Tragic Love Cheating 단편 소설 & 소설

A month before my wedding, I've discovered a series of suspicious transfers made by my fiancee, Irene Lambert. The recipient is none other than her first love, Blake Chandler—the man she has never truly forgotten. For seven years, she has sent him 50 thousand dollars every month without fail. When I place the bank statements before Irene and demand an explanation, she barely looks up from her work. "Blake injured his right hand saving me. The money is simply compensation for what happened. Don't worry, money's the only thing I'll ever give him," she says evenly. I refuse to let the matter go, but even my friends urge me to overlook it. "It's only 50 thousand dollars. With how wealthy Irene is, she'd consider a watch at that price too cheap to buy for you. As a man, you've got to be the bigger person," they argue. With our wedding only a month away and seven years of history between us, I finally give in. That is, until I discover that our housekeeper, Olivia Harper, prepares a child's meal every afternoon and delivers it to Irene's office. When I confront Olivia, she stares at me in confusion. "Isn't that your child, Mr. Sanford? He's already around five or six years old—and he calls Ms. Lambert 'Mommy'."

Lucas Harlow and I have been together for seven years, and we plan to get married next year. When I accompany him to his hometown to meet his parents, we happen to arrive just in time for his cousin Spencer Harlow's wedding. Following a local tradition, the older relatives cheerfully urge Lucas to sleep in the newlyweds' bed the night before the ceremony for good luck. Lucas' mother, Beatrice Collins, takes my hand and explains with a smile, "Katherine, I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable. It's an old custom around here. "Before the wedding, a man who's still a virgin blesses the couple's bed by sleeping in it. It's supposed to bring the newlyweds good luck and a happy marriage." I lower my head in embarrassment, for Lucas and I are saving ourselves for our wedding night. No matter how difficult the wait has been for him over the past seven years, he's always respected that boundary and insisted on doing right by me. When I finally look up, my cheeks still burning, I see that Lucas has gone pale. Flustered and visibly uncomfortable, he frantically waves everyone off and adamantly refuses to go anywhere near the bed. "I can't do it. You're going to have to find someone else…" As I watch my boyfriend avoid everyone's gaze, my heart drops.

After my song was cut short at karaoke, I found myself back at the song selection machine. I just had to wait for 28 more songs until it would finally be my turn again. The next song was called "The Answer". My boyfriend, John Aldama, and my best friend, Selena Summers, gave each other a look of mild disdain but decided to sing the duet to prevent an awkward silence. Their voices, one cool and one sweet, complemented each other perfectly. Ever since high school, they'd been neck and neck on the honor roll, always vying for first and second place. Even after joining a top-tier company, they'd constantly bicker over projects. Even years after graduation, the people in our high school group chat were still "shipping" their "love-hate dynamic". No matter how hard I tried, I always remained the forgotten third person, an overlooked backdrop. Listening to them sing, I suddenly felt so tired. I no longer felt like singing the song that I had to wait endlessly for. I quietly deleted the song I'd selected and sent a confirmation to the email that asked me to be relocated abroad for work.

Vanessa Langley lay on my operating table, pregnant for the eighth time by the man she'd grown up with. This time, I didn't break down the way I had the previous seven. Instead I calmly closed the incision and went over the aftercare with her. Seven times I'd performed the procedure on my own wife because she was carrying another man's child. I had long since become the joke of the hospital, the story everyone traded over coffee. From getting pregnant by him to pressuring me into ending it, she always had a reason she considered perfectly respectable. This time, Vanessa's eyes reddened and she caught my sleeve. "Adrian, someone drugged Damian. I couldn't just leave him... "Don't worry, I'll end the pregnancy. You're my husband. You're the only man I'd ever have a child with." Even the nurses talked during the procedure, wondering whether I'd fold the way I always had, worn down by a few soft words and a few tears. But nobody knew we'd signed an agreement before the wedding. I gave Vanessa eight chances to get it wrong, and she had used them all. The agreement took effect, and every asset in her name passed to me.

