Melodramatic Short Stories & Bias Cheating Novels

On our fourth wedding anniversary, I waited at home in vain. Ethan set off fireworks across the entire city for his first love. I was burned by the sparks and ended up in the hospital. Seeing my blackened wounds, he shielded his first love from the doorway and said coldly, "Don't look. It's disgusting." After returning home, I found lace lingerie in the washing machine on the balcony. I calmly took it out, folded it, and placed it on the living room table. Closing the lid, I booked a flight to London.

During the World Cup finals, I brought soup to my husband at his office as he was working overtime. When I arrived outside the screening room of his office, I heard his new assistant, Jodie Lenford, asking with a laugh, "Mr. Hayes, don't you always tell us that Mrs. Hayes watches every World Cup match with you? Why did you leave her alone at home tonight?" My husband, Tristan, was silent for a while before replying, "Every time she watches the match with me, she'll just lecture me about drinking less and going to bed early. It takes the joy out of everything." Jodie laughed again. "Let me accompany you tonight instead. I'll replace Mrs. Hayes for this duty." "You're just like her back when she was young and fiery." Tristan once told me that I would be the only one by his side during every finals match, but I watched as he gently placed the sports jersey I had carefully picked for him years ago over the shoulders of another woman. Jodie asked, "Won't Mrs. Hayes be mad if she finds out about this?" Tristan laughed. "She's learned her lesson. She won't make a huge fuss like she did before." That was when loud cheering erupted from the screen. I stood in the dark as I suddenly realized that some matches would end with me being benched before the starting whistle was even blown.

I loved Cassidy more than anything. Although she had been involved with countless men, and she had even cheated on me with Henry, the fake heir, I still couldn't bring myself to let her go. I worked out, took medication, and did everything I could because I wanted to have a child with her. When the doctor finally told me today that I met the required fertility criteria, I grabbed the test results and rushed straight to her office. "Cassidy, I–" My voice came to an abrupt halt. Cassidy was passionately kissing her new male secretary with her arms wrapped around him. She glanced at me impatiently. "Get out!" I suddenly came to my senses. I could accept having a wife like her, but could our future child accept having a mother like her?

To help my husband, Julian Parker, pay off the debt from his stock-market losses, I agreed to sell one of my kidneys. But on the day of the surgery, our six-year-old daughter, Ella Parker, ran to the clinic all by herself and frantically called Julian for help. Julian sounded conflicted. "Mom's only having one kidney removed. It'll get Dad out of this mess for good. But if she doesn't do it, Dad's whole future is ruined." Ella kept begging him to stop the surgery, but Julian simply hung up. Then he hurried toward a private hospital suite nearby, his face filled with worry. Inside lay Claire Morgan, the woman he'd never gotten over. Her face was deathly pale. "Don't worry. We've got a kidney for you. You're going to be fine." He lowered his voice. "And don't feel guilty. I'm the one who chose to lie to her. She's still young. She can live just fine with one kidney." Claire's transplant was a success. Julian was in such a good mood afterward that, for once, he even suggested taking Ella and me on a trip, calling it a belated honeymoon. But he had no idea I was already dead. After my kidney was removed, I couldn't even afford $9.90 for the antibiotics I needed. The wound became infected, and I died. And Ella finally gave up on her father, too.

On the day of my wedding, my parents suddenly show up at my house with my fiancé, Yoseph Caldwell. They say they've decided the bride is going to change. "Your sister's terminally ill, and her only wish is to marry Yoseph. You're her younger sister, so be generous and help her out." Yoseph chimes in calmly, "Don't worry. It's just a ceremony. Once she passes, you and I can still get the marriage certificate." When I refuse, my parents tie me up. "We'll let you out once the wedding's over." But not long after they leave, an intruder breaks in and brutally murders me. By the time they finally remember me, all that's left is my rotting corpse.

During a round of truth or dare, my boss, Victoria Hale, leaned in and kissed my husband, Ethan Graves. As just another junior employee, I didn’t even have the chance to call her out in front of everyone. Instead, I slipped away to the restroom and asked Ethan for a divorce. He brushed it off as if I were only sulking. "Don’t take it so seriously. She’s just had too much to drink. In the corporate world, you have to entertain, play along for the sake of the project." However, in the very next round, when Victoria was dared to kiss someone else, Ethan flipped the table in front of everyone. "Touch her, and see what happens."

Sam Cassidy and I have been married for three years. We lived in the poorer part of the city and ate canned food that was close to expiring, and I worked three jobs a day. I even had to consider for 30 minutes before deciding if I should buy a box of discounted strawberries. Sam was gentle and considerate, and I could not find any fault with him except that he was extremely broke. He was so broke that I had to take care of him financially when I could barely take care of myself. However, we had to live life positively, and an ordinary and busy life was the norm for ordinary people like us. This continued until I accidentally bumped into his phone, and the screen lit up. A chat group named 'The Fake Broke Challenge Committee' appeared on his phone screen. [I guess you're the reigning champion again, Sam.] [It's impressive that it has been three years and your lie hasn't been exposed.]

