Unscramble Widowed Novels & Stories

Iris said as I burst into laughter. “I wanted that as much as you did but if he died just like that without suffering, of what use would my second chance be??? I want him to feel every pain I felt and that can only be possible if we end up getting married…he was a widower in my previous life but this time around, I would be the widow.” "That's my girl!!!! Look, I was planning on traveling back soon but because of you, I won't do that anymore…I am with you all the way in this plan of yours.” Iris said as I smiled.

He broke away from the other children and ran toward them on unsteady toddler legs. They gathered around an elaborate cake decorated with pink roses. The crowd cheered, voices rising together as they sang the birthday song. And I stood there. Alone. “Happy 30th birthday, Bianca,” I whispered to myself as the tears slipped free. As they blew out the candles together, I felt my four-year marriage vanish with the smoke.

Shawn slowly opened his lips and said, "Widowed." Joshua was stunned for a moment. The word 'widowed' was indeed beyond the scope of his age. What did it mean? Seeing his puzzled expression, Fiona explained next to him, "My little friend, our Mr. Wood's wife passed away unexpectedly four years ago. So our Mr. Wood is now widowed." Joshua also apologized. "Oh...I see. I'm sorry, I don't know your family situation either." The two apologized to each other. As he said that, Joshua scratched his head. "Then, in your current situation, you are considered single… you can still get married again?"

"Please continue..." "I told the widow that I could kick out her entire family from the pack and they would become rogues. They are the types of wolves that do not belong to any pack and are prone to danger and exploitation by other packs. So the wife accepted my terms, and she will shut her mouth. She will cremate the corpse within 24 hours. All things were settled properly. That's all, sweetheart," I concluded. Lauren closed her eyes, her mouth twitching in dismay. Maybe she finds our ways a bit savage by her standards.

Like, why did she not inform him about it? “Did you know about this?” her dad asked him, and he shook his head unable to speak. He likes her for real and though she was going through this, he was willing to support her, but it was already too late. She did not just abort his child, but she aborted her womb. It was reported she could not give birth again. Except through a miracle. What a tragic beginning for her… if only she had not added a mistake on another. *…….*

With tears welling up in his eyes, my son, Luke, said, "Can I spend my final birthday with Mommy before we leave? It's my fifth birthday. Mommy promised she'll celebrate with me." My heart broke into a million pieces listening to his plea. "Alright, we'll spend your fifth birthday with Aunt Stella, then we'll go." After tucking Luke into bed, I opened the drawers and took out Sarah Grant's death certificate. This year was our sixth year of marriage. I never expected it to end with me becoming a so-called widower. I did not even have to sign any divorce papers.

Theodore lowered the letter. His voice sounded far away. “My mother signed the revised bylaws because Alistair told her Adelaide would live if she did.” Violet felt the room tilt. “What?” “The amendment removed certain bloodline claimants from automatic protection under the Widow’s Fund. Children born outside approved Cain marriages. Women declared unstable. Any heir deemed compromised by mental defect, moral defect, or blood irregularity.” “Blood irregularity,” Violet repeated, disgusted. Theodore laughed once. It was empty. “A civilized term. The Cains have always preferred those.”

"Grandma, what does widowhood mean?" Margaret replied, "It means your mom has died." Yvonne nodded. "Oh, I see." Margaret stood and took Yvonne's hand. "Alright. Let's stop thinking about that jinx. Let's go play." Yvonne hummed in agreement. But once she was inside the car, Margaret's words kept echoing in her mind.

The scarlet feathers on her head began to wilt and turn grey. "Filth!" she spat. "You poison the harvest!" The connection snapped. Ronan gasped, his lungs filling with air as his eyes cleared. He slumped forward, his forehead hitting the salt. The Widow vanished. She didn't run. She simply dissolved into a cloud of red feathers that the wind caught and carried toward the northern peaks. The fire on the ridge began to die down, the orange glow fading into a dull grey. But the valley was still a wasteland of salt.

I was the type who could sit still in the corner and still have all eyes on me. Funny, isn’t it? Once upon a time, I was Darey’s wife. Sweet, dependable Darey, the safe man everyone thought was perfect for me. And when he died, people pitied me. Poor Brandy, the widow. Poor Brandy, all alone. They whispered it like it was my curse. They didn’t see what I saw... that widowhood wasn’t an end for me, it was an opening.