A sudden burst of screams erupted in the living room at 3 AM. I pushed open the door to hear the commentator announcing that my fiancé Noah Lucas' favorite team had advanced to the quarter-finals. Our best friend, Jessie Newman, jumped up excitedly and kissed Noah on the cheek. I would be taking wedding photos with Noah in another five hours. The hangover soup on the table had long since gone cold, with a cigarette butt floating in it. I could not help coughing. The two of them froze mid-conversation. Jessie realized what it looked like and stepped over the wine bottles on the floor with her fair legs. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, too. Her voice was gentle and innocent. "Lola, why are you awake? Don't overthink. I've been best friends with Noah since kindergarten. We were just messing around! Noah was too noisy, wasn't he? I'll teach him a lesson for you." Noah casually tossed a cushion at her, hitting her squarely on her bottom, and teased with a laugh, "You're blaming me? You were the one shouting!" Then, he nonchalantly reassured me, "Lola, we're about to take our wedding photos soon. Go and get some more sleep. We'll turn the volume down." There was no apology or explanation. They were just trying to brush me off, as always. They assumed I was being paranoid and petty, tainting their 20-year friendship by overthinking. I loosened my grip on my nightgown. "It's okay. You guys continue." I had had enough of this three-person farce. I was done.

I'm a talker, while my boyfriend's a workaholic. He tells me I'm annoying, deletes me from his contacts, and blocks my number. If I want to reach him, I have to submit a request three hours in advance, and once it's approved, I get five minutes of his time. This is my 99th request to go see the Northern Lights. I'm just waiting for him to reject it so I can finally let this relationship go. But instead, the approval comes through. I spend an entire week putting together an itinerary and only ask him to book our flights. When I get to the airport, I receive a notification telling me to book my own ticket. I make excuses for him, tell myself he's busy with work. But after I land, I find him sitting with my best friend Becca Holloway, posing for one of those couple's portraits that takes a full hour to finish. He sees me and frowns. "So I didn't get your ticket. What's the big deal? "There were only two first-class seats left, and Becca has a bad back. She had to sit there." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, then pushes the luggage beside him toward me. "Grab these, will you? Becca hurt her wrist, so she can't lift anything." The moment he finishes talking, he reaches up and takes out his hearing aid with practiced ease, cutting me off before I can say a word. Something in me just gives out. I take the sticky notes from my pocket and toss them in the trash. I plan to write down everything I want to say on them, so I won't waste his time. Now I don't need them anymore.

This is the third time Seth Farrelly and I are heading to the courthouse to get our marriage certificate. The first time, his late friend's sister, Emma Lewis, loses her dog, and he spends the entire day helping her look for it. The second time, Emma says she isn't feeling well, and he spends the whole day at the hospital with her. I tell myself three's the limit. Today has to be the day we make it official. But then a sudden downpour hits. Seth shoves the only black umbrella we have into my hands. Then he takes off his suit jacket and runs into the rain toward Emma, wrapping the jacket around her and the Samoyed in her arms. "Emma isn't in good health. She can't be out in the rain. I'll take her home first. We can deal with the marriage paperwork another time." His voice is as cold and detached as ever. I stand there, gripping the umbrella handle, staring at the man who can't stand even a speck of dirt. Yet he lets the dog's muddy paw leave prints all over his white shirt. And he still holds Emma protectively in his arms. What Seth doesn't know is that this is the last time I'll ever wait for him. My phone vibrates, and a message from Emma pops up. "You lost again. That's three times now." Watching the two of them disappear into the rain, I reply calmly, "I know."

I unexpectedly receive a call from myself ten years in the past. 18-year-old me sounds rather thrilled while asking, "Who did you end up marrying, 28-year-old Theo? Did you marry the calm and gentle Hannah Shaw or the bold and fiery Mia Shaw?" I look down at the scar left by my severed finger and chuckle softly. "I didn't marry either of them." There is a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before he speaks up. "You're lying. Hannah said she would be there for me for the rest of our lives, and Mia said that she would stand up for me if anyone mistreated me." I close my eyes briefly before saying, "They are the ones who will hurt you in the future. They both fell in love with Isaac Somerville, the housekeeper's son. They killed Dad so he could become part of the Webster family—and burned down the Webster residence just to please him. "You even lost your right eye in the fire." 18-year-old me on the other end of the line is clearly flustered. "H-How could that be?" I grip the phone tightly and say with the last bit of strength I have left, "You should choose neither of them, Theo. Get as far away from them as you can, and don't look back this time."

