The Wife He Never Loved Novels & Stories

The one question I knew would hurt me but I asked it anyway. “Did you ever regret marrying me?” Maybe he would say no, maybe he would give me one mercy before destroying me but Damien had never been a merciful man. He then looked me straight in the eyes and said, “That marriage should never have happened.” I could not believe and everything in me stopped, there was no sound, no tears, just pain, raw pain. I then stared at him, and for one second, I did not know this man. This could not be the same man who dragged me into his lap after midnight and kissed me until my knees gave out.

He continued, "Emma, who would be so available to a colleague? Who would do everything a couple is supposed to do with a colleague? Who would keep ditching her man for a colleague? Answer me, Emma. Do you really just see me as a colleague?" Emma froze at his words. Had she really crossed so many lines? "No wonder Nathan wants to leave me. I'm such an idiot!" Emma slapped herself hard. Heartbroken, Keegan rushed forward to grab her hand. "Don't touch me!" Emma yelled, shoving him away. "I only love Nathan. He'll always be my husband," she said coldly. Keegan's face crumpled in sadness. "Emma, do I—" Before he could finish, Emma grabbed her suitcase and walked out without a second glance.

And to see the man I loved first… whom I know I will never see again. How can I ever escape this kind of life? "Ms. Soledad?" Ms.? I smiled bitterly. Six years already married. A husband who doesn’t truly exist. "Yes?" I asked, smiling. "Please come in, said the Vice President," the secretary said. I smiled sweetly and thanked her. I stood from my seat and was guided by one of the security personnel. My grip on my bag strap tightened. My heart always does this when entering this enormous mansion. This is where I last saw him—the man who brought chaos into my life and changed it forever.

“Elena. You are his wife, not an email he can answer later. Wanting time with the man you love does not make you difficult.” The words hit cleanly because they were true. “I think I needed to leave the house today,” I said. “Obviously.” “Not to run from him.” “I know. To remember yourself.” We sat with that for a while. Then Lila, being Lila, lightened the mood again by daring me to rate Damien’s recent husband performance like a school report card. “Effort: A.” “Attendance: C.” “Kissing: A plus.” “Coming home early: incomplete.”

“Don't you feel ashamed? You were married to that woman, yet you never knew her well enough to recognize her when she returned. Her full name was Shirley Evelyn Miller. Even if her face had changed beyond recognition, you should have known who she was. You should have remembered her name, her mannerisms, the things she cared about. You should have known your own wife.” Damien's shoulders slumped. He had no defence. Every word his father spoke brought back another memory of the woman he had failed to understand. He had known her as his wife, yet he had never bothered to learn who she was beyond the role he expected her to play. Theodore's voice grew heavier. “You wanted to question me, but be

"And you made me into a fool. Seven years, Lorenzo. Seven years of lying to my face. You never filed the marriage certificate. You let me believe I was your wife while you graded me against a dozen other women. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?" "I know. I know." He was weeping now, ugly, slurred sobs that I had never heard from him before. "I'll fix it. I'll marry you properly. I'll announce it tomorrow, the real wedding, the real ceremony. I'll throw Sofia out. I'll give you everything. Just come back." I let the silence stretch for a long moment. Then I said: "You don't love me. You love what I built for you. And now that I've taken it away, you're terrified. But that's not

For the first time since she walked in. Gray eyes. Cold. Clear. Unblinking. The same eyes that used to soften when I returned home years ago. The same eyes that went dead when I told her “business comes first” for the third night in a row. Now they were nothing but glass. No smile. No mercy. She shrugged. One shoulder. Barely a movement. Casual. Dismissive. Like I’d asked her about the weather. Like I’d asked her what time it was. Like five years, a marriage, and a company meant as much as “partly cloudy.”

"The arrangement was always for you to marry Miguel Antonio. That was the deal we struck with his family. A wife is a wife, Mara. It doesn't matter which sister he gets. The merger goes through either way." I felt like I couldn't breathe. "A wife is a wife?" I whispered. "Mother, he doesn't want me. He wanted Clara. This entire marriage is built on a lie, on deception. How am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to wake up every morning next to a man who didn't choose me, who thought he was getting someone else?"

Beside her, Adrian showed no visible reaction whatsoever, as though being interrogated at dinner was a completely normal part of his routine. William shook his head lightly. “When I proposed to my wife, I spent three entire weekends following her through boutiques pretending to have opinions about lace.” “You complained the entire time,” Evelyn corrected calmly before taking another sip of wine. “That’s not the point.” “It seems very relevant to the point.” Selena bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Somehow, hearing William Kingston casually talk about arguing with his wife over wedding dresses felt surreal. This was still the same man capable of making half the countr

"How could she hit you so hard? And you just stood there and watched, Jesse. Have you forgotten Sinead is your wife?" I was already a little upset. "She has already married someone else with your approval. Have you forgotten that?" Sinead's mother choked on her words and fell silent. After a while, she spoke again. "But that wasn't real. It was only an act. You're the only one taking it seriously." I rolled my eyes. They had all treated those solemn wedding vows as an act, but I couldn't. In fact, I found it filthy. Besides, it had been five years, and they had never told me about Zachary.