Plot Twists Short Stories & Childhood Sweethearts Cheating Novels

My Alpha mate, Dominic, rules the entire Stormfang Pack, but in our ten years together, he has never once given me a gift. Even our bonding tokens—a pair of rare healing crystals that cost me an entire year's savings—were taken by him without hesitation. He claimed that as Alpha he needed to appear frugal and understated, which is why he marked me in secret without hosting a proper mating ceremony. Because of this, most pack members don't even know I'm his mate. Yet when Sylvia, his childhood sweetheart, returned to Stormfang territory, he publicly announced their mating plans. He even dipped into the pack's long-term savings to throw her an extravagant celebration. When my mother was attacked by rogue wolves and left critically wounded, I begged Dominic to return my healing crystals—the only things that could save her life. Instead of helping, he denied knowing me in front of the entire pack and ordered his guards to drive me away with burning torches. Later, my mother died during the Blood Moon Festival. I lost my only family during what should have been our most sacred celebration. I renounced my Stormfang membership that same night and accepted the Northern Shadow Pack's Chief Healer position. While packing my belongings, Dominic returned from his honeymoon with Sylvia. He found me and assumed I was merely sulking. For the first time ever, he made a generous offer: "Come on, what could possibly happen to your mother? At worst, I'll give you that fancy mating ceremony you've always wanted. That should satisfy her desire to be an Alpha's mother-in-law." What he didn't realize was that from the moment my mother died, I had already sworn to the Moon Goddess that our mate bond would be broken forever.

In those eight terrifying seconds when the plane dropped into darkness, my first thought was how devastated Lucas would be if I never made it to the airport. However, after surviving and landing safely, what greeted me instead…was a photo he shared with his childhood sweetheart, the two of them smiling on a hike. The caption read: [Here's to still being wild with you at sixty.] If it had been before, I probably would have blown up his phone, demanding an explanation and picking a fight. However, then, after brushing so close to death, I just felt… tired.. So I typed out a message: [Let's get a divorce.]

My boyfriend, Drew Myers, has proposed to me 99 times. Meanwhile, his childhood sweetheart, Tammy Fowler, has relapsed into depression 99 times. When Drew makes his 100th proposal, Tammy's depression strikes once more. As usual, he picks up Tammy's call, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a tired sigh, he turns to me and says, "She's having another breakdown. We'll have to put the proposal on hold this time." Despite it being my birthday, Drew starts clearing away the freshly served dishes as if it were any other day. Fearing I might complain, he shoots me a cold, disapproving glance. "I know you're jealous of Tammy, but she's the one who's struggling. You're a soldier. You should be the bigger person and give her some leeway." Not only does Drew want me to eat Tammy's scraps, but he also orders me to bring them climbing gear at midnight. When Tammy shares intimate photos of them hugging online, his only reaction is to lash out at me. "Do you honestly find satisfaction in pushing Tammy to another breakdown? Is this the honor of a soldier? Your cruelty sickens me!" Over and over, he tears down my character and mocks my integrity. But this time, I simply look down at the special forces recruitment letter in my hand and say nothing. Drew remains oblivious. At last, I'm the one who's letting go.

After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me. However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Furthermore, due to Isabella's baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium. While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life. By the time he remembers to bring me home, I'm already a broken soul. Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. "Sadie, look! It's me, Noah!" With a sneer, I ask, "Who's Sadie?"

Clive Hawkins, who had been giving me the cold shoulder, posted on X. [First 100 likes get a breakup cash giveaway.] In no time, it had 99 likes and reposts. I knew he was waiting for me to give in, just like how I begged him to delete it during the ten times we fought before. But this time, I reposted it myself and wrote, [Count me in.] Then, I blocked him on every platform. Three days later, his sister messaged me. [Clive saved you a front row seat. Stop hiding and come back. As long as you show up, he's willing to forgive you.] I glanced at the plane ticket on my desk and replied. [I'm busy.] I really was busy. I’d been admitted to graduate school at Redstone University, and my flight was leaving that night for orientation. From then on, we would be separated by thousands of miles, never to see each other again.