Three days ago, the Lucchese Family's assassins ambushed a Moretti Family stronghold, and I threw myself in front of Eric without a second thought. That was the fourth time I'd taken a bullet for him. But before I could even begin to recover from the gunshot wound, my attending physician handed me an even more devastating diagnosis: late-stage brain cancer. The tumor had already metastasized, and I had less than a month to live. Just as I sat there in agony,Eric walked in，he strode to my bedside and took my hand, his expression tender with concern. Knowing I only had days left, I tested the waters. "Eric... when are we getting married? Will you marry me?" "Soon, soon, sweetheart. Trust me. Once I've secured the Don's seat and cleared out all those old men in the Family who oppose me, I'll give you the most spectacular wedding this country has ever seen. I'll make sure everyone knows that you, Selena, are the only woman worthy of standing by my side." His voice was so sincere that it could have fooled anyone. But in that very instant, I heard another voice. [Damn it, why is Selena bringing up marriage now? Doesn't she know I'm at the most critical moment in the power struggle? Angelina is the Astalotta Family's princess. Only by marrying her can I get her father's backing and secure my position as the Moretti Don once and for all.] [Marrying Angelina is just a strategic move. I'm putting on a show with her, using her family's influence. Selena is the true love of my life. Why can't she just be a little more understanding and stop pressuring me at the worst possible time?] I could hear Eric's thoughts. And what chilled me to the bone was the brutal truth hidden in those thoughts. I closed my eyes, exhausted. I didn't expose him. I didn't have the strength to confront him. I was out of time.

At my father-in-law's funeral, my wife's lover took the son-in-law's seat in the family pew, holding his three-year-old daughter, the two of them wearing the family's mourning ribbons. I was left standing off to the side. Vanessa lowered her voice and tried to reason with me. "Dad's funeral matters. You've always known when to be sensible. Making a scene won't do you any good. "Damon gave me my only child. He's earned the right to sit up front as a son-in-law." Then Damon leaned in close enough that only I could hear him. "You've got some nerve. Our wife just humiliated you in front of everyone, and you're still standing here. "After my daughter and I take that seat today, everyone in Crownridge will know me as the Carlisle son-in-law. You won't even register. Let's see how long you last." My mother-in-law had her turn too. "You can't blame anyone but yourself. Ten years married to Vanessa and you never gave her a child." I beckoned to my two five-year-old sons waiting near the back. "Come here. Take your places up front as your grandfather's grandsons and say goodbye to him." They wanted children? Who said I didn't have any?

I'm just about to cross the street when the pedestrian light starts flashing. I hesitate, unsure whether to make a run for it. Wendy Sherman, my girlfriend, and Sawyer Young, my close friend, have already crossed to the other side. I'm the only one left behind after the pedestrian light changes to red. They reach the other side of the street without looking back at me once. A black car speeds past, splashing mud onto my pant legs before I finally react and take a step back. I have always been a little slow ever since childhood. I'm the last one to finish my meal and the one walking behind everyone else. Wendy and Sawyer worried I would fall behind in my studies, so one explains the questions to me while the other takes notes for me. They eventually end up leaning close together, arguing for the rest of the afternoon about geometric auxiliary lines. I remain sitting beside them, unable to get a word in. They insist on coming along to help me screen places when I go apartment hunting. They both grab a brochure from the real estate agent and walk together, talking about commute times and how much natural light the apartments get. Sawyer casually reaches over and helps Wendy carry her handbag. Wendy glances up at him, smiling and joking as they walk along. I end up as the one constantly trailing behind, watching their backs. That's when I suddenly get it—only people who move at the same pace can cross on the same green light, and the ones moving a beat too slow have to wait for the next light by themselves. I step forward and walk onto the crosswalk as the pedestrian light turns green. If I can't keep pace with them, I'll walk on my own from here on out.

On the day of my wedding, my groomsman, Steve Hayes, asks my bride, Vera Johnson, three questions. Both she and her bridesmaids will get money and a gold necklace each if she answers the questions correctly. I assume that she's determined to win, but surprisingly, she gets the first question wrong. "What's Colin's shoe size?" "Size 9," Vera replies without hesitation. "What's Colin's favorite color?" "Blue." Everyone exchanges glances with each other, feeling a little awkward. Steve asks Vera the easiest question. "When did Colin graduate from university?" Everyone believes that Vera won't get this question wrong. After all, we are university classmates. "2013," Vera answers. "I gave him a protective charm from Mt. Cloudpeak as his graduation gift. There's no way that I'll forget that." Panic grips my heart at that moment. I glance at my best friend, Steve, who's dressed in a blue groomsman suit. There's a protective charm hanging on the necklace around his neck. Steve's eyes flash before he whispers, "Colin graduated in 2012. The one who was held back was me." I'm struck by a realization. The last hint of hesitation in my heart disappears. The corners of my lips curl up into a smile as I look down to send my family a message. "Mom, Dad, can you drive the car over? I'm not getting married anymore."

