Feel-Good Story Cheating-Kurzgeschichten & -Kurzromane

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

I drag my suitcase out of the airport and walk straight into a massive billboard. "Welcome back, Jennifer Palmer, the great love of Ivan Olsen's life." The entire Internet praises him for having waited faithfully for ten years. A star-struck reporter shoves a microphone in my face and asks, "Ms. Palmer, are you moved that Mr. Olsen has remained celibate for you all this time?" I blink in confusion at her question. "Who's Ivan?"

A medical report shows me my husband's true colors. I've been diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. Yet, my husband gives our life savings to someone else. I lunge at him to take my anger out on him, but he shoves me to the floor. "Lillian needs the money to open up a shop, you madwoman! So what if I've given her the money? "You have late-stage stomach cancer, so it's the end of the line for you! Why are you trying to compete with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave? You can't expect Mom and I to lose everything because of you, right?" I sit dazedly on the floor. I've never found him more unfamiliar. After that, I sneak all my wedding gifts out, wanting to sell them for money. However, I'm told they're all fakes. My husband sneers. "I'm glad I had the foresight to switch them out for the real deal. You would've taken all the money if not for that!" Later, the hospital called to say there was an issue with their system. The names on the medical reports were wrongly indicated. I ask my husband, "Why are you competing with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave?"

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!"

My avoidant fiance refused to talk to me about anything. Every time we fought, he would put on his earphones and turn the volume all the way up. This time, we were arguing over laundry detergent again. He impatiently slammed the earphones on me. "Are you seriously going to do this again, Jessica? You fight because of bad photos. You start a fight because I didn't take out the trash in time, and you start fights because I forgot our anniversaries. And now I can't even choose which detergent I use?" I stared at the red mark on my thigh and the broken earphones on the ground. I saved up most of my salary for that. It was a present, but now he was using it to vent. Yet he had kept the laundry detergent his childhood friend gave him for six whole years. Every time an important date was coming up, he would use a bit of it to wash all his clothes. The sickly sweet scent of that detergent filled the room. I looked up and held back my tears. "Let's break up, Zack."

While visiting a property development with my fiancé to buy our first home, I ran into a two-faced real estate agent.   She showered my fiancé with compliments, praising him for being young and successful enough to afford a Rolls-Royce.   Then, she suggested I was a fake socialite with a knockoff designer bag, implying that I was just using my charms to snag a free house.   When she found out the property was meant to be a marital home, her voice grew loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.   “I just think the sugar daddy who bought you those two properties last time treated you pretty well!” “Oh, wait. Miss Gwen, don’t you have several sugar daddies? Do they all know about each other?”   I chuckled. What she didn’t know was that my “sugar daddies” were my godfathers and I really was a socialite.   The kicker, though, was that my so-called wealthy fiancé wasn’t rich at all. In fact, he was just a scholarship student I had been financially supporting!

The day I go into labor, my husband's student, Yasmin Holden, storms off in a rage. She climbs the mountains alone while heavily pregnant. For the next three days and nights, my husband disappears to look for her. Meanwhile, I suffer a difficult labor and hemorrhage badly. I'm rushed into the ICU. When I finally wake up, the doctor hands my husband a critical condition notice. He hands me divorce papers. "Yasmin is my most promising student. I can't let her do anything foolish. You're about to be a mother, so you need to be strong!" In my last life, I refused to sign. As soon as I left the maternity ward, I reported their affair to the university. Yasmin lost her graduate school recommendation and was torn apart by public scandal. In front of me, she slit her own throat. By the time my husband arrived, Yasmin was already gone—along with the baby. He quietly handled her funeral and said nothing. Then, he returned to me as if nothing had happened. I thought that meant I was finally going to have a happy ending. But one day, he drove our car off a cliff with me and our daughter inside. That day was Yasmin's death anniversary. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I give birth.

