Cerita Pendek & Novel Tragic Love Cheating

I was just a human with no connection to the vampire world, until I met Adrian, a vampire noble, at an art gallery. We fell in love at first sight. To marry him, I defied my father and cut ties with my family. Everyone envied me for becoming Adrian’s only human wife, showered with love and affection. But after the wedding, I realized that so-called love was just another form of imprisonment. He wouldn’t let me work, wouldn’t let me leave the house, wouldn’t let me attend vampire gatherings. He wanted me to stay obediently in his castle, waiting for him to come home, doing as I was told. And his vampire assistant, Celeste, controlled my every expense under the guise of looking after me. She said that as a human, I was too fragile, too willful, and only ever caused trouble for Adrian. Adrian never once disagreed. Then one night, I stumbled into a vampire hospital, covered in blood. The doctor said the baby could still be saved. But I had no money, and no way to prove I was Mrs. Blackwood. I called Adrian, but the person who answered was Celeste. Through the phone, I heard Adrian’s cold, weary voice. “Don’t bother with her. She’s just putting on an act again.” After I lost the baby, I put the divorce papers in front of him. Adrian thought I was just throwing another tantrum. But what he didn’t know was that the moment I lost our child, there was no chance left for us.

When the earthquake occurs, Kenneth Scott's childhood sweetheart, Gigi Lynch, and I are trapped under the debris at the same time. When I see the rescue equipment that Kenneth has tossed into the debris, I decide to give up on saving myself. So, I let Gigi have the opportunity to get rescued. In my previous lifetime, I successfully got rescued by Kenenth. But Gigi ended up getting crushed to death by the crumbling debris. Needless to say, she died a terrible death. After Gigi died, Kenneth hugged me and cried throughout the night. I thought he was crying tears of relief. That was, until he drugged me and had me delivered to the surgical table. When I woke up, I realized that my face had gone under the knife, making me look exactly like Gigi. I scratched at my face like a lunatic, only for Kenneth to grasp my wrists firmly. "Gigi traded her life to save yours! It's your duty to live this life for her from now on!" But later on, Kenneth was never satisfied with me. He kept criticizing me, saying that my gaze wasn't right, and my voice wasn't the same as Gigi's. All in all, I could never become her. After that, I got pregnant. Kenneth responded by bringing me miscarriage-inducing medication. I sank to my knees and begged Kenneth to spare the baby. In fact, I kept groveling to him till my forehead started bleeding. But Kenneth merely replied icily, "Impostors like you don't have the right to give birth to my child." Then, he gripped me by my chin and forced the bowl of boiling medicine down my throat. I felt as though my throat was being scalded. At the same time, blood kept oozing from my lower region. When my vision went blurry, Kenneth pushed me into a newly-dug pit. "Gigi is too lonely in the afterlife. Why don't you keep her company?" Mounds of dirt kept falling onto me. While I fought for air, I heard Kenneth's cruel laughter drifting from the surface. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the moment I'm about to get rescued.

In the fifth year of my marriage with Lionel Kruger, I suddenly develop an ability to see everyone's ranking system. To my mom, I'm ranked first. To my best friend, I'm ranked second after her daughter. Even the owner of the breakfast cart in the neighborhood views me as his sixth favorite person in his life. Delighted, I rush off to see Lionel's ranking system. His mom ranks first, whereas Natalie Cooper is ranked second. That's me! I'm ranked second! That piece of news makes me smile throughout the day. That is, until I see an unfamiliar name taking up the sixth spot—Lindsay Sloan. I tell myself that it's fine. I'm ranked second, while she's ranked sixth. But the next few days, I witness Lindsey's name climbing slowly up the ranks to the point she's almost reaching my rank. That evening, Lionel comes home and hugs me as usual. "I missed you." As I stare at the ranking system above his head, I notice that Lindsay, who's now ranked third, is slowly climbing upward as he speaks. "Lionel, who's Lindsey Sloan?" At that moment, Lionel freezes up while hugging me.

