Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Bias Cheating Novels

On Christmas Day, I put on a reindeer-themed lingerie set, ready to spend an unforgettable night with my CEO boyfriend. Noah Levine eagerly unbuttons my top, kissing my body with feverish intensity. Just then, his phone rings. He answers impatiently. "What is it?" A sweet voice comes through from the other end, speaking in Farylian. "Noah, what time are you coming tonight? I have a Christmas present for you." Hearing those words, my eyes fly wide open. That woman is my younger sister, Heidi Miller. Noah's expression turns serious, like he's handling a work call. He responds in Farylian. "What present?" The voice on the other end laughs softly. "The present is me, wrapped head to toe in red ribbon. Come over and help me unwrap it. I can't wait anymore." That night, Noah doesn't touch me. He helps me dress, kissing my cheek with reluctance. "Work call. Something urgent at the company I need to handle. We'll pick this up another time. "Remember to wear this outfit next time, though. It's very enticing." His lie sounds calm and natural. He clearly assumes I don't understand, but I know Farylian. I hear everything crystal clear. I pretend to nod calmly. After he leaves, I accept the company's overseas assignment. In three days, I'll vanish completely from his world.

On our last trip before the wedding, someone drugs me and leaves me in another woman's bed. When my fiancee, Sophia Sullivan, and my brother, Sean Jefferson, rush in to save me, I hear Sophia suddenly ask Sean in Lutenian, "Did you get enough footage?" "Yeah," he replies. "But isn't this bad for Ethan? Everyone's going to think he's a rapist." Sophia's expression hardens. "It's all an act. Nothing actually happened. We're just getting some footage. I just have to make sure I don't abandon him. Once you run this story, you'll win a Pulitzer. That's what matters the most." Lying in Sophia's arms, I feel a chill run through my entire body. Afraid I might've misheard her, I ask, "What are you two talking about?" Sophia wipes the tears from my eyes. "We're talking about what happened to you," she says, her voice as gentle as ever. "Why don't you let Sean report what happened to you? He can clear your name." Thinking I still don't understand Lutenian, she turns to Sean and starts talking about how they can get more attention for the story. She has no idea that I've spent the past year learning Lutenian just to fit in with them. I never expect that the first time I finally understand what they're saying will be the moment I discover that they're betraying me.

On the day my father died, his seven most trusted men all met violent deaths within the same twenty-four hours. Hugh Castillo sacrificed his legs to butcher the gang and put me in power. “Taz, don’t be scared. Those monsters are gone. You’re finally free.” In the years he lay paralyzed, I tried over a thousand experimental drugs and prayed at every church across the country. I hunted down every possible remedy, praying for just one that would bring him back to his feet. When Hugh learned of this, he swallowed a bottle of pills one night to end his life. After he was revived, he smiled and wiped the tears from my face. “Taz, I don’t want to be a dead weight. You deserve a better life than this.” That night, we held each other and wept. We swore that from then on, no matter what, we would never leave each other behind. But seven years later, a sweet-looking girl showed up at my door with a thousand photos I was never meant to see. “Every month, while you were praying to God in churches, Huey was busy trying out new positions with me. “Ms. Sheargold, don’t you know that used goods like you kill a man’s desire? It was no wonder he’d rather play the cripple than touch you.” I looked through every single photo, then put them up for auction underground.

After five years together, my fiancé, Michael Lynham, finally landed a promotion. I went all out. I hand-arranged his favorite champagne roses and spent my last $8,000 on a Rolex. Then his text popped up. [Eunice, work sent me on a last-minute business trip. No need to celebrate.] My heart squeezed. He was working this hard for us. I hit the video call. Declined. [I'm in a meeting. Try to understand.] Then a Porsche rolled up outside my shop. A woman rushed in, fixing her lipstick. "Do you have any ready-made bouquets for a guy? Something cute. I'm celebrating with my boyfriend." She started a video call. Michael picked up instantly. "Michael! I'm almost downstairs. Is our candlelight dinner ready?" "Babe, I skipped a work meeting to cook all your favorites." Their laughter poured through the screen. My stomach dropped. My ears rang. Everything went blurry. I stared at the guy who was supposedly "in a meeting." He wasn't on a business trip. He was spending the night with his new girlfriend. "Hello? Do you have one or not? I'm in a hurry." I swallowed the lump in my throat, turned away, slipped off my engagement ring, and dropped it in the trash. Then I pointed to the bouquet I'd arranged in the corner. "Yeah. That one's ready. 200 bucks."

