid cook,and you expect me to eat her meal when she is not my wife,all you know and committed is your business, don't I work as well,but I always try to create space for you,but you always turn down my advances and effort towards you",