My tycoon husband was a charmer. But I never worried about it. Not when I still remembered throwing myself in front of a car to save him, losing both my legs in the process. Sebastian Walker had promised he would love me for the rest of his life, even if I could never give him a child of my own. When I was rushed into the hospital after the accident, the doctor said my spine couldn't handle the weight of a pregnancy. If I ever got pregnant, my back would break. So Sebastian made the call himself. He cut back on how often we were intimate, and he even set aside his pride as a man to get a vasectomy. Everyone said I was the one thing that mattered most in Sebastian's life. I believed it too. I thought he was the lifeline heaven had sent down to save me. But now I was staring at the eight-month swell of another woman's belly, laughing until I cried. Sebastian knelt in front of my wheelchair, gripping my hand so hard his own was shaking. "Ruby... someone drugged me, and I took her innocence while I wasn't in control of myself. I'm a man. Let me take responsibility for her, just this once. "Once the baby's born, I'll send her abroad. Everything will go back to how it was between us. "But the baby... I... I really need this child." I looked at the man in front of me, his eyes red-rimmed, and let a tear slide down onto my leg. I sighed. "Fine." Since he wanted a child that badly, I'd let him have his happy little family. But I wasn't sticking around for it.

Lisa Jones had never expected how badly her long-distance relationship would go, when James Sachs loved her more than anyone else. As the chief of a hospital, he was a very busy man, but he had flown abroad countless times and clocking over 10,000 hours in travel for her. They could only meet briefly each time. She still remembered in that early winter, he had held her in the snow, saying that he found it all worth it. She received numerous gifts from him, ranging from thousand-word love letters to million-dollar necklaces bought from auctions. If it were just to make her smile, he would pluck the stars from the sky. That love that seeped into their very essence hadn't changed for three years. It was why Lisa forced herself to fly home through the night. But when she heard James' friends marveling at their love, only for James to quietly deny it, she had to admit that she felt like her heart was crushed with the agony of a thousand cuts.

Before my wife, Camille Lamberg, left the house, she dropped an invitation in the entryway. It was for a sip-and-see party, a celebration to welcome a month-old baby. Since I was heading that way anyway, I figured I'd drop it off for her. But the moment I pushed open the doors to the hotel ballroom, I froze as if I'd been struck by lightning. My wife, the woman who'd sworn she wanted to stay child-free, was holding a chubby, rosy-cheeked baby and making the rounds with a glass raised alongside another man. My in-laws gathered around the three of them, beaming as they posed for a family photo. And the photographer was none other than my best friend since childhood, Jonah Grant. The second he spotted me, he rushed over and blocked me from going into the ballroom. "Adam, calm down! Camille just wants a baby. You can't take away her chance to be a mother just because you can't have kids!" It wasn't until the man turned around that I got a good look at him. The man my wife was cheating on me with was Oliver Weaver, my father's illegitimate son. My wife, my in-laws, and my closest friend had all known the truth, and every one of them had still betrayed me.

At the banquet to welcome her home from her studies abroad, my fiancee, Sienna Vaughn, shows up hand-in-hand with her foreign boyfriend, Jacques Castillo. She announces that she is calling off our engagement. Her parents, Harold Vaughn and Marissa Jenning, beg desperately for me to try to win her back, for the sake of all those years we spent together during our childhood. But this time, I refuse. "Let's end the engagement. From today onward, we'll go our separate ways," I say. … In my previous life, I had taken pity on Harold and Marissa and sincerely tried to keep Sienna by my side. In the end, she agreed to marry me. But three years later, my shares were siphoned away, my company went bankrupt, and I was left with massive debts. Unable to handle the burden, my parents, Ralph Hale and Emily Pierce, passed away. Sienna, nestled in Jacques' arms, spat, "You owe me this!" … Now that I am given a second chance at life, I return to the very day she returned from abroad. This time, she can marry whoever she wants. She thinks that I'm marrying her to save my company from ruin. But little does she know that the one really headed for bankruptcy is her family.