Halport's shipping tycoon is marrying off his daughter and making a high-profile scene by grandly parading 99 wedding ships across Lumina Harbor. Jeremy Sutton, my best friend, excitedly drags me over to watch the spectacle. I instinctively take a photo to send to my girlfriend, Hazel Shepherd. I suddenly see two familiar figures in my camera frame. Hazel, who is supposed to be working overtime, is wearing a diamond-encrusted satin wedding dress and holding the hand of her childhood friend, Chris Lussier, as they board the magnificent lead ship. I freeze for a moment, then angrily try to rush forward and confront them. But Jeremy grabs me and holds me back. "Chris has always been Hazel's fiance. You're just humiliating yourself if you walk over and cause a scene. "I feel so bad for Hazel, who pretended to be poor and stayed with you in that cramped apartment for eight years. I'm saying this as your best friend—show some self-respect and don't be a shameless homewrecker." I feel completely numb inside as the cold sea breeze brushes against my face. It turns out that the woman I have been with for eight years has been lying to me all along. Even Jeremy, my best friend, has known the truth all along and hides it from me. I suddenly receive a message from Hazel. "I just got off work and took on two more tutoring gigs, Sebastian. I'll work hard and save up the 12,000 dollars for the wedding fund soon. I'll then head back to your hometown to get married to you, Sebastian." I look at the wealthy heiress standing on the ship, finding the whole thing utterly ridiculous. "You don't have to do that anymore. Mom is telling me to return home for a blind date."

On New Year's Eve, I hurry home from abroad to surprise my wife, Moira Wesley, from whom I've kept my return a secret. But when I push open the front door of our home, I'm greeted by the sound of laughter and friendly chatter. Overcome with emotions, I enter the house to see Moira with a baby in her arms as she announces sweetly, "Today, we celebrate New Year's Eve and Beatrice's one-month birthday! Happy New Year, everyone!" Upon hearing my entrance, Moira glances over her shoulder, then turns and walks toward me. She grabs the mug of hot tea on the table and splashes it at me. "Who are you? How dare you trespass into a private residence on New Year's Eve?" I try to ignore the burning pain on the left side of my face as I grab Moira's arm, hoping she'll explain herself. However, she shrugs off my grip and gives me another hard slap. "Noah, call the police! Tell them a suspicious person broke into our home and is attempting to rob us!" After that, Moira winks at me, then turns with the baby in her arms and joins an older couple. "Francine, Eric, don't worry about that. It was someone irrelevant." I stand in place, watching as the large family has fun in the house that now seems so unfamiliar, and feel a sudden wave of emptiness wash over me.

When I found out my wife was pregnant with her lover’s baby, I thought I’d lose my mind just like the first time I caught her cheating, smashing up the whole house like a lunatic. Instead, I looked at our antique vase and realized it was far too expensive to break over them. It just wasn't worth it. Later, walking past a bakery, I thought seeing her buying baby supplies with Joseph would ruin my appetite. Yet, to my surprise, the cake I bought tasted better than usual. Before going to bed, that familiar dark urge to swallow a handful of sleeping pills crept up on me again. I thought I was about to lose my mind and take the most drastic measures to get back at that despicable couple when my therapist sent a message, reminding me once more to go outside and get some fresh air. So, I headed south to soak in the sun and feel the ocean breeze. For twenty-seven whole days, I didn’t think about them once. That was until my wife, Sarah, called. “There are three days left in our divorce waiting period. Don’t forget to come back so we can finalize the paperwork. “Don’t worry, Daniel. This is just temporary. After I have the baby, we’ll remarry. You know you’re the only one I love.” Only after her reminder did I remember the divorce was even a thing. This time, though, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to play their games anymore. So, with the ocean breeze on my face, I said almost without thinking, “How about this time, we end it for good?”

While taking photos at the tourist attraction, I moved around three or four times to find the best angle. I aimed the camera at my boyfriend, Shawn Jacobson, and called out three times, "Hey, look this way." He seemed unable to hear me. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance instead. Then Nadia Sparks, my best friend, fumbled for her phone and called out to him, "Look at the camera!" He immediately struck a pose and smiled tenderly into her camera. A young couple saw the photos on Nadia's phone and teased her, "Wow, your boyfriend must really love you. You can see it in his eyes!" Nadia's face instantly turned bright red, and Shawn cleared his throat awkwardly. I looked down at my camera and saw that I had only captured a third of his profile. It looked like a paparazzi shot. Ever since we were kids, they had always ignored me. The two of them acted like I never had an opinion. As teenagers, they always excitedly picked where we would go, assuming I'd just follow along. When we grew up, the two of them decided to study medicine. They never bothered to ask what I wanted and signed me up for a medical program too. Later, they became the ER's dream team, while all my hard work only earned me a place as just a nurse. When I looked up, they were already walking side by side toward the next spot for photos. They probably expected me to just follow them, but I turned around and walked in the opposite direction. All this time, I had always stayed one step behind them. But even I had a day when I no longer wanted to follow them.

