Contos e Romances com Childhood Sweethearts e Cheating

"Ms. Longstaff, are you saying the wedding will proceed as planned, but the bride will be replaced with someone else? Is that correct?" Faced with the staff member's puzzled expression, Heather Longstaff nodded without hesitation. "Yes, the wedding will take place in two weeks as scheduled. I'll deliver the revised materials to you in the next few days." "Understood. Should I inform Mr. Bennett about—" "There's no need!" Heather cut the other person off, her voice sharp with emotion. Noticing the startled look on the staff member's face, she quickly composed herself and explained, "He's busy. All wedding-related matters should come directly to me from now on." This wedding was meant to be her final gift to Mitchell. And like any gift, it had to remain a surprise until the very last moment.

My fiance called me to post bail after he was arrested. When I arrived, however, I was informed that he was caught in a compromising position. "I came to protect Lily because I was worried for her safety," my fiance retorted, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But her boyfriend didn't believe me. Or is it the same for you too? Go post bail already." Nonetheless, I spied the lacy underwear poking out ever so slightly over his belt. In the past, I would have made a scene as I demanded an explanation. But now, I was as cool as a cucumber. When the cops asked what our relationship was, I paused in thought for a moment, before saying quietly, "His employer." Once I signed the papers, I texted my brother: [I'll go on that blind date. Schedule it for three days later.]

On the day Andrew Zelenski confesses his feelings to the pretty transfer student, everyone thinks I'll break down. They expect me to come running while crying and trying to stop him. I don't show up even after he confesses, though. Andrew has no idea that while he's busy confessing, I'm wearing his roommate's hoodie and sitting on his roommate's bed. I look at his roommate innocently and ask, "How are we going to sleep tonight now that I've wet your bed?" Spencer Lithgow looks away from me as his Adam's apple bobs. He throws a towel at me. "Go dry your hair. You can sleep once I've changed the sheets."

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."

"Are you sure you want to change the bride's name to Jasmine Shaw, Quinn?" Quinn Sullivan's voice was resolute. "Yes, I'm sure. Do as I say." She sat in silence for a long time after hanging up. She recalled what she saw after her engagement party. Her fiancé had his arms wrapped around another woman in a swaying car. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, looking like he couldn't bear to leave. Quinn didn't understand. She and Nicholas York had gone through so much to get to marriage. How could he cheat on her? Well, it didn't matter. She was willing to give him her blessings since he was in love with another woman. He could marry someone else, then. She would give him the wedding of his dreams.

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.

When my four sons were finally old enough for preschool, I arrived at the school office with my marriage certificate and their birth certificates, ready to sign them up. But the lady at the counter frowned and said, "These documents don't check out. According to the system, your kids don't even exist." I felt as if the floor had dropped out from under me. I remembered when Sheldon Clem and I got married—he was the one who handled all the paperwork, the birth registrations, everything. I never imagined that when I tracked him down with our four boys, he'd be holding his childhood sweetheart in his arms, with her little girl snuggled against him. And then we heard him sweet-talking her right in front of us. "Don't be mad, babe. I've got everything set up for us overseas. Gigi is going to the most expensive private school, and you'll be living in the nicest penthouse downtown. "Sure, she gave me four sons, but all my love and money are with you. I only kept her around because I felt sorry for her. "What else do you need? My will's already signed. Everything goes to you and Gigi." Riley Anderson pouted, smug and satisfied. "If you don't love her, then she's the other woman, not me. She's got no right to fight me for anything!" So he never went bankrupt. When we got back home, Sheldon acted as if nothing had happened. "Honey, I've found this amazing project overseas, so I won't have time to come home much. I'll need you to hold down the fort at home." I smiled and nodded. "Sure, go ahead." If that was how he wanted to play this, then fine. I'd make sure he really went broke, and then I'd find my boys a new father.