After our engagement, the six of us friends agreed to take one last trip together before the wedding. That night, my friend Anders Greer suggested we play a "24-Hour Couple Swap." Anyone who drew matching symbols had to act like a couple for the next twenty-four hours. Whoever drew a blank card could only take pictures and carry everyone's bags. In the first round, I drew a blank. My fiancee, Brielle Rice, and Anders both drew moons. They held hands while watching the sunrise, while I followed behind carrying three people's bags. In the second round, I drew another blank. They both drew roses. Their penalty was to hug for one minute. Everyone crowded around, cheering them on, while I stood off to the side and kept time. The third round. The fourth... Seven times in a row. Every single time, I was the odd one out. On the final night, they drew matching wedding-dress cards. According to the rules, the two of them had to hold a mock wedding. Anders snatched my engagement ring and slipped it onto her ring finger. All our friends gathered around them, shouting, "Kiss him!" The next second, Brielle actually lifted her face and kissed him. While everyone was celebrating, I opened the boxes that held the cards. Every card in my box was blank. However, Brielle's and Anders's boxes were stuffed with matching moons, roses, and wedding dresses. I smiled and deleted all the digital wedding invitations I'd already prepared. If there had never been room for me on a trip meant for six people, then there was no reason to save a place for any of them for the rest of my life.

To keep anyone from getting suspicious, I can only use disposable things whenever I go to my boyfriend Seth Larson's house. I wear disposable slippers and eat with disposable cutlery. Even when I stay the night, he gives me a one-time-use bedsheet. "If someone happens to see your things, I won't be able to explain it." He always reassures me, saying, "Once we make our relationship public, I'll get you some proper things." For three years, I wait. Yet every time I go to his house, I'm treated like a guest. Then, one day, he throws a birthday party at home for his assistant, Regina Skinner. The moment the door opens, Regina casually pulls a matching pair of designer slippers from the shoe cabinet and slips them on. Seth's friends follow right behind her, each taking a pair and using up all the remaining disposable slippers. That leaves me standing alone at the door. "Just come in barefoot. It's not cold in the summer," Seth says. He doesn't even look up, as if he's inviting a stranger inside. From across the room, I see a full set of dishes already laid out on the dining table, all printed with Regina's favorite cartoon characters. Suddenly, I realize something. Since everything is disposable, now that I've given this love that can never see the light of day a chance, it's time for me to throw it away.

My boyfriend always said he liked independent women. So, whether it was paying for dates, hotel rooms, or even birth control, he insisted we split every expense. He always said, "I hate women who think men should pay for everything. They expect guys to buy them gifts on special occasions and even feed them while they eat. They're adults. Do they really think they're princesses? You're so much better." I told him I only agreed to split the bills because I knew he loved me. Then one day, I saw a message on his computer after he forgot to lock the screen. A female coworker had thanked him. "Thanks for treating me to dinner and even slicing the steak for me. Next time, I'll buy the movie tickets." My boyfriend replied almost instantly. "How could I let a lady pay?" I kept scrolling through their chat history. On a rainy night, he had driven across half the city just to take her home. Whenever she had a nightmare, he would stand outside her apartment building and stay on the phone with her until she fell asleep. That was when I realized the truth. He didn't love independent women. He only loved the convenience that came with an independent woman. Just then, he walked in carrying my cat. "Your cat can't be a freeloader. The expenses should be split three ways between the three of us. Since the cat can't pay, you'll cover his share too. That means you pay two-thirds, and I'll pay one-third. Transfer me 800 dollars."

The night before I was meant to become Luna to my fated mate, Kaelen, I stumbled across a post: "How to steal an Alpha from his fated mate?" The comments blew up. 【You're trying to break up fated mates? They’re chosen by the Moon Goddess herself! That's a sacred bond, a one-in-a-million blessing!】 The comments were full of outrage, but a user named “Baby Wolf” proudly replied: 【If you’re bold enough and know how to play your cards right, even a bond from the Goddess is just a pretty little lie. My Alpha says his fated mate calms him, but in bed, I'm the one he can't get enough of. He says that woman's a dead fish. He was over her ages ago, lol.】 For some reason, my heart clenched. My mind flashed to Kaelen holding me, his voice a low rumble in my ear, "Baby, your scent is the only thing that soothes my wolf." I told myself it was just a coincidence. Until I saw her next post: "Vacation in the Rockies last month. We ran into some rogues and he got his arm shredded protecting me. My hero. " The scarred arm in her picture… I knew it instantly. I knew every single mark. Kaelen had told me he got it breaking up a pack fight. I'd cried my eyes out for him. So my perfect mate was nothing but a low-down, cheating liar. I wiped my tears, my grief turning to ice, and called his mother—the one woman who'd fought our bond from the start. "Kaelen betrayed me. I'm leaving him."