The day they threw me into the horde was the same day I planned to propose to Sasha Frost. The crystal-core ring I had bought with every last cent I had rolled across the ground. It was stomped into the mud by someone in the garrison uniform. It was my best friend, Rafe Donovan. "Nico, don't blame me." He looked down at me without a shred of guilt in his eyes. "Sasha deserves better. And you, some deadbeat who talks to corpses, were never going to give her a future." I stared past him at the familiar figure behind his shoulder. Sasha, the woman I had loved for three years, was leaning into Axel Kain, the base commander's son. She did not spare me a single glance. Her eyes were locked on the ring on Axel's finger, forged from an S-class crystal core. It was 10,000 times brighter than my pathetic little stone.

My father was one of the best scientists in the world, and he was kidnapped. Three days later, they found his corpse by the river. I kept vigil for an entire night. Henry Franke, my husband, pitied me and swore to find the murderer so that he could help me take revenge, but after the funeral, I heard the university student he was sponsoring say, “Henry, I just couldn’t stand Professor Smith insulting me during his lecture, and I wanted to scare him a bit. I wasn’t expecting the kidnappers to kill him. I don’t want to go to jail!” Henry sighed. “You were too impulsive, but Professor Smith was in the wrong too. I’ll get this settled for you, but I suppose Luna won’t get her revenge.” I felt my mind go blank in shock, but I suppressed my rage and left quietly. What Henry did not know was that the medicine that could help him stand again had eight doses. The first seven were all slow-acting toxins, and only the last one was the antidote that could truly cure him. However, they had killed the only person who could create the antidote.

After dating me for a decade, Alfred Rodriguez officially admitted that he was in a relationship with someone else. It was not me but a popular young actress.Exhilarated, their fans created an online buzz about their dating. I posted a diamond ring on my Facebook, announcing that I'm getting married. Alfred called me."Delete that post. Don't even think about forcing me to marry you in this way. I've just got my reputation in the entertainment circle and announced a relationship. I can't marry you now..." "Mr. Rodriguez, I'm marrying someone else. Come to my wedding party if you're free."I hung up. Alfred went mad. He called me countless times that night. On my wedding day, he turned up with red eyes and asked if I'd elope with him. What? How dare this guy seduce someone else's fiancée in public! What a pervert!

On our wedding day, my wife, Jessica Burke, a CEO as well, got into the wrong wedding limousine and ended up spending the night with her male assistant, Callum Ross. The next day, she came back covered in red marks. Kneeling before me, she begged for my forgiveness and swore she would fire Callum and never see him again. But one year later, I saw her in the OB/GYN department when she was supposed to be overseas on a business trip. She was holding a crying, hungry baby in her arms. And beside her stood Callum, who had supposedly disappeared for an entire year. In a fit of rage, I kicked them out of the hospital. Unexpectedly, the baby disappeared that very night. Jessica blamed everything on me. To force me to return the child, she strapped a time bomb to my parents. I denied it again and again, but Jessica only roared, "Eric Miller! I've treated you well enough! Why would you still hurt my baby? Hand over my child right now, or I'll set off the bomb!" With that, she activated the time bomb, and the clock began its countdown. Seeing that I failed to tell her the baby's whereabouts, Jessica angrily pushed my parents into the sea of flames. Just then, someone informed her that her baby had been found. Jessica resolutely turned around and left, leaving my parents to be blown to pieces by the explosion. While she and Callum were throwing a party to celebrate their baby's first month, I was on the ground, gathering what little remained of my parents. At this moment, I regretted ever loving her.

The year the Lawson family was on the edge of bankruptcy, my father made a deal with Rory Lawson and arranged for me to marry him. I didn't know he already had a fiancée, who was also his childhood sweetheart. Later, when my father became embroiled in a scandal and the company faced collapse, Rory brought her home, promising her the grand wedding she deserved. I didn't cry or make a scene. I just quietly packed my bags. Rory sneered, "Don't pull that hard-to-get act. You think you're still the pampered heiress?" Unknown to him, I had the divorce agreement he signed while drunk. In seven days, I'd be leaving the country with my father.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

