Tragic Love の短編小説 & Hypocrisy Cheating 小説

Pierce Harrington already knew I had severe claustrophobia before our wedding. He spent three years removing every lock in the house. Even the bathroom door was replaced with a curtain. For three years, he never closed the door when he slept, not even in winter when all the heat flew out of the room. I asked him once if he was cold. He pulled two blankets up to his chin and laughed. "As long as you're sleeping well, that's all that matters." One day, my best friend, Vanessa Ridley, came over to visit. She lured me into the storage room. The second the door locked from the outside, I collapsed. I pounded on the door, screamed, and curled up on the floor. The shock made me lose all control of my bladder. Fifteen minutes later, the door opened. Pierce stood on the other side, holding up his phone. Vanessa was laughing so hard her knees buckled to the floor. "Oh my God! She actually peed herself." Pierce held his phone out, his tone impossibly soft. "Nessa says it's exposure therapy. We'll lock you in a few more times, and you won't be scared anymore. Your brother said we should help you toughen up. A couple more rounds, and you'll be fine." My brother was on the other end of the video call. He said, "Look at yourself! You're so pathetic. And you call yourself a grown woman!" I was drenched, the stench of urine sharp in my nose. I was shaking so hard I could not stand. I stared at the storage room door, the lock freshly bolted back on. Then it hit me. Last month, it was Pierce who locked the bedroom door. Two weeks ago, he was the one who sealed the car windows. Every lock he had spent three years removing, he had put right back with his own hands. I stood up slowly. I did not cry. I did not make a scene. I did not need anyone to open this door for me anymore.

This Thanksgiving, Elmer Fuller finally agrees to go on a trip with me. But when I wake up in the hotel, I don't see him anywhere. I spend the entire day desperately searching for him, only to stumble across a social media post from his first love. It's a selfie of her and Elmer having a cozy family dinner with her parents. The caption reads, "Someone's finally meeting the parents on Thanksgiving night. Mom and Dad can stop pressuring me to get married now!" Around her neck is the scarf my mother knitted for me before she passed. I left a comment. "Stop using my things to flirt with my husband. Take the scarf off—you can have him." Not long after, she posts an update. The scarf is shredded into pieces and tossed into a dog bed, with the caption, "What trash—too filthy even for a dog!" Elmer likes the post.

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

Everyone says that the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Landor, Prince Colin Livingston, loves me to the core. But on the day of court presentation, he bypasses me and presents the princess consort's diamond ring to my elder sister, Monique Payne, instead. However, I'm not the least bit upset. I even smile and congratulate Colin, saying, "I wish you and my sister a lifetime of happiness, Your Royal Highness." In my past life, I caught Colin rolling in the sheets with Monique when I was six months pregnant. I flew into a rage and accidentally killed her with a sword. Colin hated me for the rest of my life after that. When he finally ascended the throne, he posthumously crowned Monique as his Queen and even registered the many children I risked my life bearing for him under her name instead. I was heartbroken, requesting a royal decree to depose me as his wife. However, he tore up the royal edict and imprisoned me inside the palace instead. "You are my wife. And you will never escape me in this lifetime!" Ultimately, while I was still locked up in my room, our enemies ambushed and attacked the palace, setting fire to the place. And despite being struck down by numerous arrows, Colin still used every last ounce of his strength to protect me and save me from harm. Just before his death, he wiped away my tears with bloody hands and whispered into my ear, "Don't cry for me, Merry. I was the one who let you down in this lifetime. "But if there ever is a next life, I hope that you will let me be with Monique instead." I agreed in a trembling voice. But when I open my eyes again, I realize that I have gone back in time to the day the Crown Prince chooses the princess consort. So, I help him fulfill his wish this time.

On the day I caught my fiancé, Henry Smith, in our bed with my adopted sister, Stacy Ellis, I slipped into severe depression and took 30 sleeping pills. After I was saved, my parents, Harold and Karen Ellis, told me calmly that Stacy had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and only had three months to live. It was up to me if I wanted to forgive them. Henry teared up as he begged me, "It doesn't matter if you're willing to forgive. I'll keep my promise to give you a wedding in a month." When I saw how much he regretted what he did, I gave in to him. That ended when I came across a private conversation on my brother's phone. His name was Toby Ellis, and he was a doctor. Stacy had sent him a voice note, and she could be heard laughing daintily. "You're so smart, forging that medical report to trick that crazy woman, Toby." My hands were trembling when I confronted my family with the conversation. However, Toby remained silent and smoked his cigarette while my parents looked tired as they blamed me instead. "You're too emotionally fragile. We wouldn't have gone so far as to lie to you if we hadn't been afraid that you'd try to kill yourself again." Henry's eyes were filled with hate as he shielded Stacy behind him. "Can't you just be a little more accepting? Are you really determined to see your family all apart?" I watched the man I loved and my family make demands for me to give in to Stacy. I swallowed hard, tasting blood. In the end, I smiled calmly. They were willing to go as far as to claim that Stacy was suffering from a terminal illness just to protect her. All the while, they were unaware that my severe depression was real. It was also true that somatization was causing many of my organs to fail. I no longer wanted this family, especially when I would not be surviving past this winter.