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.

When my mother falls gravely ill, my husband, who has asthenospermia, promises to help me think of something. So, I give him all my savings. Despite being pregnant, I get a part-time job doing DoorDash deliveries. However, I see my husband when I pass by a realtor's office. He's supposed to be hard at work like me, but he's buying a place for his childhood friend. He even has his arm around her. "That old hag thinks I only earn that little each month. Don't worry, Yvette. I only give her 10% of what I earn. The rest goes to you!" I hold back my tears and grab the hem of his shirt, wanting to borrow some money for my mother's treatment. However, he shoves me away irritably. "I give you 2000 dollars a month! Isn't that enough? Have you spent it all on useless things?" He leaves without another look back, ignoring my cries and pleas. He also kicks me, effectively murdering the child he's always dreamed of having. Later, he grovels at my feet and begs for forgiveness. It's too bad I've already given up on him. I don't want him anymore.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

My mate Derek, Alpha of the SilverCrest Pack, secretly marked me two years ago. But he still hasn't held our mating ceremony to publicly announce my position. I've been working as his "assistant," helping him manage pack affairs all this time. Every time Derek cheats with his childhood sweetheart, Vivian, he promises to finally hold our mating ceremony. Two years. Ten promised ceremonies. Ten broken promises. The first time, he said Vivian's dog had died. "I can't hold a celebration while she's grieving," he told me, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "It wouldn't be right." The second time, Vivian had a stomach ache. He left the ceremony venue minutes before it was supposed to start, rushing off to cook soup for his precious childhood friend. After that, each scheduled mating ceremony fell through because his childhood sweetheart always had some kind of emergency. I've cried. I've screamed. I've begged. Derek always gives me the same answer: "Viv and I are just friends. You're my true mate. Taking care of pack members is your responsibility too. Don't be so jealous." After the tenth canceled ceremony, I finally gave up. I slid the mate bond dissolution papers across his desk. "The Alpha Council has approved our request to break the mate bond," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "You and I are no longer connected." That’s when the powerful Alpha went crazy...

Since my bone cancer is already terminal, my doctor asks me if I wish to receive an amputation. My breath is lodged in my throat. After hesitating for a few moments, I end up texting my husband, Jordan Parker. "If I undergo the amputation surgery, I'll get to live for another year. Do you want me to take up the surgery?" One minute before I'm scheduled to undergo the surgery, my phone finally buzzes. "Best wishes." It's the same response as the one I've been receiving for every message I've sent him over the past three years. Of course, Jordan has responded by transferring me money and a note that says "best wishes". I put down my phone quietly. Ever since I've borrowed 500 thousand dollars from him on our wedding night, Jordan has already determined that I'm a gold digger, just like what his friends have been saying about me. That's why Jordan transfers me money when I go through a miscarriage. When I beg him to attend my dad's funeral, he gives me money as well. Half a year ago, I'm diagnosed with bone cancer. The thought about having to live my life with tubes inserted into various parts of my body while lying on my sick bed and waiting for Death to grace me with its presence in the near future triggers a mental breakdown immediately. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I send 97 long audio messages to Jordan. In return, I've received 97 money transfers. Now, I'm about to get amputated just so I can extend my life span, and here Jordan is, fusing beads with his childhood sweetheart, Camille Laurent. As I stare at Camille's romantic social media post and the barrage of comments that wish her and Jordan well, I pluck out the needle with a bitter smile on my face. There is once when Jordan has told me in a tone filled with hatred and resentment that his biggest regret is his decision to call off his engagement with Camille over a gold digger like me. Well, I hope that this time, he won't have any regrets anymore.