After I help my boyfriend register his company and successfully land his first deal, he finally decides to make our relationship public. But his junior from college, who's always had this weird hostility toward me for no reason, beats me to it by sliding into the seat next to him. She leans against my boyfriend's chest, her voice smug and satisfied. "Didn't you say you'd wait until the company officially launched? So why the rush now?" My boyfriend says nothing. Instead, he hands her a share certificate and announces to the entire room that she's the company's largest shareholder. The room explodes. Everyone starts whistling and cheering them on. The junior takes the opportunity to kick me while I'm down, throwing insults my way. My boyfriend doesn't just fail to stop her. He actually joins in with his own snide remarks. "Sure, you helped me set up the company and brought in our first client, but she's the one who can actually take us somewhere." I don't get angry. I graciously acknowledge the junior's new position. I want to see how far they would get without me, their biggest asset and most valuable connection.

When my husband’s family was caught in a massive pileup on the highway, he was at the beach with his first love. I didn’t call and demand that he come back. I simply dialed 911. Because in my previous life, I’d stopped him from going to the beach with her. Instead, he came with me to rush his family to the hospital. While he was gone, his first love was swept out to sea and drowned. When I found out, I was overwhelmed with guilt. But my husband told me it wasn’t my fault. I thought he’d forgiven me. Then, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the beach. Right in front of me, he killed our daughter and threw her into the ocean for the sharks to devour. Then he held me underwater and waited for them to tear me apart. “This is all your fault! She’d still be alive if it weren’t for you! “You can die with her!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.

For ten years, Isaac was my fated mate. My Alpha. My future. Then, on the eve of his Alpha Ceremony, he chose another she-wolf to be his Luna, Chloe. His reason? She was wild and free...everything I used to be. "We are FATED MATES!" I screamed, my hand flying to the mark on my neck. "How can you defy the Moon Goddess? How can you just throw me away?" My wolf howled through our bond, trying to make him feel my pain. The backlash should have crippled him. But he didn't even flinch. It wasn't a real mark. Just a lie, painted on with magic. A trick to chain me to his side. My legs gave out. I hit the floor, a raw sob tearing from my throat. When the tears dried, the grief turned to ice. I stormed the Elders' Council and demanded they sever the bond. Then, I did the unthinkable. I chose his cursed uncle, Vincent. Isaac laughed. He thought it was a pathetic game to make him jealous. He had no idea. The Elders had already named his uncle the new Alpha. He didn't understand his mistake until he saw me crowned Luna on Vincent's arm. Only then did he come crawling back, begging for a forgiveness I would never give.

A week before the wedding, I took my dad to the hospital where my fiancé worked for an upper endoscopy under sedation. Dad had gotten up extra early to shave and put on a gleaming white shirt and a new pair of shoes. Clutching his numbered ticket, he asked me quietly, "If Yale's busy, we don't need to see him. We shouldn't hold him up." I patted his arm. "Don't worry. I made an appointment. It wouldn't be holding him up." He'd been up since five without anything to eat. By eleven, his legs were trembling from standing. I texted Yale Xavier. [Dad can barely stand anymore. How many people are ahead of us?] It took him a long time to reply. [Wait your turn like everyone else.] Another hour passed. Just as our turn finally came, they called in the mother and daughter who'd been sitting the whole time. Through the gap in the door, I heard the girl ask, "Yale, who are those people outside? Are you sure it's okay to give me their spot?" "Sure. I happen to know them a little. They're father and daughter. They won't mind." I looked down at the ticket in my palm, soaked with my dad's sweat. Dad had paid his tuition for medical school and his doctorate, and in five days, I was supposed to marry him. Now we were just people he happened to know. I rolled up the ticket and tucked it into my pocket, then helped Dad to the nearest place serving breakfast. As soon as we sat down, I sent a message to our family and friends. [The wedding is off.]

Gianna Connor and I make plans a month in advance to take my parents on a trip. My parents arrive in Havenport the night before the trip, worried they might miss our early departure and keep Gianna, their future daughter-in-law, waiting. The next morning, my parents and I wait downstairs early, but Gianna never shows up. Worried that something has happened to her on the way, I call her more than a dozen times, but she doesn't answer. On the 20th call, she finally picks up. "Everett's mom has a follow-up appointment today. I need to take her in for a full checkup. We'll have to do the trip another time." Before I can say anything, she hangs up. Dad smiles, trying to comfort me. "We'll just go another time." But Mom can't hide how much she's hurting for me. "Jayden, this isn't the first time she's stood you up for some old classmate. Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with a woman like that?" Dad shakes his head at Mom, then rests his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle pat. "Your mom and I will always have your back. We'll never stand in your way. Follow your heart and make the choice that's right for you. Whatever you decide, we'll support you." I look down at the engagement ring I've worn for eight years. Gianna, can I still trust you?