My brand of teenage heroism meant charging straight into the line of fire for my childhood friend. When they made him stand in the hall, I stood beside him. When people spread rumors about him, I set the record straight. When a pack of thugs cornered him, I came in swinging. Jessica Garner, the girl who grew up next door to me, was always on my case about never looking out for myself. Still, she stood beside me in the hall. She guarded the door to the PA room for me. She carefully dabbed ointment on my cuts, one by one. Years later, Daniel Jonasson's fiancée cleaned him out. He lost both his money and the woman he loved. My heroism flared up again. Within half a month, I gathered the evidence, filed the lawsuit, and argued the case myself. I made her pay until she had nothing left. Jessica told me I pushed myself too hard, but she stayed by my side anyway. Then, on the eve of the wedding, a mutual friend called out of nowhere. He told me Daniel's ex had found out his new girlfriend was pregnant. She'd sent men after him, and he'd ended up in the ER. My mind went blank. Without thinking, I rushed into his hospital room. Then I looked up and found Jessica standing right beside his bed. Only then did I remember. I had always been the one asking her to look after Daniel. There was no time to say anything to her. I turned to him in a panic. "Are you okay? I already covered the hospital bill. I heard your girlfriend's pregnant. Was she shaken up? Where is she? Do I know her?" Daniel's expression turned awkward as he glanced at Jessica. My heart lurched. I followed his gaze. Jessica raised her head, her expression calm. "You do. It's me."

Ethan Carter is an international captain for Delta Air Lines. I'd been engaged to him for five years. In those five years,the only time I ever asked him to indulge me was when I sent him a photo of my mother's flight journal. That journal recorded the route she'd flown on her last trip: Boston to Paris. Her health was already failing by then. I wanted Ethan to mark that route for me, and paste it on the last page of the memorial album. He just replied, "I've got a transatlantic flight tomorrow. Flight safety isn't for humoring people." Last week Ethan came home on leave, and while I was sorting his luggage, I found a waterproof document pouch tucked in a lining. Inside was a full set of simulator debrief materials. A name was written on the cover: Claire Bennett. A young first officer at Delta, the rookie Ethan had personally mentored these past two years as she pushed for her international route certification. I opened to the first page. From takeoff roll to stall recovery to approach deviation, every page carried Ethan's handwritten notes. Red circles, blue underlines, black annotations, the handwriting crisp, just like the man himself. A private recommendation letter was tucked into the pouch. He wrote that Claire had "steady judgment, an exceptional capacity to learn, and the potential to join a transatlantic flight crew." Every word was restrained, and every word was precise. The most recent file had been modified last Valentine's Day. That day I'd booked a restaurant. Ethan said he was prepping for a flight and couldn't have dinner with me. I didn't cry. I didn't ask. I picked up my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Seattle. Seattle's air medical transport program was hiring a lead physician. I used to think the future between Ethan and me was something I had to wait for: wait for him to fly less, wait for him to be less busy, wait for him to finally have a spare moment to glance at my journal. I didn't want to wait anymore.

On the day we were supposed to leave for our graduation trip to the Cloudspire Plateau, my girlfriend dropped off the face of the earth. While I waited at Bellwarren International Airport, my roommate sent me a strangely loaded message. "Elliot, don't panic. There's a big surprise coming." I felt relieved. I assumed Naomi was running late because she was getting dressed up. She'd always promised that the day we graduated, she'd put on a wedding gown and marry me. Then our class representative dropped a cash giveaway into the group chat. @Everyone: "Thanks to every student and faculty member here to witness Naomi Keller and Derek Vaughn's engagement! Three years together, and they finally made it official!" It was cleaned out in seconds. One classmate after another posted congratulations. Then somebody finally put it together and wrote, "Holy hell, Owen. Did you forget to take Elliot out of this group?" The chat went dead silent. A second later, all of them started tagging me. "Elliot, don't come down here and make a scene. They've been together in secret for three years. It wasn't easy getting to this day." "You're so controlling that Derek couldn't show his face for three years. He's been through enough." Even our faculty adviser piled on. "Do it as a favor to me. You're a man, so be the bigger person. Don't ruin their night. Let them keep some dignity." Their messages closed in around me until I couldn't breathe, let alone ask a single question. The promise that was supposed to carry us from school uniforms to a wedding gown wasn't the only lie. Every part of those four years had been one.

