Follow
Chapters
Share
After My Husband Called For Ivy, I Canceled Our Marriage Novel Cover

After My Husband Called For Ivy, I Canceled Our Marriage

On our wedding night, while my husband was showering, he suddenly shouted, "Ivy, can you bring me a pair of boxers?" I was about to get up and fetch them when I froze. Ivy isn't me. She's the one staying at our home—his female friend from the old gang. Before I could react, Ivy was already in the master bedroom, holding his boxers at her fingertips. She didn’t even bother to knock. Without acknowledging me, she walked straight to the bathroom door and quipped, "Hey! Open up, your old man sent you some black coffee!" How charming! My husband's father has been deceased for over a decade. Is this a haunting? In that case, maybe his dear old dad can kindly take the rotten potatoes away with him.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 1

On our wedding night, while my husband was showering, he suddenly shouted, "Ivy, can you bring me a pair of boxers?"

I was about to get up and fetch them when I froze.

Ivy isn't me.

She's the one staying at our home—his female friend from the old gang.

Before I could react, Ivy was already in the master bedroom, holding his boxers at her fingertips. She didn’t even bother to knock.

Without acknowledging me, she walked straight to the bathroom door and quipped, "Hey! Open up, your old man sent you some black coffee!"

How charming!

My husband's father has been deceased for over a decade. Is this a haunting?

In that case, maybe his dear old dad can kindly take the rotten potatoes away with him.

---

After two years of dating Ivan Sanders, we finally tied the knot and entered wedded bliss. His friends from back home—three guys and one girl—arrived a week early to help orchestrate a magical wedding.

Seeing me moved to tears, Ivan earnestly said all the hard work was worth it. After the ceremony, he wanted to thank them with a dinner. Not wanting them to be too worn out, I hosted them at our home. They drank quite a bit, so I arranged for them to rest in separate rooms.

While Ivan was showering in the master bedroom, I lay on the bed, flipping through videos of the wedding. A perfect ceremony, a man who loved me, a cozy home. For a moment, I felt like the happiest woman in the world.

As I was savoring that feeling, Ivan suddenly called out, "Ivy, can you bring me a pair of boxers?"

I was about to rise when I hesitated. Ivy wasn't me; she was his only female buddy among the friends. Before I could react, Ivy had already entered the master bedroom without knocking, holding Ivan’s boxers that I had hand-washed and hung out on the patio yesterday.

She walked straight to the bathroom door and announced, "Hey! Open the door!"

"Your old man sent you some black coffee!"

My husband laughed and responded, "Just leave it on the counter, and beat it!"

Ivy shot back, "Is that how you treat your old man? You're married and you've already forgotten your father, huh?"

Turning to me with a grin, she said, "Angelica, don't mind him. He's been spoiled by us, his friends. Don't spoil him too much. Spoil a man, and you're just making trouble for yourself."

A breeze swept through the open windows, sending a chill through me. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself and said, "Your hearing is amazing, isn't it? With the bedroom door closed and two rooms in between, you could hear him clearly?"

She boasted, "I just guessed he’d shower without bringing fresh boxers. After a few drinks, he's always like this. As his worried old man, I was waiting by the door."

I replied bluntly, "But his father’s been dead for over ten years. Isn’t that a bit morbid?"

Her smile froze instantly, mouth opening and closing without a word.

Just then, Ivan emerged from the bathroom, his first glance at Ivy, asking, "What's wrong? Why are you standing there speechless?"

With a nasal tone, she muttered, "Your father!" before leaving the room.

Ivan chased after her, "Hey, what's got you so upset? Tell me, and I'll sort it out!"

"Go back to your darling bride, and stop bothering your old man! And don’t ask me to run errands for you anymore!"

Another friend exited his room, visibly annoyed, "Ivy kindly brought you boxers, only to be snubbed by your lady."

Turning to Ivy, he said, "Come to me. Don’t stoop to the level of a married man!"

He tried to lead her into his room, but Ivan pulled his hand away, saying, "Keep your dirty hands off her! Get back to your room!"

The gusts of wind blew back and forth, dousing the warmth inside me.