Mackenzie Lister, my germaphobe wife, refuses to let any man besides me touch her. She stays a full arm's length away even when posing for photos with investors. It stays that way until the day of my birthday, when Colin Sumner, her assistant, suddenly posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Mackenzie lets Colin hold her around the waist from behind. "I finally got to meet the role model I grew up looking up to! I have to keep pushing forward and chase my dreams!" I leave a comment on the post. "You two are an item now?" Mackenzie calls me. "He has always looked up to me, that's all. Why do you always have to twist things around? You'd better not make a fool of yourself and delete that comment this instant!" Additionally, my colleagues also blame me for meddling too much in other people's business. Colin immediately posts an update. "I've learned my first lesson from my role model—don't waste your time arguing with petty people." I look at my social media feed, which is getting spammed with comments, and place a single phone call. The next day, every investment in Mackenzie's company is withdrawn.

When my father succumbed to a brutal illness, my world shattered. The day before his funeral, my fiancé abandoned me to marry his first love, which added to my grief. When I confronted him, his irritation was palpable. "Megan's dad is dying of cancer," he snapped. "His last wish is to see her get married. I did something good. Can't you see it?" That night, I called him, desperate for answers, only to hear that woman's smug voice. "Blake is in the shower. Can I help you?" I hung up without a word, my heart sinking. Later, he called back, exhausted and dismissive. "I'm swamped with wedding plans. Don't bother me with irrelevant things, okay?" Silence was my only response. I tossed the engagement ring into the trash and canceled our wedding plans, severing the ties that bound us.

After my drill instructor husband, Vincent Bennett, returns home from a business trip and gives me an intense "punishment session," I collapse onto the bed and start scrolling through my phone. That is when I come across a trending local post. "My boyfriend is cheating on me, and I am about to catch him in the act! Anyone in this city wants to come with me and catch him with his mistress?" The comments below are full of people egging her on. "Where? Hurry and drop the address! I am bringing my toilet plunger to beat that scumbag!" "Kitchen knife ready. Miss, I am with you. We'll chop up that homewrecker first!" I am instantly excited. If I were not so exhausted, I would want to join the drama too. Just as I am thinking that, the poster uploads the address. I tap it open. In the next moment, I freeze. Unit 1203 of Building C, Jarmond Heights. Isn't that my address?

Ten minutes before the wedding ceremony is about to begin, I receive a disturbing photo on my phone. In it, a man with deeply sunken eyes is crawling on the ground like a dog. He is so skinny that he's nothing more than skin and bones. Meanwhile, my bride, Waverly Suther, is looming over the man on the floor as she gazes down at him with a disdainful sneer. Just as I'm about to block the number of the person who sent me this disturbing prank photo, that person sends me another two messages. "Run away from the wedding! Right now! Don't marry Waverly Suther, no matter what!" "That man on the floor is you ten years from now!"

Just a few days before my wedding, I accidentally come across a post while scrolling online. The title reads, "To the guy getting married in this city, your fiancée's already cheated on you." Curious, I click in to see the gossip, only to realize I'm the one being talked about. A deep male voice plays in the video. "I heard you're getting married?" The woman in the frame, bare-backed and trembling, chokes back a sob. "After you left, I realized you're still the one I love most. I'm done with him. Take me away, please!" The moment I hear her voice, it feels like someone punches me straight in the chest. Then I notice something on her wrist—the luxury couple's bracelet I gave her just yesterday. And in that instant, I feel like the biggest joke of all. Turns out the fool was me.

At our dinner gathering, my best friend, Maya Miller, leaned in with a drunken smirk. "If you find out I'm sharing someone's husband, would you still be my friend?" Before I could answer, Maya kept going. "I didn't miss our lunch yesterday because I was sick," she whispered. "He installed a floor-length mirror, just to try something new with me." She took a sip of her wine. "And that retreat last month? Fake too. His wife just had a baby, so he took me to Aspen instead." I froze in total shock. Maya Miller suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh, come on! I’m totally joking. Look at your face!" I let out a breath and laughed it off. That evening, I drove to the office to drop off files for my husband, Ethan Cross. I walked in and froze. The floor-to-ceiling window in his private office was gone. Replaced by a massive floor-length mirror. Cold sweat broke out on my neck. I turned to Ethan. "Why the mirror?" Ethan pulled me into a soft hug from behind. "The window had a small crack, sweetheart. I got the mirror so you can touch up your makeup whenever you visit." I smiled and nodded, staying silent. As soon as Ethan walked out to grab his keys, I stepped up to the glass. Near the bottom corner were two faint, rounded smudges. I measured the shape with my hands. A D-cup. Exactly Maya Miller's size. I pulled out my phone, snapped a clear picture, and dialed a contact. "Get a construction crew here tonight. I want to replace a mirror with a two-way glass." I took a deep breath. "Then call the press. Tell them Ethan Cross is holding an emergency conference downstairs on Thursday.”

