The Wife Who Walked Away นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“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.”

"You're awake! I came back to check on you. Adrian let me in." "That's nice of you," I said flatly. I grabbed my purse from the counter. My keys. My phone. "Where are you going?" Adrian asked, his voice tight. "Grocery shopping," I said. "We're out of milk." "I can go—" "I need the air." I walked past them both without another word. Didn't look back. Didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. The door closed behind me, and I kept walking. Down the stairs. Out of the building. Down the street.

“And try to keep your weight intact. My son only fancies slim girls.” She walked away when she was done speaking and I was left grieving once again. It felt as if someone had dug out my heart and poured acid into the spot from which it was removed. I felt tears threatening to spill out but I did not want to cry. At least not here. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of watching me cry. After everything I had done, this was how they chose to repay me. And I had no idea what to do. After what happened today, I was sure Sal didn’t want to be in this marriage but I couldn’t divorce him.

“Where is she?” “She’s not at the facility anymore. We tracked the car to the psychiatric center she mentioned… but they said she left ages ago.” “Left how? With who?” “No idea. Their logs say she walked out alone. No one’s seen her since.” I was boiling from the inside. My vision blurred—not from rage, but from the sheer madness of it all. My pregnant wife, alone, in a city crawling with enemies, under my name and face plastered across headlines as a wanted murderer.

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.

"You said —" "I said no to waiting. I said no to delay. I said no to the idea that Adam Ballard's temporary inconvenience should be allowed to derail something that two families have spent years building. I told Elias that I didn't care if you woke up, if you stayed in a coma forever, if you spent the next forty years drooling into a pillow in a care facility. I was going to be your wife. Not your fiancée. Your wife. And I was going to be your wife before you woke up, so that when — if — you opened your eyes, the decision would already be made."

"What did you say!?" William jumped up, grabbing Francis by the throat fiercely. Emily had not expected William to react so strongly and muttered, "How interesting. She'd rather run away than apologize. Look what your precious wife did! You've spoiled her rotten!" William's previous affection for Emily had vanished entirely. He turned to face her, glaring through gritted teeth and growled, "I'm glad you know that she's my real wife." Then, he put on his clothes and headed straight for the basement.

With Alice clinging to him? Nothing. Instead, it was Lucia's face that hit him. Her lips. That sweet, lingering taste... He jerked to his feet. Alice stumbled back into the seat, eyes wide with shock. Jared's voice went ice-cold. "Who said I'm divorcing Lucia? Until I sign those papers, she's still my wife." And with that, he stormed out—leaving Alice pale, speechless, and alone. *** Jared burst through the front door. "Lucia! Lucia, come out!" he shouted, voice echoing through the house.