"Mr. Dawson, about that farmhouse construction project in Hattensburg… I've decided that I'm willing to go there." Gary Dawson, on the other end of the line, sounds fairly surprised. "I've been asking you to go there for ages, yet you refused every time because you said you wanted to be with your boyfriend, Timothy. Why the sudden change of mind?" Madeline Carlton lowers her reddened eyes and pretends to chuckle nonchalantly. "I guess I hit one too many walls and just decided to come to my senses afterward." Hearing this, Gary sighs and says sternly, "This is a highly classified mission. You will be assuming a whole new identity when you start working on this project. Before the mission ends, you will not be allowed to have any contact with the rest of the world. "Madeline, are you sure that you've thought things through?" "Yes. I just want to escape this place as soon as I can." There is a long silence on the phone. However, Gary answers right after the pause. "Alright. I'll send the classified contract to you in a while. It should take about a month for the paperwork to be finalized. Use that opportunity to say goodbye to your friends and family." The call disconnects. An email pops up in Madeline's inbox. Right after reading through the classified contract, she signed her name with a flourish and submitted the file with a click. At the same time, Bloomberg Group's new product launch plays on the television. Timothy Bloomberg, wearing a tailored white suit, slowly leads Lacey Houston up the catwalk stage.

My fiance, Dante de Rossi, is the heir to a mafia family in Manhorne, and he loves me dearly. Yet, a month before our wedding, he says his family has arranged for him to have a baby with his childhood friend, Isobel de Luca. Despite my refusal to agree to it, he brings it up daily and tries to push me into it. Half a month before the wedding, I receive a pregnancy report. I find out that Isobel is over a month pregnant. I have yet to give Dante my permission. This is when I realize just how fragile our years-long relationship is. I cancel the wedding and destroy everything he has ever given me. On the day of the wedding, I set off for Etolia to further my medical career. I accept a role with an international medical organization, severing all ties with the mafia. From that moment onward, he and I no longer have anything to do with each other!

The night before our engagement party, my fiancé's childhood sweetheart, Sabrina Payton, told me she had a special bridal surprise planned for me. She lured me into the glass conservatory on the hotel rooftop, locked the doors from the outside, and turned on every sprinkler. It was December, and a storm was raging outside. Freezing water poured down on me while I stood trapped inside a room made entirely of glass. The guests held up their phones downstairs, filming as I stood there soaked and shivering. She smiled at me, looking sweet and innocent despite the cruelty shining in her eyes. "Doesn't Melanie love acting like she's above everyone else? Let's see what she looks like when she's freezing and begging for mercy." On the other hand, my fiancé, Jay Harrison, stood downstairs and watched me through the pouring rain. He said in a cold voice, "Just make sure she doesn't die. Someone from a background like hers needs to learn the hard way that marrying into the Harrison family isn't that easy." Later, I smashed through the glass and made my way down from the rooftop. After that, I wiped the blood from my face and called my attorney. "Notify the board. Pull our investment from Harrison Group, freeze their accounts, and stop every payment scheduled to go out for Harrison Group's projects tomorrow morning. "Also, send tonight's footage to the police. Unlawful imprisonment, assault, invasion of privacy—I don't want a single charge overlooked. I want them hit with every charge that fits their crime."

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.]

The most spineless heiress and the most arrogant heiress in Jindale happen to come from the same family. When my half-sister, Sienna Thomson, holds my head over a toilet bowl, the fleeing wealthy heir, Daniel Lowe, shoots clean through both of her hands. "She is the future mistress of Jindale! No one touches her!" Spiteful to her core, Sienna doubles down on tormenting me while sabotaging Daniel at every turn on his path to power. Daniel fights tooth and nail for ten years. On the very day he finally claims the throne of the Lowe family, he books a luxury suite to propose to me. Yet when I push open the door, I find him naked in bed with Sienna. Everyone gasps in shock. After all, it's no secret that Sienna is our common enemy. Sienna sneers, brazenly flaunting the red marks all over her body. "Daniel, don't tell me you mistook me for Charlotte again. You're as sharp as a tack tonight. You handed that Eastia project to me on a silver platter, didn't you? How long are you going to keep fooling yourself? You like a powerful woman. You can't stand a weakling like Charlotte." A faint smile stays fixed on Daniel's face, yet he doesn't deny it. Amidst collective gasps, he casually picks up the ring and tries to slide it onto my finger. But I hold back my hand. I just ask, "You once told me that the moment you were in charge, I could do whatever I wanted with Jindale. Does that still stand?" He freezes, assuming I will yield as I always have over the last decade, and nods with a smile. "Of course." I smile too.