When my family fell into bankruptcy, I sold myself off for 500 million to pay off our debts and became the wife of Zack Landton—a man twelve years older than me. Everyone knew Zack as a lifelong celibate. They called him a pervert who could not get it up. I had already resigned myself to a sexless marriage, but he showed me a world beyond my wildest imagination. He went at it nearly ten times every night, and I cried and begged for him to spare me because it was too much. He spoiled me rotten but had two terms of his own. He forbade me from calling myself his wife, and he prohibited me from going to the monastery he visited every month. He explained, "I want to keep this a secret to protect you. The monastery is a boring place for a girl like you." I believed him, until I secretly followed him to the monastery this year. I wanted to write down the scriptures with my own hands and give them to him on his birthday. Instead, I saw him kneeling in front of another woman. She looked eerily similar to me. In his hand was the Diamond Star, the very same ring I had been wearing for years. "It's been five years, Eve, and my addiction is cured. I swear I'll never hurt you. You promised you'd marry me. Let's go to the city hall now." Eve. That was the same thing he called me. Tears spilled. Then again, five years had passed. And whatever promise had once held this ridiculous marriage together had clearly expired along with them. It was time for this mockery of a relationship to take its final bow.

After I become pregnant, Mason Clarke suddenly becomes incredibly attentive to me. He cancels all his social engagements and personally cooks for me every day. Everyone envies me for finding such a devoted and caring husband. Until one day in his study, I accidentally discover a document titled "Prenatal Blood Donation and Cord Blood Donation Agreement". My name and social security number are clearly written on it! In the beneficiary column is Chloe Reid, his first love, whom he has been supporting abroad for seven years. From outside the door comes his gentle, doting voice. "Chloe, don't worry. I'm personally monitoring her. Her nutrition and daily routine are held to the highest standards to ensure the baby is born perfectly healthy. Your life-saving treatment is absolutely guaranteed!" So all those pregnancy meals he carefully prepares for me, the mountains of expensive supplements, none of it is ever out of love. It's all to fatten me into nothing more than a walking blood bank!

After her miscarriage, Elise Emery became exactly the wife Colsen Locke had always wanted. She quit telling him about her day. Quit calling when he stayed out all night. Even when an old man falsely accused her of hitting him with her car, she didn't call anyone. Didn't ask for bail. She just spent seven days in custody. At dusk on the seventh day, the precinct's iron gate clanged open. Elise had barely made it down the steps when a black Maybach screeched to a stop in front of her. The door swung open. Colsen stepped out in a custom suit, tall and lean, all broad shoulders and cold control. Same polished look. Same unreadable face.

On the day before my wedding with Anthony Jackson, I was involved in a car accident. When I was semiconscious, I heard his conversation with the doctor. "Anthony, are you sure you want to give Indya Nina's corneas? Once it's done, then Nina will be blinded for the rest of her life." "I'm sure. Nina will still have me for the rest of her life, but Indya can't lose her eyesight. Make sure you don't leave any loose ends." As soon as he finished speaking, I felt a hand stroking my face. "Don't worry, Nina. I'll be your eyes for the rest of your life." It seemed that the person that I had deeply loved had always been loving another woman. If that was what they wanted, then I would fulfill their wish.

For the first time ever since we got together, my boyfriend, Clarence Xenos, got angry with me because an eight-million-dollar company deal was ruined. In front of everyone, he belittled me and called me worthless. When we got home that night, he said in a cold corporate tone, “Work is work. There’s no ‘us’ in the office. You messed up, and that’s that.” An intern in our office, Naomi Smyth, texted me an apology. [Lucia, I’m so sorry. This was totally on me. But don’t worry, Clay got me a cupcake to cheer me up. It was actually pretty good. Do you want me to order one for you, too?] The next morning, Clarence habitually threw the breakfast I had prepared into the trash can. “How many times do I have to repeat myself? I don’t eat breakfast.” At work, my colleague, Zoey Thorpe, leaned in with a sly look and gossiped to me. “That new intern is so bold. She went up and talked to Mr. Xenos, and even bought him coffee and a sandwich. He not only ate them but also commented that they were delicious.” Whatever. I was beyond caring at that point. The person on my phone was still relentlessly trying to get me to be with him. [Look, if it doesn’t work out with him, I’m fine being the other guy. Just give me a chance, alright?] I pursed my lips and typed back. [There’s no need to be the other guy. You can just be my boyfriend.]

