The Wife Lament Novels & Stories

LUCAS POV I was heartbroken, and my heart seemed to break into a million pieces as I scrutinized the anguish reflected on my wife's face. I clenched my fist while I couldn't help but tighten my jaw. I was devastated as I assumed we would have no more challenging situations. But look at this: I was dumbfounded to find out that there is more. Heart-wrenching is the best way to describe my feelings towards my wife, not pity. At this moment, I really want to punch Uncle Elias face until it bleeds and see wounded pain so I can get revenge on my wife's behalf. If I can do that now, I will undoubtedly do it without regret.

“Look at your wife. She’s a horrible woman. Not only did she choke Lory to cause her miscarriage, but she wasn’t even regretful. She gave Lory a slap! You’re to blame for this for spoiling her endlessly!” Zachary glanced at Lorraine, whose nose was still bleeding, before looking back at Jebediah swiftly. “Can’t help it. That’s how spoiled my wife is. Why are you still complaining about it now?” What! Jebediah thought that his ears were playing tricks on him! Lorraine, who was wallowing in sorrow, felt worse.

“When my wife died , her shares were left behind and she told me that , I should give her part of the share to the next woman that I would marry and that was her parting gift to me and so now that I have finally decided to remarry , I have decided to give the shared to my new wife whom is seated down here and that only means that she’s second in command to me and after he its hers . You all give her the same respect that you give to me , I don’t give a fuch about what you think of our Union , but what you think is nothing but rubbish shd I don’t care . “Let me sound this as a warning to every human being that is in this room , on no account should you dare to disrespect my wife , I do not ca

It isn't locked. Of course! Her husband was a free spirit who hardly cared about his life. Sleeping in a stranger's house was bad enough. Mrs Contreras opened the door and crept in. Her husband was sadly snoring away. It's 6 for goodness sake. She ruffled her husband badly to get him up as quick as she could. There was no time to waste if Ema ever had a past here, it was foolish to keep staying anywhere that could trigger back her lost memories.

She won’t sink alone on this ship. “Because I loved your son like my own. I loved you and… and even when at times I felt shitty, I still tried to be the best wife. Did you see me cry? Have you ever heard me complain? I kept a smile on my face while trying to maintain this marriage, when I felt like I didn’t know myself. You’re out-of-town trips, the constant calls outside of working hours, and that unfamiliar perfume scent on your clothes? I turned a blind eye because I never wanted to believe you’re cheating on me.” “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Hyacinth. Honey, I’ll make it up to you. I promise you things will be right this time. We’ll move to a new place! Please. Please give me another ch

She reached for Layla’s hands, stroking them gently. “I don’t know how to begin,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I am so sorry. We’re ashamed of ourselves. Every one of us regrets it.” Layla's eyes darted from one figure to another until they landed on the man she must have assumed to be her husband. He hasn't said anything since they walked in, and he's not making eye contact with her. 'Wait, don't tell me they are family?' she thought, but quickly brushed it off. There's no way she's related to either of them, except for the man who looks so much like her.

There she was, frantically pulling her clothes back on. The woman I had sworn to love for the rest of my life, my wife, Ysabel Walter. Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks still flushed. The designer heels I’d bought her were tossed aside like garbage. Her clothes were in disarray, baring a glimpse of those unfamiliar lace panties. “Ysabel, come out here and explain.” My voice was unusually cold. Her face was drained of color. Her hands trembled as she straightened her clothes, standing up slowly from the bushes and unable to meet my gaze.

Only strategy. The priest paused. “Do you, Mira Lanford, take this man to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and health, to love, and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God’s holy will. Will you pledge to him, your faithfulness?”

Lilian cursed viciously. The hospital staff said that they couldn't reach Lilian. Yet the woman at the end of the hallway, cursing and wishing Wesley dead, was none other than my unreachable wife. At that moment, the Lilian I had once loved seemed utterly despicable in my eyes.

“Then tell me.” I closed my eyes and let the words tumble out, heavy and raw. “Do you know what it feels like when your own husband doesn’t see you as a wife anymore? When he brings other women into your own bed, our matrimonial bed and lies with them as though you don’t even exist?” Elena froze, her mouth parting, but I pressed on as the memories spilled too fast now.