The Wife You Left Novels & Stories

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.

She said almost shouting. I was shocked by the tone of her voice. I glared at her. "What do you mean by that?" I said seriously. "Your wife is gone! She left you! Why do you think I’m here instead of her?! Because she already left you! She left with Alex! They cheated on us! They left us!” She said while she is crying so loud. I shake my head. That’s impossible! My wife will never do that! “What are you saying?” I said still in disbelief.

my mother's voice was ice. "Sofia, are you insane?" Dante didn't lower his weapon. "Isabella is my wife!" "Ex-wife," my mother corrected him. "The moment she was declared dead, your marriage was over." "That was a stunt she pulled!" "Yes, and I arranged it," she admitted. "Because I wouldn't stand by and watch you destroy my daughter." "I never wanted to destroy her!" "Didn't you?" Mom advanced on him. "Leaving her to face a hit alone? Humiliating her in her own home? You call that love?"

“Melody, stop making a scene. It won’t do you any good. “I promise you that you’ll always be my wife. You’re my only legal wife.” The most ridiculous part was that even my friends tried to talk me down. “Gregory’s great at earning money. You should be grateful. He gives you all his money and keeps you in his heart. What more do you want?” “It’s true that he flirts around with other women, but you’re still the one who matters the most to him. As a woman, you need to be more big-hearted. There’s no need to cause such a fuss over it.”

Loud, bitter, and painful. Clap. Clap. Clap. “Oh, so now we’re husband and wife? Now, after I left the house because I was ‘suffocating’ you? Now, after you called me cruel… Now, after I watched my family burn and you had nothing but coldness to give? Now you remember we’re husband and wife?” I stepped back, breathing hard. “Well, dear Killian,” I said slowly, “I’m not coming with you. I’d like to stay here.”

Maria cried out loud her shoulder is shaking and she's tightly gripping my shirt. "Wish you we're my wife too..." We have the right love but at the wrong time.

I was portrayed as a woman who had emotionally withdrawn long before she physically left with a perfect husband who had been consumed by grief and the distance the wife had created, deserting her husband and lovely marriage and channeling everything into her work and nothing into her home. The anniversary dinner was set in a way that framed Charles as waiting alone for a wife who had already left in every way that mattered. I set the article down on my desk after I finished reading it. "Again," I muttered to myself. I sat back in my chair, and I thought through what I had just read clearly. It had to be Natasha; the details in this piece did not come from a journalist. The anniversary dinner

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 stocks, the bonds, the accounts I'd barely had four years to enjoy before the cancer came. "He'll take care of everything," I whispered, more to convince myself than Whitmore. "He's my husband. He loves me." Whitmore's silence spoke volumes, but he gathered the documents without argument. He'd tried to talk me out of this three times already. Suggested trusts, stipulations, safeguards. But I was tired. So tired. And I wanted to believe that my life hadn't been as lonely as it felt in this sterile hospital room. "There is one more thing," I said, my voice cracking. "My last wish. I want to see Adrian. One more time. At the estate."

*Amelia* "You heard me right; all I want is for us to live as a real married couple for one more month. After that, I’ll be gone for good.” I said to Adrian, who couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely he had expected me to demand a huge amount of money or a mansion or something like that, but what on earth was I going to do with all that when all I had remaining was just six months, and I can’t even think of a single thing worth holding onto in this world anymore? My mother, who was the only person who loved me with all her heart, was already gone, and as for my father, since my mum passed away, he had made it clear to me over and over again that I meant nothing to him.