Tragic Love Cheating Short Stories & Novels

During the long National Day holidays, I planned a Golden Highlands trip for the whole family. I even booked tickets for a luxurious train ride so we could enjoy the scenery. But on departure day, my husband and son vanished. I called my husband. I could hear an airport boarding announcement in the background. My voice trembled. "Where are you?" He panicked and mumbled that the company had an emergency before hanging up. I tried calling again, but the line was busy. The next day, he posted an update on his social media. In the photo, he stood beneath the snowy peaks of Wintercrown with one arm around his old love while the other held our son. The caption read: [If we had been a little braver back then...] A friend commented: [Where is your wife?] I stared at his reply: [She's sick and resting at home.] Three expired train tickets sat on the table as my eyes welled up with tears. A decade of marriage. A pack of lies. It was time to bring it all to a close.

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.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

My son, Scott Gould, suddenly tells me that he has leukemia. Then, he goes on to say that his biggest wish is to see Ivanna Newman in a wedding dress. My husband, Theodore Gould, agrees with Scott. "I'll hold a wedding with Ivanna. Once Scott is done with his treatment, we'll get remarried." I gladly agree to the request and divorce Theodore. Not long after, I learn from Scott's social media that he's attending the wedding of Theodore and his childhood sweetheart, Ivanna. The caption he writes says, "I'm so happy for Dad. I can't help but shed tears for true love." I smile and turn off my phone. Holding the hand of the person next to me, I board a plane to Wismuth.

Lorenzo Blackwood called off the mating ceremony. The reason was that I had smiled at another male werewolf at the bonfire party. For the Alpha of the Moonlight Pack, his version of the silent treatment was almost laughably childish. He stopped bringing me with him and deliberately took his assistant Anna Reed's hand instead. He deliberately bid one million dollars on a ruby for Anna at an Imperial auction, then fastened it around her neck himself. He made a point of guiding Anna through hand-to-hand combat drills on the training ground, lingering far too close as he corrected her stance. He made a point of answering every word Anna said with endless patience while ignoring every look I sent him. I had already written the apology letter. "Lorenzo, I was wrong. I swear you're the only one I love. Please don't be mad anymore, okay?" I was on my way to apologize when I heard Anna laughing outside the door of Lorenzo's study. "You gave me the pack's heirloom moonstone pendant just to get under your mate's skin. "I don't mind playing along. Chloe always caves first anyway." I looked at the pendant sitting against her throat. That was the symbol of the Moonlight Pack's Luna. Calmly, I turned and walked away. Then I canceled everything, one item at a time: the ceremony venue, the banquet, and the officiating priest.

I could see everyone’s loyalty score above their head. Anyone whose score fell below 60% would leave. The day Mom cheated, her loyalty score dropped from 71% to 20%. The day my brother ran away from home, his score fell to 13%. So, whenever I fell in love after that, I always knew when to walk away. Then I met Natalie Farr. Her loyalty score for me stayed at 100%. I thought I’d found true love. But she broke her promise on our son’s third birthday. When she came home that night, the score above her head had plummeted from 100% to 88%. I knew it was time to start planning my exit again.

The day high school seniors across Cedarhaven received their college decisions, my own graduation ceremony had just ended. Adrian Hawthorne came to meet me outside the campus with Celeste Monroe, his newly divorced former sister-in-law. He had barely offered me the sunflowers in his hand when Celeste brushed them aside with a laugh. "Sunflowers? You could try harder if you're courting a young woman." Adrian smiled and handed the bouquet to her. "Then you choose. Clara will like whatever you pick." I stood beside them without finding a place in the conversation. Celeste patted his shoulder. "Your tie is crooked. There are too many people here for you to embarrass me." Adrian lowered his head and let her straighten it. After the graduation photographs, he drew Celeste close and told me, "You're good with a camera. Take a few more pictures of us." For three years, every movie meant for two came with a third ticket, and every anniversary dinner had been chosen around another woman's restrictions. I had protested before, but whenever the argument ended, I was always the one Adrian set aside. Then Celeste accidentally left her phone in my purse, and I saw the photograph on her lock screen. Across the image were the words: July 2 - finally free. The same date was engraved beneath Adrian's watch. He called impatiently, "Clara, hurry. Celeste can't wait all day." I stared at the screen for several seconds and deleted the photograph. Everyone online was discussing how to choose the right college, and I finally understood something too. When the first choice is wrong, you withdraw before it is too late. There was no reason to keep a photograph of Adrian and me either.

During a fight with my husband, he shoved me. My stomach bumped into the couch’s armrest. Just then, his childhood friend called him, sobbing. “Caleb, hurry, come to Cloudpeak Hotel and save me! My boss got me drunk, and now he’s forcing me to serve our client…” I nearly blacked out from the twisting pain in my stomach. I begged him to take me to the hospital. However, my husband said, “There’s a life at stake here! Can you not be so cruel?” He left, slamming the door behind him. I had no choice but to call for an ambulance. That night, he spent the night with his childhood friend, while I lay in the operating theater, undergoing emergency surgery. Good news, Caleb Gordon! You'd never have children again! Weren’t you glad? You deserved it!