After being reborn, I stopped preventing Rachel Jackson from having any contact with her childhood sweetheart, Logan Cole. She gave Logan all her salary to pursue his dream, while I used the money I earned through hard work to invest. She got pregnant and gave birth to a child for Logan in the hospital, so I bought a train ticket to leave the small town. Later, she said she would agree to marry me as long as I agreed to adopt Logan's child. Unfortunately, I had already made my first million dollars by relying on the memories of my previous life. In this life, I chose to fulfill their wishes and enjoy a good life myself.

The day my husband, Lucas Maxwell, helps his childhood sweetheart—Cecilia Brown, who has cancer—lose her virginity, I leave behind a divorce agreement and walk away. Before I leave, I drop a comment beneath a photo of them on his social media. Their fingers are tightly interlocked in the photo. "Let's get divorced. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness." A minute later, he calls me. "How did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you, Fiona Sinclair? Do you really have the heart to let her die without leaving anything behind?" I sneer, "You're no longer my husband. How is that my problem?" That's when he panics.

During a game of truth or dare at our pre-wedding party, my fiancee, Marissa Jones, plays a game of truth-or-dare with her childhood friend, William Chase. The one who chooses dare is required to sleep with the person next to them. Alarmed by the dare, I quickly suggest, "Why don't you choose truth instead?" However, William refuses to let that happen. He eyes me scornfully and says, "I can't believe you still have such an old-fashioned mindset. I don't mind sleeping with her, so why are you making a big deal out of it?" He turns to Marissa and asks, "Will you sleep with me, Rissa?" Everyone else in the room starts egging them on. "Kyle is way too uptight. If Marissa won't do it, I will. Pick me, William, you handsome devil!" I grab Marissa's arm and try to leave with her, but she flings my hand off. "If I leave now, what about William? We're about to get married anyway, Kyle. Can't I have one night of freedom?" She climbs right onto William's lap, and the crowd cheers wildly. As I stare at Marissa and William, I know without a doubt that my relationship with Marissa has come to an end.

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

My company hosts an appreciation gala to thank long-time clients. I go to the company's cold storage to retrieve the batch of wine just flown in from overseas when a stream of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "That was close! She almost caught Daisy covered in red wine and looking all seductive. Good thing Tristan reacted fast and hid her in the freezer." "Can Scarlett just leave already? Look how cold Daisy and Tristan are. They are shivering. What if they catch a cold?" I pause mid-step, my gaze landing on the freezer behind me. Red wine is dripping out, and a piece of fabric is caught in the door. On it, I see the motif I personally sew onto my fiancé's clothes. Just then, the comments appear again. "Tristan plays it cool, claiming he is all about platonic love and staying chaste for Daisy. What a touching romance!" I smirked coldly. The platonic act is fake. The truth is he's cheating on me. Without a word, I turn around and toss the clothes they leave on the floor into the trash. Then, I lock the cold storage door and call the boss, who is in the middle of giving a speech. I exclaim over the phone, "A thief broke into the company! I locked them in the cold storage. Please bring some men and come over quickly!"

The moment we witness the last surviving child in the safehouse getting pinned to the wall by a zombie before having his guts torn out, all the men in the team break down mentally. "Captain, didn't you claim that Selene kept rambling nonsense because she had gone crazy out of fright toward the zombies? Isn't that why you reassured us to keep watch while you and Madeline watched the sunrise on the summit? "Why is it that my newborn has already gotten devoured by a zombie as soon as I return to the safehouse?" Quinton Morwood goes deathly pale at the accusation. My heart feels as though it's gotten torn into pieces as I stare at the tragedy. In my previous life, when the zombies attacked the safehouse, Quinton, who was the captain of the defence team, had taken the entire team with him just so he could watch the sunrise with Madeline Moore at the mountain summit. I did everything I could to summon everyone back to the base. That was how everyone's lives were spared from the zombie attack. But Madeline was pissed that she did't get to watch the sunrise, so she left the safezone angrily on her own. That was how she got grabbed by a zombie and eaten by a horde. By the time Quinton and his squad killed the entire horde, he just hugged Madeline's femur to his chest without saying a single word. On the day I gave birth to my baby, Quinton hacked my limbs off before throwing me into the roaming hordes of zombies. I could only watch as the zombies tore my flesh off my bones before Quinton saved me again by healing me. The cycle kept going on and on until I witnessed the last piece of flesh being torn off my body. "You're the one who killed Madeline, you wretched woman! Since you like competing with her that much, I'll make sure you'll die a worse death than hers!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the zombies are attacking the safezone.