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

My husband secretly swapped the transplant recipient, giving the kidney that was meant for our daughter to the daughter of the woman he had always loved. Not long after, our daughter's condition worsened. The doctors tried to save her, but it was no use. She didn't make it. At the same time, the other girl's surgery was a success. My husband was so overjoyed that he handed out little gifts to the entire hospital in celebration. Rage and grief overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. When I came to, the doctors told me I had cancer. Late-stage. My time was running out. With nothing left to hold on to, I walked out of the hospital, clutching the urn that held my daughter's ashes. In the cold, empty house, I sat alone and drafted the divorce papers.

On the day of my pre-wedding photoshoot, the photographer compliments me, saying I look just like my sister, Jenna Shaw, when I smile. My fiance, Clifton Cooper, immediately asks Jenna to change into a white wedding dress as well, saying she might as well take a few photos for keepsakes. When selecting the photos, the whole family gathers around Jenna's set of pictures and praises them. My mother, Victoria Winn, says Jenna is naturally suited to wearing a wedding dress. My father, Reginald Shaw, says she looks more radiant and poised than me, the bride-to-be. Clifton stares at the screen for a long time, then points to the one where Jenna glances back over her shoulder. "Jenna looks great in this one. Let's put this one at the wedding welcome area." Only when I ask him where my photos will go does he finally seem to remember my existence. "Since you and Jenna look so much alike, the guests won't be able to tell the difference. Besides, Jenna isn't getting married, so it isn't easy for her to get a chance to wear a wedding dress." A laugh suddenly escapes me. Ever since we were little, it's never been easy for Jenna, so I'm supposed to give in to her. Not only do I have to give her whatever she wants, but I'm not allowed to have anything she doesn't have either. Even my wedding has to be about making her dream come true. I pull the only photo of Clifton and me together from the album. In the photo, I stand beside Clifton, smiling with all my might. But looking at it now, all I feel is that I'm looking at a stranger. It turns out spring is never late. It's just that I've been standing in someone else's shadow, waiting for it. Well, this time, I don't want to wait anymore.

On the day I finally paid off the mortgage on our marital home, my boyfriend, Jesse Culver, keeps ignored my calls even though we were supposed to go register our marriage today. Instead, I received a message from my ex-husband, Dave Grossman. "What does it feel like to be betrayed for the second time?" I was stunned when a video pops up. Inside a private room, Jesse was taking wedding photos with another woman, happily leaning against her. My dad, Chris Lillard, who had wished me a smooth marriage registration that very morning, was smiling adoringly at them. My friends and classmates were cheering them on, too. "Kiss! Kiss!" The bride-to-be in the video was my former best friend, Nicki Jones. When I was eight months pregnant, she slept with Dave. After I miscarried, I divorced him immediately and cut all contact with her. Dave kept messaging me. "Looks like your best friend really is irresistible." "Jesse called me a bastard back then and wanted to beat me to death. But now, he's deceived you for her too." Being betrayed for the second time hurts so badly that I can barely breathe. Five years ago, it pushed me into depression. Jesse was the one who pulled me out of it. However, five years later, he joined forces with my family and friends to betrayed me for the same woman. The next second, Dave sent me an address. He texts, "Want to go take a look? It's up to you."

Years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband outside the school. We each held our own child by the hand and passed each other like strangers. As I turned to leave, he caught my hand. His voice was tinged with regret. “That little girl is just as pretty as you were at her age.” I froze for a moment. So, he remembered. We had grown up together as childhood sweethearts and married young. We had seen every version of each other and shared every part of growing up. I had once loved him more than anything and believed we would spend the rest of our lives together. But in that moment, I simply drew my hand back, calmly. “I’m sorry. You must have confused me with someone else.” I had no desire to revisit the past. That chapter had been painful enough to live through once. I would not open it again.

To give my wife a sense of security, I stepped back once the company was on track and took over things at home. In ten years, Adeline Hemsley had never brought me to a single company gala. When the tenth anniversary celebration was announced at a five-star hotel, I finally asked if I could come with her. She was slipping into a pair of heels, not even looking in my direction. "You're my husband. If you show up, people won't feel comfortable." Before leaving, she leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. "Be good. Once this busy stretch is over, we'll take Cole to Silver Coast." The door clicked shut. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the Legos and picture books scattered across the floor. A familiar heaviness settled in my chest. Our three-year-old came running over, holding up a black phone. "Dad! Mom forgot her phone!" I hesitated. This wasn't the one she normally used. The moment my fingers brushed the screen, a message preview popped up. [Babe, I picked out a suit for the gala. It's only 6,000. You’ll get it for me, right?]