Five years into our marriage, I still hadn't gotten pregnant. The doctor said my fallopian tubes were blocked and that conceiving would be difficult. Even so, my husband, Lucas Enright, loved me with all his heart. Then, on our anniversary, he called and promised me a surprise I'd never forget. But when the estate gates swung open, a pregnant young woman stood outside. The smile froze on my face. Lucas didn't notice. He kissed the top of my head, beaming. "Freya, once we have this baby, the elders in my family will finally stop pressuring you about not having kids." When he saw how pale I was and noticed me trembling, he quickly pulled me into his arms. "Isabella is nothing more than a surrogate. Once she gives birth, we'll send her on her way. "If you don't like having her around, I'll put her in the guest room. You won't even have to see her." I swallowed my hurt and told myself he'd simply gone too far. Surely he still cared about me. But later that night, I walked past the guest room carrying a glass of warm milk on a tray. Through the half-open door, I saw the man who claimed to love me with all his heart tenderly kissing Isabella's pregnant belly. "Baby, grow strong and healthy. In a few more months, we'll get to meet you. "Mommy and Daddy can't wait for you to get here!" In that moment, I realized I was the real outsider in this house, and I always had been!

Using an alternative account, I secretly join a cycling group chat that my husband, Liam Johnson, is in. One day, an announcement is made in the group chat. "We'll be organizing a weekend mountain biking activity with an overnight stay, with two people sharing a room. To add some excitement, we'll be drawing lots for room assignments." I can't really understand it. Curious, I ask, "What if a man and a woman end up drawing the same room?"

Seven years into our marriage, my husband, Lucas Thorne, is hailed as a legendary astronomer in the field of astronomy. It is no secret that he absolutely adores me, his wife. He always keeps a polite, distant demeanor with those around him. Even when his new assistant, Serena Cox, asks for his number, he coldly turns her down. In the year he proposed to me, he named a star "LAW", which was an acronym for "Lucas Adores Wilma". Since then, every asteroid he discovers is named with initials that hold a special significance only the two of us know. To others, they might just be scientific achievements. But to me, they are unspoken love letters. This goes on until this morning, when I stumble upon an unfamiliar phone. I unlock it easily with my middle name, thinking it's yet another quiet gesture of his love. But to my horror, I find a string of explicit messages between him and another woman. The person who was at the receiving end of those messages was none other than… Serena, his assistant.

I had been begging my wife for weeks, and she finally agreed to come to the movie theater with our son and me to catch the latest blockbuster. My plan was to wait until the credits rolled, then hit her with the big news: I’d just been promoted to general manager of the entire multiplex. Then, right in the middle of the movie, my phone buzzed with a wave of notifications from the work group chat. [Holy crap! Hall 3 is wild right now, 4K quality!] [Are people for real right now? Doing it in a movie theater like they’re glued together?] [Seriously though, ping janitorial ASAP. That row is gonna need a deep clean.] My mind went blank. Hall 3? That was the exact theater we were sitting in. Curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped on the video file. The second the screen lit up, my whole body froze. The couple in the video was sitting right in our row. It was my wife, sitting just past our son, locked together with the guy next to her. I spun my head toward her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy. "What the hell are you doing?!" I snapped.

When my wife brought her lover home for the fifth time, I decided enough was enough. I said nothing, not a word of complaint or protest. Instead, I superglued the windows shut and locked the bedroom door from the outside. From the bedroom came the muffled sounds of her little escapade, breathless and feverish, carrying through the walls like a shameful melody no one asked to hear. Calmly, I sat in the living room, picked up the phone, and called my mother-in-law. "Jessie," I said, putting on my best tone of urgency, "it's bad—real bad! Your daughter's locked herself in the bedroom and says she's gonna end it all!"

Just one week into my new job, I was wrongfully accused of cooking the books, and it cost me five years behind bars. After that, my wife found out she was pregnant. She insisted on having the baby and promised to wait for me to come home. Out of gratitude, I threw myself into work after my release. I did everything I could to give them a good life. It was until one day, I overheard a conversation between my wife and our son. “Mom, don’t let Dad come out with us. It’s embarrassing! Why did you pin Mr. Scott’s crime on him back then?! And now, the girl next door keeps making fun of me, saying my dad’s a criminal!” My wife gently pulled our son close and comforted him, saying, “I promised Mr. Scott I’d help him. Your dad’s so naive. He’ll never find out.” It turned out that my supposed happy life was nothing but lies and betrayal!

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.