At the wedding, Victoria Langley's childhood friend, Spencer Calloway, catches the wedding bouquet that she's just tossed. He arches a brow at her. "Does this mean I'll have to propose to someone? Well then, Vic, are you willing to elope with me?" Victoria's bridesmaids begin cheering on him. Amid their loud cheers and giggles, they push Victoria into Spencer's arms. "Give us a kiss!" "What's with that shy look, Spencer? Didn't you bury your face into Victoria's chest and hold her while sleeping on the same bed at the bachelorette's party last night?" Victoria giggles as she pinches one of the bridesmaids. "What's with the ruckus? My husband is still here, you know!" But the tips of her ears have secretly gone red. Spencer's lips curl into a wicked smile as he shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm fine with it. It's just that a certain someone's mooch of a husband will be pissed." Only then does Victoria turn to look at me. She pinches me on the chin gently while saying to me casually, "C'mon, it's just a joke. Don't be so petty." Then, she declares, "Let's continue the wedding." But I wave Victoria's hand away coolly before taking the microphone from the wedding host. "Spencer wants to crash this wedding, right? Well, I'm taking everything seriously now." Three days later, Victoria's eyes become red-rimmed as she stands outside the courthouse. As for me, I've never looked back ever since.

My wife, Izzy Sockman, had been out entertaining clients with her childhood friend and best friend, who were both men. At two in the morning, she called me and asked me to pick her up because she claimed she had sharp pains in her stomach. The call made me anxious, and I rushed over with warm soup. When I arrived, I saw her lying in her best friend’s arms while he fed her wine from his mouth. Her childhood friend, Carter Enders, held her by the waist and looked at me with a taunting expression. “You came right away after taking the call. How obedient. You are right on time because Izzy is not done with her dare. Get over here and kneel while you pour us wine, and we will consider it a win for Izzy.” I thought Izzy would object, yet she only clung to Carter and pointed at the wine glass on the table. She ordered me around like a dog. “Didn’t you hear what he said? Hurry up and pour us a drink. Carter and Eugene are my kings today, and I have to do whatever they want. You are not allowed to leave until you pour us that drink.” Izzy had enjoyed her life as Capital City’s top CEO because I had invested billions into her company. She never cared about that. She only cared about acting like a lapdog for other men. Since she enjoyed degrading herself that way, I should take away her position as CEO.

After an extreme dust storm swallowed half the mall, I was searching for my missing daughter when I received a call from Evelyn Mercer five years in the future. [Ryan, you have to do exactly what I say. I'm the only one who can save my little girl.] Without hesitating, I led the rescue team to the collapsed section she named. Sure enough, I heard a weak child's voice. I shouted in relief, "Thank God for you, Evelyn! I found her!" Evelyn laughed softly. [That's right. I came back to fix a regret.] But when the rescue crew lifted the concrete slab, the child they pulled out was not my daughter. It was the daughter of Evelyn's childhood sweetheart, Marcus Hale. I froze. Evelyn, however, sounded relieved. [Five years ago, Marcus lost his daughter and nearly broke. After that, he only had me. That night, we ended up together.] [I'm sorry, Ryan. I came back to fix Marcus's regret.] [Our daughter is buried on the other side of the mall. Hurry. Go save her.] When I rushed back, Evelyn's future voice was smug. [Well? Was she there?] I looked at my daughter's body, already cold and breathless. Then I clenched my fist and hung up.