When Mom was seven months pregnant, a speeding car hit hers. Not only did she suffer multiple fractures, but she lost her child as well. Dad was heartbroken. As a top lawyer in his field, he promised Mom that he would seek justice for her. Yet on the day of the court hearing, when Dad saw that the defendant was his childhood sweetheart, he denied being the lawyer for Mom. He turned around and abandoned Mom, who was still in her wheelchair. Subsequently, Mom found her own lawyer. However, during the appeal of the second instance, Dad stood at the place of the defendant, taking on the role of the defense lawyer. Mom’s lawyer lost the case completely. She was charged for falsely accusing the innocent for selfish gain and had to pay a compensation for mental damage of $100,000. Mom’s entire body shook when she received the sentence. Ignoring the pain on her body, she went looking for Dad to question him, only to see him standing with his childhood sweetheart. “Gerald, your wife will surely get mad at you for doing this. What if she asks for a divorce?” Dad draped his jacket over her shoulders and assured her. “Megan, I would never accept this case had I known you were the defendant. You weren’t in a clear mental state during your pregnancy. We just aren’t fated to see our baby alive. Tina was just acting in a moment of spite. She loves me so much, she won’t make things difficult for me.” Mom felt all her energy drain from her body. She released her clenched fists, and the written court judgment fluttered to the ground. Using the remaining dollar in her account, she printed two copies of a divorce agreement.

My billionaire wife had just given birth when I was abducted and trapped in a sick, underground survival game. While I was sprinting through the woods with our newborn strapped to my back, Scarlett’s best friend’s voice boomed through the PA speakers. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your newborn and Damian? What are you doing here? Is your lover boy starting drama again?” Scarlett chuckled, her voice full of resigned affection. “Yeah. Jayden demanded some real entertainment. Damian thinks I have urgent work to take care of at the office, so he practically pushed me out the door while the kid was having surgery. He’s a sweet, naive idiot.” I tapped against the security camera lens, desperate to get Scarlett’s attention, but Jayden’s terrified scream distracted her into hitting the shock button on her remote control. The high-voltage electricity ran through me, and our newborn choked up blood, staining the earth. I curled around our son, sobbing in despair. As footsteps crunched closer, the high-rollers raised their stakes. It was a bet to see who would survive to the very end.

In the fifth year of our marriage, my firefighter husband, Mike Anderson, who never had the time to have a wedding ceremony with me, suddenly found time to do so. On the day of the ceremony, I could not contact Mike at all. It all became clear when I saw the video that had been sent into the firefighter family members’ group chat. His junior, Mia Scott was holding his arm as he received a heroic award from the mayor. Everyone in the group chat was making envious remarks. [Chief Anderson’s wife is so beautiful. She doesn’t look like a regular house wife like my husband claimed to be.] [That’s right, she looks so elegant and poised. She must be a great wife to Chief Anderson.] My rough hands were trembling. I was just about to tell them I was Mike’s wife, when I heard a loud explosion from my kitchen. As the searing heat consumed me, I called him for help. However, he interrupted me impatiently. “Why are you bothering me? I lied to you about the wedding ceremony because I was afraid of you coming up with such nonsense. “Mia’s father died because he saved me, so I let her accompany me to receive the award as my wife. Isn’t that reasonable?” I was stunned. Then, he hung up on me.

By their tenth anniversary, Claire Carlisle and Elliot Paulson were Auremont City's most infamous feuding couple. He lit up the skyline with a public love confession—to another woman. Claire fired back by burning down the private estate where he kept his mistress. In two years, their fights had landed them in the hospital ninety-nine times. Everyone thought the cycle would never end. Then eighteen-year-old Elliot showed up. He looked nothing like the cold, polished man he'd become. Just a faded T-shirt and eyes full of fierce, reckless love for Claire. Young. Clueless. Completely devoted. The second he saw how pale and frail she'd become, he stormed into Paulson Tower, tackled his older self, and beat him like he'd lost his mind. "She's the person I love most. How could you do this to her?!" From that day on, Claire finally had someone willing to stand between her and the world.