My wife had called me in the middle of the night with a hint of drunkenness in her voice. She admitted to having too much to drink and asked me to come get her. I hurried to the private club she mentioned, only to find myself having to change into a bathrobe as soon as I got there. Surrounded by a group of wealthy women in their fifties, they playfully flirted and teased me relentlessly. Suddenly, a few of them pounced, pushing me to the ground and demanding I crawl like a dog. Despite the humiliation, my main concern was still my wife's wellbeing. Hours passed before she finally showed up, disheveled, supported by her male assistant, looking at me with a cold smirk. It was then that the truth hit me. This whole situation was a scheme she had orchestrated to please him. My anger rising, I called and spoke through gritted teeth, "Three days. I want every single business under the Spencers wiped out."

On my birthday, the man I'd loved for ten years told me he was finally going to propose. I went to meet him overflowing with happiness. Instead, smoke poured from the room and I heard my mother screaming inside. The fire from three years ago came rushing back all at once. I couldn't breathe. To reach Mom, I clawed my way across those sixteen feet until my hands were torn to shreds, leaving a trail of blood behind me. But when I finally forced my way inside, Mom was laughing with her goddaughter, Delaney Croft. She looked at my pale face with disgust. "Thanks to Delaney's exposure therapy, you're finally becoming desensitized. Aren't you going to thank her?" Delaney turned off the fake alarm sounds on her phone and collapsed into my boyfriend Adrian's arms, laughing. "Evelyn was so cooperative. The blood, the ash, the loss of bladder control... honestly, some of it was disgusting. "Thanks for your support, Linda. I finally have enough footage for my PTSD case study." Adrian steadied her and barely glanced at me. "Delaney did this for your own good. "If you keep avoiding real triggers, you'll never get better. A real-life exposure works faster." The scene in front of me burned my throat raw. I couldn't force out a single complete sentence. "All right, all right. Go clean yourself up. Linda and I are taking Delaney out to celebrate." As the three of them walked away, my legs gave out, and I sank to the floor. Three years ago, I developed PTSD because I ran into a fire to save Adrian. Now the man I loved saw my illness as a burden. Even my own mother was willing to turn my terror into someone else's material. Fine. If my pain was such an inconvenience to them, I would leave their world entirely.

After I moved into a new place with my boyfriend, Simon Zane, getting anywhere felt like a detour. My commute took an hour and twenty minutes, and I was late to work every other day. Our favorite restaurant was two hours away; by the time we arrived, we couldn’t even get in line, so we went home hungry. Visiting my parents meant taking several back roads, and I was too scared to make the trip alone. Whenever I complained, Simon reassured me. "A new place takes some getting used to. Give it time." Then my best friend Wendy Brooks's rental developed a leak, and Simon brought her home without asking me. After a day there, Wendy couldn’t help marveling at the location. "My office is a five-minute walk from here, and several of my favorite places to eat are nearby. Even my hometown’s really close. Everything I need is within a mile and a quarter!" The more she said, the less it sounded like a coincidence. Back in our bedroom, I happened upon the requirements for choosing our new home. The page was crowded with notes: [Wendy Brooks’s office], [Wendy Brooks’s favorite shops]... The home I’d been trying to get used to had never been meant for me. I said nothing and started packing immediately.

At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore. His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot. "Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her." The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy. Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake. Days later, he finally remembers I exist. "As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport." I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer. I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.

I was pregnant and due any day. Austin Revelstone, my husband, had a sugar baby named Tawny Sully. Each time they renewed their arrangement, money came into my mother’s special care account. One day, he stayed a little longer to talk to me. Because of it, he was one minute late for his date with Tawny. Tawny was upset. She threw a tantrum and threatened to terminate their agreement. She would only stay if I aborted my baby. So, Austin slid the abortion form and a check for three million dollars across the table to me. “Please, just sign it. We can always have another kid. If Tawny cries anymore, she’ll get wrinkles.” He looked calm and unbothered. It was as if he were just talking about the weather. I raised my head and looked at him in disbelief. I trembled for a long time. Then, I finally signed my name on the abortion form. I wiped my tears and gave the check back to him. I made one additional request. “Let’s make that fake divorce certificate real this time.” I no longer needed his financial support for my mother’s surgery.

It was the third year of my marriage to Antonio Rizzo, Don of the Rizzo mafia family. He kept a younger woman on the side and had everyone keep it from me. They all said I was his first love, his weakness, the treasure he brought back from Cocily. However, when he got drunk, he laughed and told the family members, "I love Elena, but she's a bit boring in bed. She's just not wild enough. "You all know how it is. Men like a little excitement, like Caterina. She's young, beautiful, and knows how to have fun." The boy who had sworn in church at 17 that he would love me forever now held a young, beautiful blonde in his arms as he coaxed her, "As long as Elena doesn't find out, you can do whatever you want." The day I left, everything seemed normal. No one noticed anything unusual. The maid, Maria Russo, even smiled and asked me, "Signora, are you going shopping?" I smiled lightly and nodded. "No need to prepare dinner tonight." Antonio did not know that the 'boring' Elena he spoke of was the daughter of the Santoro mafia family. The women of the Santoro family never forgave betrayal.