You may also like

After My Groom Rejected Me at the Altar Novel Cover
8.7
The crystal chandelier above me cast fractured rainbows across the polished marble floor of the Franklin estate, but all I could focus on was the heavy leather portfolio in my hands. It contained six months of my life—market research, donor analysis, and a complete restructuring plan for the Franklin Foundation. It was my dowry, in a sense. Proof that while my blood might be "new money," my brain was an asset Zachary couldn't afford to lose. "Zachary," I said, stepping up to him. The gala was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive champagne and the underlying, metallic tang of shifting wolves suppressing their aura. "I finished the proposal for the Foundation. It's ready for the board meeting tomorrow." Zachary Franklin, the future Alpha of this decaying but proud pack, turned slowly. He looked impeccable in his tuxedo, his jawline sharp, his eyes cool. But he didn't reach for the portfolio.
Betrayal Leads to Redemption Novel Cover
9.8
I woke before dawn on my thirty-fifth birthday, my hand automatically reaching across the cold expanse of sheets beside me. Empty, as usual. Marcus's side of the bed hadn't been warm when I'd fallen asleep, either. The digital clock on my nightstand glowed 5:17 AM in harsh red numbers that seemed to mock the significance of the day. Slipping into my robe, I padded downstairs to the kitchen of our Silicon Valley mansion—fourteen thousand square feet of echoing emptiness that had never quite felt like home. The kitchen lights were off, the counters pristine. No birthday card. No small wrapped gift. Not even a hastily scrawled note. Marcus and Leo had already left the house.
Discovering His Mistress Faked Blindness to Steal My Eyes Novel Cover
8.0
Refusing to donate my corneas to my husband's childhood sweetheart, Augustus flicked ash into my eyes as punishment, damaging my retinas. My vision blurred, but his cruelty didn’t stop there. He threatened me with our unborn child. "If you don’t give up your eyes, I’ll use our child's instead. After all, both of you rely on me, so what difference does it make if you can see or not?" Khloe, the childhood sweetheart, chimed in pitifully, “Seraphina, you have Augustus to take care of you. I’m not like you. I still need to earn a living with my own hands. I can’t be without my sight.” After four years of dating and three years of marriage, I finally saw the man lying beside me for who he truly was. I chose to terminate the pregnancy, filed for divorce, and bought a ticket to Paris. It was time I started living for myself.
Divorce & A 20-Year Freeze Novel Cover
8.5
The candles flickered between us, casting dancing shadows across the gleaming mahogany table. Ryan had insisted on dinner at home tonight—a rarity these days. I should have known something was wrong when he ordered from Le Bernardin instead of suggesting we go there in person. Ryan Mitchell never missed an opportunity to be seen at Manhattan's finest establishments. He hadn't touched his Dover sole. Instead, he watched me with those calculating eyes that had once made me feel chosen but now made me feel appraised. Like merchandise. "Sarah," he said, breaking the silence that had stretched between us like a chasm. "We need to talk." I set down my fork with deliberate care, noting how steady my hand was despite the sudden hollowness in my chest. "I'm listening." Ryan reached into his suit jacket—Tom Ford, charcoal gray, his power color for important business deals.
He's Rich, She's a Cop: The Miami Love story Novel Cover
8.6
She was born in the shadows of a ruined name. He was born into wealth, but never into love. When a PR stunt turned trap forces billionaire heir Jason Walker to serve time with the Miami PD, he collides with Detective Leah Moore; a woman who’s fought every day to rise from disgrace. She wants justice. He wants escape. But when the past resurfaces in the form of betrayal, secrets, and blood ties, the two are thrown into a dangerous game where trust could get them killed and falling in love might destroy everything they’ve ever known. In a city where everyone wears a mask, can two broken souls find the truth and each other?
The CEO's Daughter's Nanny - Where is my Child? Novel Cover
8.6
Strict and cold, CEO Gabriel Welsch cared for nothing but his daughter. However, everything in his life changed when fate brought a desperate woman into his path. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked her. The door to the private elevator opened into a white room, adorned with paintings and mirrors that made the large office appear even more sophisticated. Viviane's cheeks burned, and her skin flushed when she saw the man sitting behind the massive desk. "I'm sorry!" she stammered, standing still, trying to recover from her embarrassment. "How do I get out of here?" "With this!" Gabriel said, holding up an access card and tossing it onto the desk. "What are you doing in my company?" "I came for a nanny interview, but..." she trailed off, unable to finish. She was unable to articulate anything after the uncomfortable situation. Not only had she ended up in the owner's office, but she also felt ashamed of how she had treated Gabriel just moments before the interview. "What's your name?" Gabriel's impassive expression scrutinized her as if analyzing every detail. In a hushed voice, she replied, "Viviane Bernardi, sir." Gabriel scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave her a piercing look. At that moment, Viviane realized her chance of finding her daughter was slipping away. Viviane's only reason for applying to work at her ex-husband's company was to get close to his team. However, her real goal was far more personal. She just wanted to find her ex-partner, who had taken their baby while she was in a coma. Despite the pain she was enduring, Viviane was determined to do anything it took to find her daughter.