Follow
Chapters
Share
Love me again, Dear Ex-Wife! Novel Cover

Love me again, Dear Ex-Wife!

Kayla, a pretty girl in her early 20s had gone through nothing but severe pain since she was little. She lost her parents and two siblings to an accident at a very young age, leaving her behind with no one to care for her. Devastated and refusing to leave her parent's funeral home. Grandma Helen; a business partner of her father took her into her home and took care of her like she was her real granddaughter. With the aim to keep her in her family forever, Grandma Helen arranged her marriage with one of her capable Grandson. Kayla was happy she was getting married to the man she loved with all her heart. Even though Liam didn't seem to fancy her that much and was just following his Grandma's order, she was still in delight and believed that one day he would come to like her. However, five years down the line and Liam has not fallen in love with her or even respected her as his wife, as he gallivant around with his mistress, neglecting her like she never existed.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 1

Kayla's POV

A deep frown settled on my forehead accompanied by a tightened fist to keep my emotions in check. But how long would I be able to do that? I was completely shattered inside.

My eyes were red-shot, but my black shade did well to hide it. I couldn't hold myself back as I blew my nose into the little piece of fabric I held in my hand.

Since Grandma Helen died, it was as though a huge part of me had gone with her.

Grandma was my life savior. She was like my guardian angel sent to me in my time of need. If not for her many years ago, I have no idea where I'd have been by now.

Grandma Helen had been in the mortuary for three months now following Liam's order and today was the day she'd finally be laid to rest

Hot tears welled up in my eyes, growing into an intense cry.

Just then, a voice came behind me.

"You don't have to cry so much Kayla, grandma Helen was already so old, it was time for her to die and God already tried for her, she lived till 97, get a hold of yourself." That was Ellie; Ethan's wife. She had always been like that when it comes to Grandma Helen. But I couldn't believe she'd say such a thing at her funeral.

I refused to spare her even a glance as tears continued to stream down my eyes.

I already missed Grandma so much and in severe pain, how could Ellie say such things? No wonder they never got along when she was still alive.

Several minutes later, the burial ceremony was over. Grandma Helen had gone to the other side of the world. Leaving me behind.

With more tears dripping down my face I waved her my final goodbye. And finally, I was ready to leave.

My eyes looked around the crowd, searching for that one person, but it seemed he didn't attend his own Grandmother's burial. Or might I say he didn't wait for it to be over before he left. As I had seen him here earlier.

I shook my head and made to finally take my leave now, but just as I was about to come out of the cemetery, my eyes caught on someone who made my heart skipped several beats, and a huge amount of adrenaline released into my being.

How dare she come here? Grandma Helen even hated her.

It was Lyra, Liam's mistress. Liam named her his childhood friend, but they had done so many despicable things that broke me many times. All the while still referring to her as 'just his childhood friend'

Grandma Helen had no idea what her Grandson had been doing to me in our marriage. What was the point telling her? It'd have only added to her worries, she was already old and battling high blood pressure. I wouldn't want to kill my grandma Helen with my marital problem. Hence I kept it all to myself.

If she knew, she'd have scolded him, but would that change anything? The answer was no as Liam would never let Lyra go.

It was as though Lyra were a part of Liam, someone he could never do away with. Even at his office when Grandma Helen had sent me there some months ago, I met them almost into each other's skin, leaning into each other so intimately they could be misunderstood as husband and wife.

Well, my marriage to Liam was arranged by Grandma Helen. But I had always loved Liam. The first time I met him after he came back from his studies abroad, I fell in love with him.

His masculine nature had me in rage and even till today. Liam was not just handsome, but gorgeous. He had me drooling over his blue eyes and his entire body.

Liam was well built, his muscled chest protruding out through his shirt, and his cologne had my whole being melting at his sight. I needed him, I wanted him. Every night I go to sleep with him on my mind.

Then I told myself if I could have this man then I've gotten everything I needed in life. Even in the day, I dreamt about Liam. I got lost so many times at the sight of him and Grandma Helen would call me back from my reverie.

Only to wake up one morning and she announced my marriage to Liam. I had made it in life. I couldn't sleep for days. I was marched in delight and extreme happiness.