Every time my wife, Jocelyn Seacross, visits her childhood sweetheart, Levi Anderson, who is terminally ill, she hints to me that maybe we should get a divorce. She says it's because Levi's dying wish is to have a proper place in her life. Today, she hints at it again. I don't kick up a fuss and simply say, "Okay." Because this conversation has already happened 99 times. This is the hundredth time this conversation has come up, and I finally find a reason to convince myself to let her go—our child is dead. Now, all that remains between Jocelyn and me are two certified copies of the marriage certificate.

My boyfriend, Ty Hyland, and I both had normal hearing, yet we communicated only in sign language. Our friends all praised Ty for being so kind. They thought he had encouraged me to change the way I communicated because he wanted to master sign language and help people with hearing loss. But they did not know that he did it for only one person. In the beginning, Ty suggested that we practice through complete immersion. We would avoid speaking or texting as much as possible. One day, I messaged him during a downpour and asked him to pick me up. He told me to video-call him and repeat the question in sign language. After I struggled through a few clumsy attempts, he hung up on me. In the end, I walked home in the pouring rain and developed a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit that very night. When I begged him aloud to take me to the hospital, he merely looked at my hands to imply that I should sign it. I was too sick even to lift my arms. He waited for only a few seconds before rolling over and going back to sleep. Eventually, I learned. When an old injury flared up, I broke out in a cold sweat and signed with trembling hands. “My stomach hurts. I need to go to the hospital.” Ty smiled and pinched my cheek. “Not bad. But I’m taking Luna to an exhibition, so you’ll have to bear with it for now.” Luna Winter was a deaf girl he had met while volunteering. A moan escaped me as the pain intensified. He remained unmoved. “I don’t understand. Use sign language.” Tears streamed down my face. He was not trying to teach me sign language. He just did not want to hear my voice. That was fine. I was leaving. After that, even if he wanted to hear my voice, he never would again.

"Anna, are you sure you want to recommend Riley for the Kentran Top-Secret Research Project? It lasts a decade, and you two will be separated for a long time," the person in charge of the project looked at me with shock and doubt in his eyes. Riley and I were known to be the model couple in the company. The story of how he had almost drained all his blood to save me was still something our colleagues talked about here. I looked at the footage from the security camera on my phone, where Riley and Nelly were sleeping together. I nodded resolutely. "Of course. I want the separation." Since Riley had chosen to betray me, he had to pay the price of losing me.

On the night of our wedding, my husband told me he wanted to have a child with his teacher’s daughter. When I confronted him, he turned it back on me. “Teacher is seriously ill, and her only wish is to see three generations under one roof. My junior and I are just doing IVF. It’s not like anything is actually happening between us!” “Besides, you were also her student. How could you refuse to help fulfill her last wish?” However, the next day, when I went to visit our teacher with a fruit basket, I saw my husband and his junior locked in an embrace at the corner of the hallway. The moment was like a bolt of lightning. I turned and walked away. The following day, my husband sent me a text: [I’m going with her for the IVF. Let’s postpone the family gathering for a few days.] I did not reply. Instead, I went back to my hometown alone, visiting each of my relatives to personally apologize. Then, I went to a lawyer. “I’d like to sue my husband for bigamy.”

My husband, Oliver Dawson, "forgot" everything in a car crash—and somehow fell for me all over again. After getting out of the hospital, he said he wanted to date me from scratch. Moved out, made it all romantic. People thought we were couple goals. I figured he just wanted that first-date spark back. Then I overheard him with his best friend. "The amnesia was a lie. I only moved out to take care of Katy. She's pregnant. Cecelia's never wanted kids. I'm not going childless." I glanced down at my barely-there bump and booked a hospital appointment. Then I found the memory-erasing pill Mom left me—and took it. Oliver had no clue I'd forget him in seven days. Completely.

On the 1,001st day, Ruby Anderson still hadn't shown up at the city hall. The staff member tapped on the rejected application form and laughed at me mockingly. "Mr. Scott, this makes a thousand times, You should set a time with Ms. Anderson before coming back. "Stop wasting everyone's time." Everyone knew that Ruby was the richest person in this city. She had very limited time. When she was happy, everyone would respectfully address me as "Mr. Scott". However, when she was upset, I would be treated even worse than her nanny. Everyone would take a dig at me. They seemed to have forgotten that she was the one who proposed to me 99 times with roses. She had told the whole world that I was the only man she wanted to marry. I naively believed that she was always too busy. Until I found 997 used condoms locked inside her safe. Each one was labeled with the time and place, along with the name of her first love. This time, I didn't ask her again when we were going to register our marriage. Instead, I called that number, my voice calm. "Please reserve one application form for the memory-erasure experiment for me."