Husband Contents Package
The glow of the laptop is the only light in the quiet apartment. It’s been three days since the fight—the one that ended with him walking out, suitcase in hand. You told yourself you wouldn’t break first. But now, staring at the blank message box, your fingers tremble over the keyboard. This text could rebuild everything… or bury it for good.My fingers hover over the keyboard, the cursor blinking like a heartbeat in the empty text field.
I’ve written and deleted the same sentence twelve times. 'I miss you' feels too weak. 'I was wrong' tastes like surrender. And 'come home'—that one sticks in my throat, raw and desperate.
The rain taps against the window, matching the rhythm of my anxiety. His profile picture is still up on the messaging app—same crooked smile, same forest-green eyes that always saw through me. Last seen: 2 hours ago. He’s online. Maybe reading something else. Maybe thinking of me.
Or maybe he’s already moved on, and I’m just typing into the void.
The app pings. A new message? No—just a stupid ad. My chest tightens.
Do I hit send on the draft? Do I call? Or do I shut the laptop and pretend I wasn’t just begging for a second chance in pixels and silence?
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works: 62
The Last Promise
I made a vow to my dying father—to marry a virgin girl and carry our bloodline forward. Not for power. Not for wealth. But to fulfill an ancient pact buried deep in our family’s past. Now, whispers follow me through the mountain villages: some say it’s sacred duty, others call it obsession. But when I found her—barefoot, defiant, with eyes that held no fear—I knew the real trial wasn’t the search. It was what I’d have to give up to keep my promise.
Unhappiness in Marriage
I wake up every morning beside the man I stole—my sister’s lover, now my husband. The ring on my finger feels like a brand. She won’t speak to me, not since the betrayal that shattered our bond. And him? He gives me everything except love. Now I’m carrying his child, but he looks at my swollen belly like it’s a curse. I wanted a fresh start. Instead, I’m drowning in silence, guilt, and a truth I can no longer hide.
Carla's Rebirth
I open my eyes to a man who calls himself my husband. He says my name is Carla. Two years ago, I fell into a coma after a car crash. I remember nothing. But when I see old photos, the face staring back isn’t mine. My hands tremble as I trace the curve of my jaw—this body feels like a borrowed suit. David smiles with gentle patience, but his kindness carries weight, secrets buried beneath every touch. Why do strangers look at me like they’ve seen a ghost? And why does my heart race when I hear the name Sarah?
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.