I'd upset my fiancé again, the men I'd grown up beside. All because I wanted to borrow thirty million from him to buy back a ruby brooch. Adrian was heir to the Vampire Prince. To him, the money was nothing. But in front of every servant in the house, his face went cold. "Elena. Don't be greedy." Disdain filled his eyes. "Yes, your mother died saving me fifteen years ago, yet I agreed to marry you." "You're only human. Don't presume on that." My throat closed. I'd been about to explain that the brooch was the only thing I had left of my mother. But Adrian had already looked away, impatient. "Whatever it is, it can wait until I'm back. Stop making a scene." I ran my thumb over the few thin bills in my pocket and lowered my head. A whole year of quiet work for the manor's servants, and that was all I'd saved. I was still wiping my eyes when I got back to my room, and my father called again. "Elena, have you decided? This is for your own good. No matter how long you wait, young Master Adrian will never marry you." "Why don’t you take your stepsister's place. Marry into the North instead. You'll have an easier life." This time, I didn't argue. "Fine. I'll do it." "But I want thirty million in return."

The day I found out that my pilot husband, George, had given our wedding band to his widowed childhood sweetheart as a talisman, I changed his contact name to Captain Tanner. When I was suffering from a severe stomach bleed, George got a call from Tammy, saying that her son had woken up from his sleep, missing his late father. Without another word, George walked out on me. He promised to be there for my follow-up appointment, but he was quick to change his flight for Tammy because she was afraid of the thunderstorm while at the airport. I snapped a photo of my medical evaluation and texted, “Have a safe flight, Captain Tanner.” It was the same old reply. “Quit acting up. Tammy and her son have had it tough enough.” Later, he booked our favorite restaurant to slip the ring back onto my finger in celebration of our seventh wedding anniversary. Before we could get inside the establishment, the call from Tammy came in. “George, I’m scared. Can you pick me up? Liam said that you’re the only father he’s got…” George took one look at me and opened his mouth to explain. I handed the ring box to the server. “Please dispose of this for me.” I then turned to him. “Captain Tanner, your passengers are waiting.”

On the day Naomi Alder rose from the ashes, she secretly brought her childhood sweetheart—the one who had abandoned her years ago—into the company behind my back. When I found out, she swore in front of me, "I only want to punish him. I don't have even the slightest feelings for him." I did not lose control. Instead, I made him Naomi's assistant. Tristan Sawyer assured me with absolute certainty, "Don't worry. Between her and me, it will only ever be a superior-subordinate relationship. I would never come between you." I believed him. After all, back when Alder Co. went bankrupt, Tristan had humiliated Naomi in every possible way just to break free from her. It was not until the car accident, when Naomi threw herself forward without hesitation to protect him, that I finally understood. All these years, she had never let him go. When Naomi woke up in the hospital, she had lost her memory. Looking at Tristan and me standing by her bedside, she asked, "Who are you?" This time, I pointed at Tristan and spoke first. "Ms. Alder, this is your husband. I'm your assistant."

I'm burning with a 104-degree fever in the middle of the night. I groggily reach out, wanting my boyfriend, Joshua Sanders, to get me a glass of water, only to feel cold sheets. I unlock my phone out of sheer habit, and the first thing I see is Joshua's message, pinned at the top of the list, sent three hours ago. "Lynnie just had her heart broken, so I'm going to keep her company. I left the antipyretics on the nightstand. Remember to take it when you wake up." I force my weak body out of bed, pour myself a glass of water, and take the medicine. However, the words on the box clearly read, "Menstrual pain relief." To make matters worse, it's the brand his childhood sweetheart, Lynn Nelson, always takes. I calmly set the medicine back in its original place and take a cab to the hospital on my own. It's time for this five-year high fever called "love" to finally break.

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.