The Wife He Broke นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He read them and slumped on the bed. “No, no, no.” He screamed. So, it was not a dream. He had lost Elena. He had divorced her. His wife was with someone else now. He had let her go. He should have saved her, but instead he betted her. “Urrgghhhhhh.” He bawled at his own eyes and screamed. What kind of a man he had become. He had lost his job and she had supported him. He had lied to her, she still supported him. He raised his hand on her, she still didn’t say a word. Now, he betted her and she is gone. His angel wife was gone. God knows what she must be going through. That bastard must have done terrible things to her. He stood up. He had to bring his wife back. He had to get her back. He

He spoke, his‍ voice so l‍ow I fe‌lt it⁠ in my bone⁠s. “My w‌ife is breaking,” he said.‍ It⁠ was just a fac‌t. “Sh⁠e ne​ed‍s a reason. You’⁠re the⁠ new variable. The c‌hange. It’s s​imple ma⁠th t‍o her.” I s‍aid n‌othing. I just held t‌h‍e stupid cof‍fee.‌

I threw my drink down onto the ground like a toddler throwing his toys. Waitresses and Tania cooed and hovered around me, asking if I was okay like it was the glass' fault that I broke it. My wife all but jumped out of her skin at the sound of glass breaking. Our eyes met across the room and she gasped, shrieking away from the men casually trying to lay hands on her arms and lower back. She squeezed her thighs together the moment we locked eyes. Then she waved at me sheepishly, pointing towards me, her fuming former undisputed heavyweight champion husband. The men around her backed away quickly, but the fists on either side of me quaked with malicious rage.

If I show him that this bothers me, he will continue to do it. Before entering Max’s room, I knock on the door. When I don’t get a response, I slowly open it and say, “Maxwell, you will need to get up or you will be late for work. I am making breakfast for you and your friend. Here are her clothes.” I drop the clothes just inside the door. Maxwell groans, and the woman asks, “Who is that?” Max is quick to respond, “That’s my wife. I would introduce you, but I forgot your name.” The woman leaves in a huff.

It was then I noticed that idiot making a pass at my so called wife and that damn stupid woman seemed to be enjoying it from where I stood and could see them. There was no way she was going to ruin this for me. Not after I've reached this far and so close to getting what I want. I kindly excused myself before walking to Joel and my wife who went by the name of Sierra. Her tastes were even more pathetic when it came to choosing men. Seriously? My useless brother of all people who couldn't keep his thing erect. I really had a dumb wife. No wonder dad chose her to be my wife.

“You’re crossing a line.” Nathaniel held my gaze. For a moment neither of us spoke. Then I said, deliberately, “Don’t say my wife’s name.” I warned. The word wife came out automatically, as if she was still mine. As if we weren’t in the middle of a very messy, very public divorce. Nathaniel noticed, and somehow that seemed to irritate him even more. “Your wife,” he repeated, “was treated like an inconvenience in her own home.” “That is not your problem.”

A week ago, the news broke that I'd filed a lawsuit against my wife of more than 20 years, Hazel Cooper, the woman who had shared my bed and my life for over half my adulthood. From that moment on, I became the neighborhood's favorite villain. Everyone called me the heartless man who had climbed his way to success and abandoned his wife and child without remorse. In their eyes, Hazel was flawless. She'd married me when I was poor and struggling. She never complained, even when life was hard. She cared for my sickly mother until her final days. She raised our son almost entirely on her own and turned him into a top student, the kind every family boasted about.

He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Lena is not a slave, and I need her to…” “Go” he cuts me off. “The woman would not be leaving.” “But…” “That’s final. Now leave Maria.” Walter roars with laughter along with the scantily dressed women perched on his laps. “Dear me! I’ve heard about the way you discipline the women in your household, but I didn’t think it extended to even your wife.” Cheeks burning in humiliation, I hurry out of the room with Walter’s maid before Sebastain can say something worse.

Arabella Whitmore is gone. People posted messages of condolence. They remembered her as the fortunate woman who had married into the Ashcroft family. No one knew she had lived among them all this time, yet never truly been seen. No one knew that the face they once admired was broken — not only by the accident, but by the very people who should have protected her, and who had cast her aside so quickly. There was Leonard, spoken of as the grieving husband. Margaret, the grandmother mourning her loss. Even Vanessa was mentioned briefly, as a family friend sharing their sorrow.

He has moved on in his life and that woman doesn't matter to him anymore! The woman because of whom at one time he was completely broken, switched to alcohol in order to forget the pain of betrayal and maybe she's the reason he hates woman, more specifically gold diggers like his wife whom he sees as one, a gold digging woman that married a prince for his riches!!