Even though Liam didn't seem to like me that much or wasn't that pleased with me as his wife-to-be, I believed I was going to make him love me with time.

I wasn't that bad myself. I was petite, had hazel eyes and my skin was just as perfect. I had a round face, a flat tummy, and a body that could be described as perfect.

But five years later, he hasn't even gotten a bit close to me to think of ever developing any feelings for me.

All I could remember in our five years of marriage was how he went around with his childhood friend, who, of course, was his mistress.

Liam had done nothing but make me feel outrageously alone in our marriage.

Growing up, my moment of great bond and beautiful life was cut short when I lost the most important people in my life to the cold hand of death. How I survived it was still a mystery to me and everybody who witnessed it.

Fifteen years ago, on a Saturday morning, I clocked eleven _ it was my birthday. Even though I didn't want a big celebration, my parent were adamant on taking us out for a big birthday party. If I had known it was going to claim their lives, I'd have refused at all costs.

I and my two brothers were seated at the back seat of our Lexus, with my parents at the front conversing happily. Time seemed to freeze as my parents suddenly became quiet, inside the car was filled with tension and anxiety as I raised my head to see Dad floundering to evade the huge gigantic trailer hauling its way towards us.

It sped as though it was on a mission to crush us all. Just as my instinct predicted, I watched as my whole family lay lifeless before my very own eyes within a split second.

I had blood dripping down my forehead as I managed to crawl out, coughing profusely while crying for help on the deserted road, all the while my body shaking from trauma.

My wailing voice rolled until the paramedics arrived.

My parents and my two siblings were pronounced dead on the spot.

In a twinkle of an eye, I had lost everyone in my life, including my two lovely brothers. My playmates. Everyone in my life were gone.

After the burial of my parents and my brothers. I had refused to leave the funeral home. All I did every day was cried my eyes out till I was almost blinded by tears. As if that even matters to me, I just kept crying until an old woman came to me.

Seemed she wasn't around at the time of the burial and had just arrived to pay her respects.