The year I lose my eyesight, I happen to stumble upon Wendy Peck, who's just moments away from freezing to death. I beg my mom to save her, telling her I want a companion to guide me. Leaning toward Wendy, I whisper a promise in her ear. "I don't need you to be my guide. Just focus on staying alive. And you can go wherever you want." But after my mom remarries, Wendy stays and becomes the only person I have left to rely on. She watches over me as I grow up, acting as my white cane year after year. She even goes so far as to walk away from her dream and incredible talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my eyes. But even though she has become one of the best eye doctors in the world, I still can't see a thing. Then, on my 25th birthday, Wendy's former closest friend, Abel Petersen, wins a prestigious art award. Wendy locks herself in the study, and all I hear is the rustling of paper. Keeping her emotions in check, she tells me she's writing me a birthday wish. Just as I happily step forward to kiss her, lines of comments suddenly sweep across my pitch-black vision. "Wake up, you blind idiot. She just tore all her paintings to shreds, and on the back of every single one, she wrote, 'Drop dead, James Glover.'" "Don't take another step forward! She left a live wire in front of you. If you step on it, you're a goner!" I freeze in my tracks. Then, with a smile, I continue to stride toward her. "Wendy, all your wishes will definitely come true."

On the day of our wedding, I went to my fiancée's house to bring her to the venue—only to find her at her ex-boyfriend's wedding. When I confronted her, she didn't even blink. "Having a wedding with me is Keith's obsession. It's just a sham. I'm only putting on a dress to go through the motions with him. We're doing the ceremony. It's not like we're actually going to sleep together. What are you so worked up about?" I didn't argue with her anymore. I chose to respect her decision. So I called the childhood friend who had secretly loved me for years. "I'm ready to marry you now." But when she saw me marrying that childhood friend, she completely lost it—like a woman possessed. She insisted on marrying me instead, demanding to know why I had chosen someone else.

My wife's childhood guy best friend came back to the country. He raised a toast to me, thanking me for taking care of her. I turned him down, but my wife blamed me for embarrassing him. To punish me, she stopped our daughter's treatment and demanded I kneel and apologize to her childhood friend. That night, our daughter's condition got worse. I held her as her body kept twitching, calling my wife over and over. But I could never get through. In my arms, our daughter's body grew colder. Meanwhile, her childhood friend posted a picture of them looking cozy on his social media. "Even the northern lights can't outshine you by my side."

Ten years after I accidentally swapped souls with another man, the Lord of the Underworld finally discovered the mistake. It would take seven days to switch us back. During those seven days, I decided to be an understanding husband. So when Cecelia Marquand told her childhood sweetheart, Harold Lowther, bedtime stories to lull him to sleep, I no longer felt even a flicker of jealousy. When she pretended to be his girlfriend and accompanied him home to meet his parents, I no longer made a scene. At first, Cecelia was thrilled. "Wesley, wouldn't it have been nice if you'd been this understanding from the start? Everyone would have been happier." But gradually, her delight turned to frustration. "I'm sleeping next to another man, Wesley. Doesn't that make you angry at all?" I merely chuckled. What was there to be angry about? Soon enough, this body's rightful soul would return, and I would no longer be Wesley Snyder. And Cecelia would no longer be my wife.