On June nineteenth—the day my boyfriend and I had planned to get our marriage license—he vanished without a word. It wasn't until that night that I stumbled across a post on his social media. He'd forgotten to block me from seeing it. "From twenty to twenty-eight, our youth: signed, sealed, delivered." The photo attached showed two marriage certificates. In the wedding picture beside it, a girl I didn't recognize leaned into his shoulder, beaming. Furious, I opened the comments to demand an explanation, and found my best friend's message waiting there instead. [Congratulations to the old flames who finally found their way back to each other!] My chest went tight. My hands shook as I called her. After a long silence, she finally told me the truth. "Yeah. They've been together for eight years. Everyone already knew. We didn't hide it to hurt you. We were just scared you'd make a scene. "Alice and Chase were always the better match. It wasn't easy for them to get to where they are today. Why make things hard on another woman? Just be the bigger person." The tears that fell were cold as ice, but where they landed, they burned straight through me. Twelve years together, and for eight of them, Chase Peterson had loved someone else. Everyone had known. They'd just all agreed to keep it from me.

My boyfriend's mother had Alzheimer’s. She constantly mistook my best friend for her son's girlfriend. I lost count of how many times I tried to explain that I was his actual girlfriend, but within minutes, she would forget everything, grab my best friend’s hand, and call her a family. Out of sheer helplessness, my boyfriend had no choice but to tell my best friend to pretend to be his girlfriend. She comforted me at the time, saying, “Don’t worry, it’s all just an act.” My boyfriend promised me as well, saying, “As soon as my mother’s condition stabilizes, we’ll get engaged.” I ended up waiting three long years. During the first Christmas, my best friend stood in my spot for the family portrait, smiling with her arm wrapped around my boyfriend's. During Thanksgiving the following year, my boyfriend's family went for a holiday overseas, and my best friend went along as his fiancée. I could only watch through a screen as they showed off their picture-perfect romance to the world. It wasn’t until this year’s New Year’s Eve family gathering that my boyfriend claimed his mother’s condition was finally improving. He told me he was taking me home so we could finally announce our engagement. Sitting at the dinner table, I was hopeful; I prayed that his mother would remember who I was. Instead, she took my best friend’s hand, smiled, and pressed, “When are you two getting married? I’ve been waiting for this day forever.” My best friend flushed, playing timid and not daring to answer. My boyfriend hesitated for only a single second before announcing in front of everyone, “We’ve booked the venue. We’ll have the wedding right after this trip.” A chill ran down my spine. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from him. [Just play along with us one last time. Once this is over, I swear I’ll marry you.] I stared at the message for a long moment, then typed back. [Okay.] Then, I canceled the order for my custom wedding ring and forwarded my resignation letter to HR. Today was the last chance I was ever going to give him. Since he chose to play his part and marry someone else, it was time for me to exit this play as well.

When Jonathan Shaw brings his seventh pregnant mistress to me for the delivery, his friends start taking bets on how long it'll take before I break down. But even after the baby's cries echo through the delivery room, they never hear me lose control. "Come on, this is the seventh one. Are you sure she isn't done with you this time?" Jonathan shrugs. "She can't have children, and I've got a family legacy to carry on. I'll end up having kids with other women so they can inherit the family business either way. I might as well have a few now and let her get used to it." As soon as he finishes speaking, I walk out carrying the newborn. Following standard procedure, I announce, "Congratulations. He weighs seven pounds, six ounces. Both the mother and the baby are doing well." Jonathan smiles as he takes the baby from my arms. Then, he hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it," he orders. "It's just an act to humor her. She refuses to have our second child unless I divorce you first. Once the second baby's born, we'll have eight kids." I've gone along with his little charade seven times already. This time, I sign my name without hesitation. Jonathan seems to have forgotten one thing. It's not that I can't have children. We're just genetically incompatible. If I want a child, I just have to find a different man. Why would I spend the rest of my life raising someone else's children just to stay married to him?

Everyone in Sparrowville said that Margaret Chapman was the happiest woman in town. Gavin Hartley showered her with gifts—a sapphire ring, an asteroid after her name—treating her like she was the center of his universe. Margaret had always believed it, too. Until the day she accidentally discovered the woman he had been hiding in his villa. For ten years, he had kept her there—his childhood sweetheart. After she lost herself to schizophrenia, she had said, "Margaret is me." And so, for nearly seven years, Gavin had courted Margaret and cherished her, playing out a love story that had never truly been hers. Margaret's heart crumbled to ash after she found out the truth. She left without looking back, moving to a country thousands of miles away. But she never imagined that Gavin would lose himself to rage, his eyes burning red as he nearly tore Sparrowville apart. "Where the hell is Margaret?!"