My fiancé, Everett Prescott, spent five whole years designing my wedding dress, and it finally arrived today. Except I couldn't zip it up. It stayed wide open until my best friend, Sienna Hart, slipped into the dress perfectly. The fabric hugged her curves like a second skin. She turned to my fiancé with an exasperated sigh. "Everett, are you serious? You got Leah’s size wrong. Again." My blood ran cold. Over the five years Everett and I had been together, this wasn't the first time he'd conveniently forgotten my measurements. When he bought me pajamas that were a size too small, he just blinked, flashing that easy grin of his. "Oh, wait. I think this is Sienna's size, right? Let's just give it to her. I'll buy you another set." When my engagement ring turned out to be too small, he scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "My bad. Well, we already bought it, so we might as well give it to Sienna. Lucky her." Our wedding was in two days, and once again, he got the measurements dead wrong. Everett rubbed his nose, giving a weak laugh. "Totally my fault, babe. My bad. I'll just take it back to the shop and get it altered." "Everett, altering a custom wedding dress takes at least six months," I said, my voice barely a whisper. He offered a helpless smile. "Well, you can't exactly walk down the aisle without a dress, right? Don't worry about it. As soon as the dress is altered, we'll have the wedding immediately. We've already waited five years. What's another six months?" Right then, my phone buzzed in my palm. [Sweetheart, the guy you have an arranged marriage with is flying back into the country in two days. I don't care what excuse you have this time. You’re coming home and marrying him!] I stared at the screen for a long time before replying: [Got it. I'll be there.] I spent five long years waiting around for this wedding. I'm not waiting another six months.

After we remarried, I became the absolute perfect husband in Zoe’s eyes. When she stayed out all night, I stopped calling to check up on her. When she went to parties and ended up in passionate kisses with other men, I turned a blind eye and kept my mouth shut. Even at a high school reunion, when someone teased her and asked if her biggest regret was not marrying the school heartthrob, I simply smiled and smoothed things over for her. “Honestly, yeah. If I hadn’t clung to her back then, maybe she would be together with the person she truly loved by now.” Hearing that, the woman beside me suddenly panicked. “Are you serious? Won’t you regret losing me?” Regret? I let out a soft laugh. My only regret was coming out of our first divorce with absolutely nothing. This time, when the divorce papers are signed, I won’t be the one walking away empty-handed.

Mandy York, my girlfriend, was practically a migratory bird that always flew away during summer. Every year, during July and August, which were the hottest months of the year, she would fly off and disappear from the face of the earth. She said that it was because her company gave her a special project abroad that required absolute secrecy from her. She was also not to contact anyone during that period of time. Even when I got into a car accident last year and lay in the ICU for two months, she never called to ask about me. Plenty of times, I had comforted myself and endured the harsh summer alone. One day, I accidentally saw the social media account of a friend of mine living abroad. It was his alternate account. Every year, during July and August, this alternate account would get really active. It would be full of videos and photos about his daily life with his daughter and a “mother” who always had her face hidden with stickers. In the videos, the mother accompanied the daughter to watch fireworks at Disneyland and pick up shells at the beach. Sometimes, I could see the side of her face. There was a mole at the corner of her eyes. I could even see a clear scar at the back of her hand. They were so familiar to me that my blood ran cold. It was Mandy. During the summer holidays, she would vanish for sixty days, and this had lasted for five years. So, she had never been flying off to work. She had gone to her other family. I sat stupefied on the couch and stared at the blinding sun outside. Suddenly, this year’s upcoming summer did not feel so difficult any longer. I picked up my phone and agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Since Mandy refused to stay with me during summer, I was not going to waste my time on her.

After giving me the cold shoulder for a month, Jules Anderson voluntarily handed me two VIP wristbands for Coachella and invited me to attend it on our wedding anniversary. I was dressed to the nines that day, but he never appeared, even after admissions started. Then, once I was about to enter, I realized that the wristbands in my bag were gone. At that moment, Jules' childhood sweetheart, Maddie Washington, updated her social media. In the photo, Jules was solemnly holding a pink cotton candy, completely different from his usual cold and aloof demeanor. The caption read: [Finally seeing Domi Dora. Thank you to the person who always responds to my every request.] Looking at the empty compartment in my bag, I suddenly understood everything. In the past, I would have had a big argument with Jules and forced him to give me an explanation. Now, I just felt relieved. It had been five years. I accumulated so many disappointments that I was drained.

My twin Alpha brothers believed that I have deliberately hidden the vast inheritance left by our Alpha parents so that our adoptive sister Sophia couldn’t by the medical equipment to treat her silver poisoning. For the sake of our adoptive sister, my twin Alpha brothers dragged me before the Council's tribunal. They accused me of stealing pack assets and deliberately harming pack members. If the charges stuck, the Alpha Council would strip away my Alpha power to treat Sophia. My brothers had no idea that years ago, I'd nearly died protecting them. If I lost my Alpha bloodline strength, I would die. In my own brothers' eyes, I was already a criminal beyond redemption. But when the Council used ancient magic to extract my memories for judgment, everyone wept for me. And when my brothers learned the truth, they fell to their knees, begging my forgiveness.