Novel & Cerita Wife Forgotten A Novella

Welcome to a story of loss, regret, and the kind of love that comes too late. Do comment, give your review, follow, and share the book so others also follow the journey of Elara <3 Love Ishq

A lot of it. She blinked hard, trying to focus, her breathing shallow and ragged. Where was she? How did she get here? Fragments of memory slammed into her like broken glass. She had been following a lead. A quiet meeting with a former Hartley employee who claimed to know the truth about the “disappeared” wives. The man had been nervous, whispering about the Circle, about rituals, about how the family didn’t just control wealth … They played God with their lives. Then pain.

Julia had successfully destroyed a man who has just been trying to wake up from his nightmare, Rachel's job was to restore Nicholas' trust in something called love so that he would not end up alone in the world, well even if she was not the one who would be his life partner, it doesn't matter to her. she sat down in front of the computer and started typing the name Catherine Belford - Psychiatrist. There were several articles that appeared and as if everything has been arranged by nature, one of them wrote about the disaster experienced by little Nicholas Anthony. She rushed to research all of them one by one, but no one said where the psychiatrist was at this time.

Tsk. “My useless minions have miserably failed to kill Wenziel! They failed to kidnap Dr. Jacquiline who even caused her death! And most of all you acted without thinking again! Do you think those events are worthy for you to act so mighty?! You disappoint me too Aiden, always has been!” @DEATH WISH PLEASE HAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW! Thank you for supporting my Novel! Also follow me at facebookPage: International_Pen Books You may also read my complete Novel, (hmmm... while waiting for an update)

Beside him, Celine smiled with quiet triumph, the baby sleeping soundly in her arms. Out in the corridor, Elara’s body finally gave in to the tremors. She leaned against the cold wall, pressing a hand to her chest. Her sobs broke through, muffled behind her palm. And in the stillness of the hospital night, only her quiet cries and bitter whisper could be heard: > “If love means being forgotten... then let me go, before I lose myself completely.”

“He deserved better. And I miss him. I miss the people who once loved me. You know? People who looked at me and didn’t see a liability.” “You’re not a liability,” I said instantly. “They treated him like one. Like he was this… thing they had to hide. Just like me.” I kissed her knuckles again, slower this time. “I wish I could find Wilder,” she murmured, so quietly it almost disappeared under Sea’s cartoon giggles. “He’s the only one left. But who knows if he’s alive. I’ve asked someone to look into it for me.” I felt bad. There was so much she carried, and I hadn’t made it easier.

Her entire body felt unfamiliar, as though it did not belong to her. “Where… am I?” she asked again. “Why am I here?” The woman pulled a chair closer and sat beside the bed. Her hand felt warm as she held Natasya’s fingers. “Do you remember who I am, Madam?” she asked gently. Natasya shook her head. She did not even understand herself—why she was in this place, what had happened. All she felt was exhaustion and weakness. “My name is Sofi, Madam. This is my husband, Albert.”

Eventually, she latched onto an older, rich man as his mistress. Her luck ran out fast. The guy's wife didn't play. She had Alice disfigured and tossed aside. No money, no safety net. Alice died sick, alone, and forgotten. In just one year, everything flipped. Lucia's life was finally her own. No chains, no shadows. The sky was wide. The sea, endless. And she was just getting started.

Like a scar long healed, yet still leaving a mark that could never be erased. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to accept that this room was part of my journey, a part I once wanted to forget. But now I realized forgetting never meant erasing. Forgetting only meant looking away, while the wound stayed, waiting for moments like this to remind me of its presence. My fingers still rested on the sheet. It felt cold, unlike the warmth of Noah’s embrace earlier. And there lay the difference, I was no longer alone. I was no longer trapped in this room as before. There was a way out now, a small hand leading me back to life.