Widow Novels & Stories

Ada (Ebuka's wife) A sword has pierced my heart and I feel defeated and sad, my reality is now that of a widow just 6 years after marriage. The husband of my youth has been taken away from me forever through the cruelest way ever. The tears I've cried these few days have left me drained that I don't have any more tears left. My kids are without a father, I have to act the role of a father and mother alone.

“She’s a widow. She lost her husband last year” “Oh, I didn’t know that.” I looked over at Ms. Elena. I don’t know how widows are supposed to look but she was young and pretty and always had a look of pure satisfaction with her job. “She must be a strong woman if she’s back to her job just after a year of losing her husband.” “Yeah, she is. That’s why I fancy her, I love strong women.” I rolled my eyes. “But Heather isn’t exactly what I call I strong woman.”

The widow. The dead wife. Every gossip article she had ever skimmed came rushing back. Eleanor Cain found drowned. Private lake. Ruled accidental. Family requested privacy. Theodore Cain withdrew from public life. Cain Holdings issued statement. Widow’s Fund established in her memory. Violet stood. She needed sleep. She needed to get out in the morning. She needed to stop touching things in rich people’s haunted rooms. As she turned toward the door, a voice spoke from the shadows behind her. “She hated that photograph.”

Three months ago, my husband, Second Lieutenant Daniel Hawthorne, and his older brother, Thomas, were deployed to the front. A month later, only Daniel came back. Thomas was dead. In a time like this—when cities burned overnight and lives disappeared without warning—a widow had no ground to stand on. Eleanor, Thomas’s wife, unraveled quickly. She cried until her voice broke, starved herself, wandered at night as if hoping the war might take her too. She tried to end her life.

A month later, Marcus's wedding took place as scheduled. The bride was Annie, the senator's only daughter. Beautiful, elegant, and well-educated. The wedding was held at the most luxurious church in the city center. The guests were all high society elites. I received an invitation but didn't go. Ethan stayed home with me, and we watched the live broadcast on TV. "Do you regret it?" he asked. "No. I just feel sad." "For him?" "For Annie," I said. "She has no idea what kind of man she's marrying."

"She acts the grieving widow, but she's been trying to trap me, just because I look like my brother. It's pathetic, really." Hearing the title "Commander," my mother-in-law threw herself to the floor with a fresh wail. "You have to see the truth, Commander! My poor son provided for her, and what did she give him? Just a girl! Now she wants to rob us blind! She's a leech on this family!" Catherine peeked at the commander, then buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with delicate sobs. "Sir, she tried to take my husband and hurt my unborn child... What kind of woman does that?"

She said as he handed over Victoria’s picture to him. “It seems like lately Ian has taken some interest in this woman. Her name is Victoria Howler. She is the widow of Wilfred Howler. Initially I thought their relationship is strictly business but rumors and pictures have been circulating lately that indicate otherwise.” She explained. Cedric raised his brow, still not getting his sister’s plan. “Okay, so what are you thinking of?” He asked.

“Green isn’t a good colour on you, honey. But maybe that’s because it’s your natural tint, and like everything you were born with reeks of poverty and filth.” “You weren’t wealthy before you got married to Noah!” Wendy raised her voice. “But I am now!” Natalia reported. “Without him, you’re nothing. How are you able to get so much and still look plain?” Wendy said. “Says the one who bagged a daughter with a failed relationship and a ruined life. Failed single mom awards go to you, girl.” Natalia said, surprising herself. Then she blew her a kiss. “Y-you! You bitch!” Wendy stomped her foot.

"You're wrong Sophie. You're forgetting that I'm not the same woman I was years ago. I didn't have the capacity to fight back then, but I do now." "What do you mean?" "Damian. Before he died, he asked me to marry him. He knew he was dying so we had a court marriage. I'm his wife on paper. He did it so I would inherit everything he left behind. He left me quite a huge amount of money, properties and shares. I'm not the poor, helpless woman I was then. I felt guilty back then because I couldn't reciprocate his feelings for me so I didn't want to accept his money. I guess I'll need it now to protect my child."

I glance at the black outfit hanging on the mannequin in front of my closet, and the realization hits me like a slow punch—I am a widow at twenty-one. A widow. The word feels foreign, like trying on a coat three sizes too big. I am too young to be called a widow. A widow who never got to see her supposed husband. A widow who never even got to speak to him. I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the dress. My hands feel cold. My mind feels numb. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel. One thing I know—I don’t feel the way someone who