For 20 years, I've used the fact that Nigel Jackman and I grew up together as an excuse to stay glued to his side. Everyone knows I'm the one nuisance he can never shake, always finding some new way to get on his nerves. But the day he picks up his new car, I suddenly stop making a fuss and become so quiet I'm practically invisible. Even he isn't used to seeing me like this. Late that night, he rushes back to our apartment through the rain. For once, his voice softens as he tries to explain. "I didn't let you ride in my car tonight because Ruby's a clean freak. She can't stand the smell of the pizzeria on your clothes. It didn't look like it was raining that hard, so I drove her home first. Can you stop giving me the silent treatment now?" Of course, it's Ruby Barnett again. Apparently, even the smell of a restaurant kitchen is too much for her. I just smile. "It's fine. I don't mind." After all, I'm leaving for Valenne in three days to study at its top culinary academy. Soon, no one will have to put up with me smelling like the pizzeria anymore.

After the college entrance exam results are released, my childhood best friend, Lucille Kirk, and I celebrate with our families at a five-star hotel. Over dinner, our parents talk about how nice it would be if we applied to the same university. That way, we can continue looking out for each other, just as we have while growing up. I glance across the table at Lucille and ask politely, "Lucille, which university are you planning to apply to?" The moment the words leave my mouth, a flood of comments suddenly flashes before my eyes. "Oh, here we go again. I bet this pathetic second male lead is planning to follow the female lead to the same university." "I feel so bad for the female lead. She's had to put up with this guy clinging to her for three whole years just to keep the peace between their families." "Don't worry. The female lead has already agreed to attend Aurelia University with the male lead, Sawyer Spencer. She's definitely going to name some school on the other side of the country just to get this guy off her back. I can't wait to see his face when she does!" Lucille stares at me, her brows furrowed. Then she lets out a cold, dismissive laugh. "Clement Carnegie, where I go has nothing to do with you. I'm applying to South Coast University, all the way across the country. That place isn't suitable for you." I meet her gaze and nod, as if I couldn't care less. Then I turn to the girl standing quietly in the corner of the private dining room, silently holding the Kirk family's coats and car keys. "Mabel, which university do you want to apply to?" I ask. "I want to go to the same one as you." The sneer on Lucille's face instantly freezes. Both our families stare at us in shock. None of them knows that the timid girl with the cheap hearing aid—the one Lucille constantly calls "dummy"—is actually the long-lost daughter of Aurelia's wealthiest family. They have been searching for her for 18 years. And all these years, the reason I keep showing up at the Kirk Manor has never been because I'm chasing Lucille. I only go there so I can see that "dummy" a little more often.

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.

My boyfriend, Hugh Specter, is the best psychologist in town. I struggle with severe anxious attachment, and he tells me I need to undergo exposure therapy. The treatment is designed to gradually break my dependence on him for comfort. For the first week, I'm not allowed to initiate physical contact. The second week, hugs longer than three seconds are forbidden. The third week, I'm not allowed to text him while he's working. The fourth week, all physical contact is off-limits. I'm supposed to learn how to soothe myself instead of relying on him. I follow every rule. Whenever anxiety hits, I bite down on my pillow and force myself through it. I fill an entire journal with reminders to stay calm and reassure myself. At the start of the fifth week, I arrive at Hugh's clinic early to drop off my progress report. I see him sitting on a couch at the end of the hallway, holding his childhood sweetheart, Sonia Rafferty, in his arms. He lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to her hair, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand. "It's okay," he murmurs. "Hold on to me. I'm right here." I stare at the hand that has pulled away from me countless times, only to see it comforting someone else without hesitation. The receptionist lets out a quiet laugh. "Dr. Specter is usually extremely strict about professional boundaries. Somehow, Ms. Rafferty is the one person who always gets him to make an exception." So that's what his boundaries were. They were only reserved for me. I feed my progress report into the shredder, cancel the rest of my appointments, and delete his number. By the end of the fifth week, I finally complete my exposure therapy. Not because I've learned to resist the urge to depend on him, but because I've realized I don't need him anymore.