The Wife Who Slept Alone Novels & Stories

I couldn't fall asleep; I kept tossing and tossing until I found a perfect spot, but that spot didn't even make it better for me, as when the silence settled in, the reality of being alone hit me. At least when I was pregnant with Ivy, William was around; he slept in our bed, and weirdly, some nights he would even cuddle me, but that was only the first year. I didn't feel alone back then, but now, I don't even know when tears found their way to my cheeks, my hands traveled to my flat belly, and when I remembered I was going to marry a stranger within a matter of time, I couldn't help but scream.

she says. "Mama please.My wife doesn't need ai stress. I'll take your luggage,"he says carrying it. "You call this snake a wife.Shs is going to kill you in your sleep,"she says. She elevates her stinking feet on my chairs.

A moment later, a helpless look crossed the man's stern face. He lowered his voice and said solemnly. “Alone, I cannot sleep well.” He seems to be compromising. Some things were so strange that even he himself couldn't explain why. Before she didn't come to him, he used to be alone, eat alone, sleep alone. He never felt there was anything wrong with it. However, after the big wedding, after getting used to her daily docile company, he was no longer used to sleeping alone.

“Do you think every woman goes around sleeping with her colleagues?” All those two years… Waiting. Trusting and crying alone. And still… Even to my surprise, I didn’t break in front of her. “I didn’t go around sleeping with colleagues,” she said, slightly annoyed. “I slept with a man who needed me as much as I needed him.” “But that man had a wife at home.” “Well… that made it more interesting.” She laughed. “Every time he talked about you… it made me feel so good…” My stomach twisted.

(Ava’s POV) It was 11:47 p.m at night. I have spent another night alone. Another night of waiting for a man whose scent still lingered on the pillow but hadn’t touched me in thirty days. Leon Vance — my husband who is both my sin and my salvation. The silk sheets that I lay on were cold, and too smooth for a new couple. I pressed the remote, and the big TV came to life, gleaming with nude images. Sounds filled the air. Moans that weren’t mine.

She had replaced her sister and got married to her sister's fiancé who was a cripple and had a scar on his face, not that she had seen it; he was wearing a mask on their wedding day They were supposed to spend the night together as it was their wedding night, but apparently her husband thought differently because from looking at the other side of the bed there was no indentation there. He did not return home last night, nor did he come to the room. She slept alone. She was somehow relieved as she was not ready to fulfill her duties as a wife yet. Charlotte got up from the bed and went directly to the bathroom to take a hot bath in the tub. She sighed and relaxed back, it's been so long since

TWO YEARS AND THREE MONTHS BACK “Benny proposed last night saying I was the only woman he could ever imagine as his wife. Can you tuck inagine? The fucker dared to say it to my face while fucking that Bitch-are you even listening? Hey! Rara!” I jolted forward when someone shook me by the shoulders.

"Oh my, James is seriously amazing in bed! Let me know when you're going to divorce him!" She had been lounging on Mason's bed at the time, collecting material for the paparazzi. She remembered how her temper had exploded when she received the message. She hadn't expected anyone in Glorisia to be brave enough to send her such a provocative message. A few seconds later, she received a photo of James' sleeping face. That was when she realized that she actually cared about James. It was also why she rushed home like a maniac to confront him. Wanda lost her mind when she saw the rumpled bedsheets and the scratch marks on his body. She couldn't deny that she had told him that they were free to se

Elena leaned against the kitchen counter as though deciding where to begin. “Her husband passed away several years ago.” She spoke slowly, choosing her memories with care. “We met during one of the foundation’s community housing programmes.” “She lives alone?” “Mostly.” Elena nodded. “Her grandson works overseas.” He waited. “She says the apartment becomes too quiet if nobody visits.” The simplicity of the explanation somehow made it heavier. “You never told me.” She looked at him kindly. “I mentioned her many times.” He smiled at himself more than at the situation.

It turned out that Wilson's other woman was a reporter. I had seen her on TV, grilling interviewees with her sharp wit, a stunning beauty with an iron will. I kept tabs on her every move once I knew she was my husband's mistress. Every time she was on air, I was watching. Her looks and killer instincts had made her a star in the news world. They called her the Beauty Sniper online, a nod to her ability to make any story she touched explode into the limelight. The next night, she became the lead story on the evening news.