You may also like

A Birkin For Every Lie Novel Cover
9.5
There are ninety-nine Hermès Birkins sitting in my walk-in closet. To the world, it' s a collection worth millions. To me, it' s a tally of ninety-nine times my husband, Harris, betrayed me. Each bag was a silent apology I accepted to keep our hollow marriage alive. But the hundredth betrayal wasn't fixed with crocodile leather. On the anniversary of my mother's death, I tracked Harris to my family' s private cemetery. He wasn't alone. Jessica, his "first love," was there, standing over the empty plot reserved for my living father, right next to my mother' s grave. They were digging a hole. Jessica smirked, holding a velvet box containing her dead cat and a plaque that read To Arvel, my eternal companion. "It' s just a cat, Cecily," she laughed, tossing her hair. "Don't be so dramatic. Your father won't mind the company. Besides, it shows who Harris really listens to." For years, I accepted the bags and the lies. But desecrating my family's sacred ground? The submissive wife died in that moment. I walked toward them, clutching the evidence that would destroy Jessica' s life and shatter Harris' s world. "Dig it up," I commanded, my voice colder than the grave. "Or I will bury you both right here."
Accidentally Adopting My Husband's Secret Daughter Novel Cover
8.7
"Your daughter's Punnett square project is quite unique, Mrs. Vance," the science teacher slides the wrinkled worksheet across the steel desk. For five years, I played the devoted mother to Maya, the orphaned girl my husband Mark brought home after his supposed best friend died in a car crash. I wiped her tears, baked her cupcakes, and loved her as my own flesh. Now, staring at the dominant alleles circling Maya’s blood type on the paper, the math fails. The dead best friend was O-negative. Mark is AB-positive. Maya is AB-positive. He didn't adopt an orphan; he smuggled his dead subordinate’s illegitimate child into our home under the guise of grief. He expects me to keep playing the saint. Instead, I’m calling my lawyer to draft an irrevocable family trust. The front door clicks open downstairs. Mark's heavy footsteps echo in the hall, calling out for his "two favorite girls."
Divorce After Affair Novel Cover
7.9
I had been married to Amiri Campbell for six years. He always insisted on doing all the household chores himself and managed every complex situation related to our daughter's paralysis. Those around us often commented that he treated me like royalty. On the day I finally saved enough for Kaylee's surgery, I held her in the hospital and cried tears of joy. But then, he quietly went home, took the money, and handed it over to his first love to buy a house: "Elodie's husband was my best friend; he just passed away. We should help them out. There's still time before Kaylee's surgery." While Amiri joyfully attended Elodie and her daughter's housewarming party, Kaylee was in the hospital, bravely holding on. She cried for her father until her strength gave out, and she ultimately passed away. Returning to this moment, I calmly told the man who had taken our savings, "Of course, helping them is no problem." Amiri was delighted and praised me for being sensible. I turned and led Kaylee into the Bentley my family sent to pick us up: "Remember to sign the divorce agreement before you leave." After pushing Kaylee's wheelchair home from the hospital post-treatment, I stepped through the door to find the place completely cleared out, except for some worthless household items scattered across the floor.
Eleven Miscarriages, One Final Cut Novel Cover
8.4
After her eleventh miscarriage, Clara Fulton became pregnant again. To protect the pregnancy, she lay in a hospital bed day after day, enduring injection after injection, waiting for the special drug meant to save her child. Then she discovered the truth. Her husband of eight years, Ethan Grayson, had already given that one dose of the special drug to his newly pregnant mistress. Clara wiped the tears from her face and made a ruthless decision, ending the pregnancy she had fought so desperately to keep. She no longer wanted a man who wavered between women. But anyone who betrayed sincerity would have to pay a price. She took out a phone she had never once used and dialed the only number saved on it. "You wanted me to acknowledge you as my father, didn't you? Come pick me up in a week. I'll take your seat." She had no idea that after she left, Ethan would kneel before every god he could think of, praying for nothing but her return.
Hidden Scientist, Betrayed Wife's Revenge Novel Cover
7.0
For three years, I hid my identity as a top scientist and heiress, pretending to be a simple graduate student. All to secretly develop a cure for my husband Graham's fatal genetic disease. Then, in his sleep, he whispered another woman's name-Keeley. I soon discovered she was his ex-girlfriend and, horrifyingly, my doppelgänger. He brought her into our home, siding with her as she attacked me, causing a fall that made me lose our unborn child. He showed no remorse. Instead, he publicly humiliated me, accused me of faking the pregnancy, and filed for an annulment to marry her. The man I sacrificed my career, my fortune, and my identity for saw me as nothing more than a convenient substitute. He destroyed my life, all for a cheap copy of me. He thought he had broken me. But he forgot who I really am. Now, as the true head of the Morton Institute, I'm ready to reclaim my name. At the global press conference for his cure, I will expose every last one of their lies.
Married to the Coldest Media King Novel Cover
8.2
My father was the King of Wall Street until he was branded a fraud, turning the Maxwell name into a lead weight dragging me to the bottom of the Hudson. I walked into the Brennan Media Tower with blood-red lipstick and a desperate proposal, offering myself as a "paper wife" to Garland Brennan, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. Garland didn’t even look at me as a human being; he tore my term sheet in half and called me "radioactive" before having security toss me out like trash. I returned to my rotting apartment in Bushwick only to find my roommate’s cousin, a debt collector named Jax, waiting to break my bones. He pinned me against the wall, his hand heavy on my throat as he sneered about selling me to a club to pay off my father's debts. With my ribs aching and my back against the radiator, I had to leak corporate secrets on Twitter just to summon Garland’s private mercenaries to stop a predator. The humiliation didn't stop there. At the Met Gala, the elite mocked my dress made of construction tarp, and my father’s creditors began harassing my senile grandmother in her nursing home. I was a cornered animal, and Garland Brennan was the only hunter offering a cage instead of a grave. I realized then that in this zip code, you are either the predator or the prey, and I was tired of being hunted. Garland offered me a marriage contract that demanded total submission—no equity, no voting rights, just an employee with a wedding ring. I signed the four-hundred-page document with a steady hand, but not before hiding a legal poison pill in the fine print. He thinks he bought a silent asset, but I just secured a front-row seat to his downfall.