On the day of my wedding to Christine Moore, strange floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [LMAO, the real young master still has no idea the bride is fake! Christine is at the hospital accompanying the fake heir Troy Bolton right now!] [It doesn’t matter who the bride is anyway. Christine only agreed to the marriage for the Shane family’s investment. The fake heir is her true love.] [Serves this villain right for driving our poor Troy away the moment he came back. In the end, the female lead destroys his entire family, and honestly, he deserves it.] I hid the shock in my eyes and finished the wedding as if nothing had happened. I refused to become a stepping stone in someone else’s love story. And I definitely refused to die as their disposable villain. If she did not want to marry me, then fine. I would make the fake wedding real, and marry someone else instead.

Ten minutes before the ceremony, my phone lit up with a photograph that made my stomach turn. A woman with sunken eyes, thin down to the bone, crawling across a floor on her hands and knees like a dog. My fiance, Harrison Blake, stood over her, looking down at her with disgust. I was about to block the number and write it off as a prank when two more messages came through. "Run. Right now. Whatever you do, don't marry Harrison Blake." "That woman on the floor is you, ten years from now."

Someone entered my room the night I stayed at my best friend's place. I struggled desperately, but he pinned my hands above my head. "It's been a month. Haven't you missed this?" His voice was low and clear, cool yet incredibly seductive. Before I could speak, he crushed his lips against mine. "Nora, I'm back." Just then, I heard my best friend, Emma Moore, outside the door. The man on top of me froze and lowered his voice. "Who are you?!" My voice trembled as I answered, "I'm Nora Sutton." "Damn it." He swore and quickly got off me.

My best friend, Genevieve Sachs, has never been a particularly good driver and is always scraping her car against something. So when she buys a parking spot, she chooses the one right between mine and my fiance's. Both she and my fiance get off work earlier than I do, so by the time I come home, Genevieve's car is often parked crookedly across the lines. I have no choice but to leave my car in an open-air lot nearly a mile away and walk home. Genevieve often feels bad about it and comes over to cook for me as an apology. Then, one day, Riverton issues a warning for a heavy rainstorm. Once again, I can't fit my car into my parking spot, so I have to leave it a mile away and walk home through the downpour. By the time I get home, I'm soaked to the skin. My fiance, Logan Poole, is in the kitchen with Genevieve, chatting about what they should have for dinner. The moment they notice how drenched I am, Genevieve sticks out her tongue sheepishly. "Sorry, Keira. I was afraid I'd scratch Logan's car. I'll be more careful about where I park next time." Logan immediately grabs a dry towel and hands it to me. "Next time, just park a little closer to my spot," he says, turning toward Genevieve. "If you scratch my car, so be it. I don't want you to have to keep dealing with this." As always, before I can even say anything, the two of them have already apologized and admitted fault. Suddenly, I feel completely numb to it all. "Okay," I murmur before heading into the bathroom. I peel off my clothes, which are clinging to my skin, and sink into the bathtub. For the next half hour, I soak in the warm water while I can hear their laughter coming from outside. The hot bath is comforting, and for once, having the whole tub to myself feels just right. Somewhere in those 30 minutes, I finally come to a decision. If there's no room for me in that parking spot, I'm not going to fight for it anymore. And if there's no room for me in their relationship, I'm done fighting for that, too.

With just one month left before my wedding to Silas Novak, his first love, Isabella Grey, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her dying wish was for Silas to take her on a monthlong honeymoon. Full of guilt, Silas pulled me into his arms. "Nina, I'm sorry. The wedding can wait, but Isabella can't. It's her last wish. I can't just abandon her." I was leaning against his shoulder, about to nod, when his phone screen lit up and a message caught my eye. "Babe, the fake medical report is all set! You promised you'd push back the wedding and spend some time alone with me, so no backing out." That was the moment I found out her terminal cancer diagnosis was just an elaborate lie. And to him, our wedding was just a game he could call off whenever he felt like it. So the day after their flight took off, I called his uncle, Ryder Novak. Since he'd chosen a honeymoon with his first love, I'd find a new groom. I was done playing his game!