Three Years Wasted, I Married Mr·right Novels & Stories

Lena said. "You're my wife." He said it without inflection, and somehow that was worse than if he'd said it warmly, because it meant he genuinely saw no contradiction between the word and the cold calculation underneath it. "The terms are whatever we decide to make them." Lena finished her pasta in silence, considering the offer, considering the apartment around her, considering the specific exhaustion in her own body that came from three years of working two jobs and still not quite catching up. She thought about her sister's husband's voice through the wall. She thought about what her aunt had said about not falling in love, and how easy that instruction seemed standing across from a man w

he winked and this time I laughed making Ella and Bob laugh too "Aww so cute,"Ella commented. I raised my brow at her and we both smiled again. I turned to face Jade who was also smiling and I frowned. He chuckled at that expression and my heart blushed I held his hand that was on the table "Jade.." "Say yes!" "I..I..am married and i love my husband!" "Age?" "It's just a number.." He sigh "I'm not giving up on you."he said with a serious face and a line of wrinkles showing on his forehead. We stared like that for some while

Truly, I am shameless right? I couldn't believe that my marriage was already ending in such an unlikely manner. So after three years, I couldn't even achieve a good home or even a good husband. The tears I've been holding finally slid down my cheeks. My heart was broken, not at the fact that the contract marriage between us was already ending but the fact that I had wasted three years of my life loving a man who was in love with another woman. Ohh... How stupid I am. I just realized that now. My heart stung with immense pain only at the thought of it alone. Max hadn't even considered my plight for once.

I answered fast and realized it, "No, I said this is about my friend." "Please, Miss. I know you. The answer to your champagne problem and rich people's dilemma is to accept the yacht and fuck him. You said it yourself, you're sexually attracted to him, and he's your husband, it's a fake marriage, but still, and one way or another you two will always fuck." "Harley, your mouth is too much." "Ms, Irina, with all due respect. You look like you're enjoying Dr. Waldorf. I'm sure my choice of scandalous words is nothing compared to the deed that you two had done." My eyes widened.

Disposing of it would only be a waste. When Jessie was done in the kitchen, she found her way to the room. When the wedding is over, she and Mark would be moving to a bigger place where they would raise their kids together. Never in her wildest dream had she ever thought she would be getting the things she had always wanted. A man that loves her and wants to build a family with her. She couldn't stop smiling as she opened her closet.

But Jennifer pushed him away. “What's wrong, babe?” He asked calmly. “You are avoiding your mother's call because of me,” she said. “I am yet to give you a child.” “Hmm,” Mike exhaled heavily. “”We've been through this, babe. We just have to keep trying. I will wait.” Hearing him say that, a warm smile crossed her lips. Mike was the best man in the world. The two were married for three years already and shared nothing but love. When it was morning, Mike was trying to get breakfast ready while his woman was in bed. He was still in the kitchen when Jennifer walked in, dressed up already.

“It was. Still is.” For a second, neither of us spoke. I tried to make out what was wrong with him, then started forward, so he stopped by the last stair. “The day I signed the papers was when I tagged myself free of any stupid marriage.” His shoulders tensed at the words. “It wasn't stupid. It was —is— real.” “Real?” I huffed. “What the hell will you call those three years if not a waste of time.” He frowned. “You know it wasn't.”

The number hung in the air between us. "The marriage contract is for three years minimum," my father explained. "Play the role of Julian Blackwood's wife, attend the necessary events, maintain appearances. After three years, you can divorce him and walk away with three million dollars. Tax-free. Enough to start whatever life you want, anywhere in the world." I stared at the folder, my mind racing. Three million dollars. That was freedom. Real freedom, not the scraping, desperate kind I had been planning. With that money, I could go to graduate school, start a business, and never depend on anyone again.

So he'd delayed the wedding once, twice, and again, until I was pregnant and there was nowhere left to delay to. Until the noose he'd been weaving for himself strangled what we had. He kept talking, on and on, as if he were trying to vomit every guilt out at once. I watched him, cold and silent. His voice gradually dropped, until there was only the ragged crying left. Finally he looked up at me through wet eyes, his face full of humility and a careful, fragile hope. “Del, when you're discharged, let's get married, okay?” “This time it's real. We'll have a child again. We'll have a happy future.”