Wife Goes Black Novels & Stories

"Mr. Black, I'm afraid your wife's condition isn't good. Since you brought her back to the hospital, she has barely spoken a word to anyone. Most of the time, she just lies in bed staring at the ceiling or sits quietly by the window for hours without saying anything." My grip around the phone tightened. "She most times forget to eat unless the nurses repeatedly reminds and persuades her, and even then, she barely touches the food." His voice grew heavier. "She doesn't even ask about her treatment or her recovery. It's as though she's simply... existing.The loss of her baby has devastated her, Mr. Black. We're deeply concerned about her emotional and psychological condition.” My heart clenche

The image of Blackthorn’s smile, his cruel jokes, and his smug little laugh flashed through my mind. My first thought was simple and terrifying. “I’m going to kill Victor Blackthorn.” But first, I had to get his wife to a hospital. *** As we drove to the hospital, she lay across the back seat, hooked up to an IV with one of the nurses monitoring her. I sat with her and watched her face the entire time. She was pale with long dark lashes against her cheeks. There was a faint bruise around her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, which fueled my anger.

I cried out in a panic, Watch out, Lynne! As the bottle shattered with a loud crash, Lynne said shakily, “Ms. Gibson… I didn’t mean to hit you… You got in the way…” Lynne spun around and swept Krystal to the ground before turning to Kerry. She asked, “Are you hurt, Kerry?” Shaking her head, Kerry used a towel to clear the glass shards and red wine from her head. “I’m alright, Ms. Greene.” Krystal, lying on the floor, blurted in disbelief, “What did you call her, Ms. Gibson?”

At that moment, I could not reach Snow no matter how many times I called. I was so anxious that I even turned to the internet. I hoped to find a reasonable solution. Then, I saw a video of Snow wearing a camisole and washing clothes at another man’s place. I looked at the caption. [Dinner is over. My boss took great care of me. If I had a wife like her, I would want nothing more.] The video had been posted just three minutes earlier. Three minutes ago, the hospital told us we had arrived on the wrong day for the appointment, and Richard had swung his cane at me.

As I was rummaging through the trash for leftovers, my wife, who had died three years ago, suddenly showed up. She stepped out of the Voyce and looked down at me from above. “Honey, you really did pass my test.” I was holding some moldy stale bread. I stared at her in bewilderment. It turned out that three years ago, at a class reunion, the school heartthrob she had once dated had suggested it. “I wanted to see if your love is real.”

“I know that she didn't intend to push me…” “She did what? Hubby. Zaire and his wife are going too far!” Mrs. Wills interjected in fury and unhappiness. Immediately, she hurried toward Venus and began to hover around her, checking her from head to toe as if she wanted to be sure that Venus was free from injuries caused by Lotus’ pushing.

Laura quickly accepted the white oversized hoodie and draped it over her head so that it looked like a veil of some sort before turning to him. "We can't get married for real because marrying the dead is frowned upon but if you don't mind, we can exchange vows here and now. At the very least, we can be husband and wife for however long I have left before returning to the light." Tynan found it incredibly difficult to hold back tears and he might have let one or two slip past his defences as he searched up the wedding vows. The crappy hoodie didn't do her beauty any justice and Tynan wished he could afford something better than that. Nevertheless, they exchanged vows that night despite missin

Traffic laws meaningless. Critical. His wife. Their baby. The drive was a blur of red lights and horns. He parked crooked in the emergency bay and sprinted inside. "Where is she?" he demanded at the desk. "Cecilia Lancaster Blackwood —my wife!" They led him to the surgical waiting area. A doctor emerged eventually scrubs stained, face grim. "Mr. Blackwood?" "How is she?" His voice didn't sound like his own. "She's in surgery. Multiple fractures. Internal bleeding. The impact was severe."

“Your wife committed a grave offense, young master. She escaped from prison. And was involved in a ghastly car accident. Her body could not be recovered unfortunately because she burned to death in the car. But we had traces of blood on the scene. And when we conducted a DNA test, they matched your wife’s. And also the car that was used was a Bugatti Chiron registered under your name. I’m sorry to inform you young master. But she is dead. Your wife, Leah Blackwood is dead.” I took a step backward slightly and I could barely feel my feet moving. All I could hear was the continuous voice echoing in my head. ‘Your wife, Leah Blackwood is dead.’

And just like that, he walked off, leaving her stunned. 'Handled? The baby?' Thirty minutes later, the black Maybach rolled to a stop. Lucia glanced out the window—and froze. "Why did you bring me to a hospital?"