I was out delivering food in the blistering heat when I scrolled past a viral couple's vlog on Snapreel. The woman in the video steered with one hand, and the line of her profile looked exactly like my girlfriend, Jenna Wilder. I took a screenshot and sent it to her. [Look, this woman could be your twin.] Jenna replied almost right away, sounding fond and a little exasperated. [Babe, don't be silly. I'm hauling boxes at the warehouse right now and I'm covered in dust.] She followed it with a photo of herself in the warehouse and told me to stay cool out there. I looked at the photo, shook my head, and smiled. Jenna would not even buy an ice cream without splitting it with me. There was no way she was the trust fund girl in that video who threw money around like it was nothing. A moment later, the vlogger posted an update. In the new video, Jenna wore a couture gown in a room filled with red roses, wrapped in the arms of a young man with a dazzling smile. The caption read, [Happy sixth anniversary to the man who's always by my side.] Jenna and I had only been together for three years.

edric Blackwood was about to mark me at our bonding ceremony when Elena Marsh, a wolfless girl, burst in. She wore a necklace made with one of Cedric's fangs, which he'd broken off while in wolf form. She held it up and confronted Cedric. "You promised this necklace would grant me three wishes." Cedric immediately stepped away from me. "First, you can't touch Cassandra tonight. Second, the vows you wrote for her are for me alone." Cedric went quiet. Then, with everyone watching, he took Elena's hand and gently recited the vows he'd written for me. "And the third?" Elena glanced at me with a smug smile. "In three days, I want you to choose me as your mate." I turned to Cedric, certain he would refuse her. Instead, he agreed without hesitation. Then he looked at me. "Cassandra, I swore to the Moon Goddess that I'd grant her three wishes. I can't break my oath. I have to give her what she wants. We'll have to call off today's bonding ceremony." Then he walked away without another word. The man I'd loved for ten years didn't even look back. A cold night wind swept across the ceremony grounds, putting out the torches one by one. As the last flame died, so did my love for him. But Cedric had forgotten something important. Without me as his mate, he could never become Alpha King.

After giving my son, Cameron Spencer, one of my corneas, he had a memory distortion and confused me for his father's childhood sweetheart, Joanna Lister. Such dreadful news caused me to be in so much pain that I refused to wake up. However, during the time that I was semiconscious, I heard my son and my husband's conversation. "Dad, does this mean Joanna will keep me company in the future?" "Yes, it does. You've put on a great act, son!" My attending surgeon couldn't stand their heartlessness and said, "Mr. Spencer, your son’s eyes are fine, but you lied to Mrs. Spencer in order for her to donate her cornea for Ms. Lister. If Mrs. Spencer finds out, I'm afraid..." "There's nothing to be afraid of. She loves Cameron and me so much and she's an orphan as well. There's nowhere she could go after leaving us. Joanna's all alone in this city and she's almost gone blind. We can't waste any more time!" I lay on the bed as my hopeless tears soaked the pillow. All they cared about was Joanna. But what they didn't know was that I was dying due to the operation.

One week before the wedding, I accidentally came across a copy of my girlfriend's abortion procedure report. She always insisted she was uninterested in being intimate, yet behind my back, she had secretly aborted another man's baby. Instead of questioning her, I quietly put the report back where I found it. For the next week, I went along with the wedding planning, picking out the outfits and rings. But on the day of the wedding, the bride, waiting endlessly for the groom who never came, lost her mind.

After I landed a five-million-dollar contract and saved the company from financial collapse, my CEO wife wrapped me in an excited embrace and said she wanted to have a baby with me. She took out her phone and showed me a virtual baby on an app she had just signed up for. "Look, honey," she said. "Isn't it adorable? You can even change how it looks. Do you like it? Once things settle down at the company, we can have a real one." That night, I came across a post by her male secretary on social media. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test, with my wife's figure visible in the background. I did not comment. I just liked the post. When my wife noticed, she panicked and called me immediately. "Honey, it's not what you think. Please listen to me! I wanted to surprise you. The baby is yours! "Can you clear things up on social media for everyone? I promise I'll give you a child of your own soon." She insisted the baby was mine, yet she seemed to have forgotten that we had not shared a bed in six months. "End the pregnancy," I said. "We're finished."

My boyfriend was supposed to come to my parents' house that day to ask for their blessing before proposing. My parents had prepared a whole table of food for him. I sat at the table and came across my boyfriend Sebastian Graham's story. In the photo, his childhood friend and "little sister", Claire Crawford, was wearing a beautiful white wedding dress. She looked sweet and gentle. His caption read. "Giving the girl I promised to marry as a child the wedding she never got. The wedding may be fake, but our bond is real." As I looked at the food in front of me that had been reheated countless times, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. Just a few hours earlier, I had been secretly happy that after waiting seven years, we were finally going to take the next step in our relationship. My parents and I had already been waiting for him for three hours, but he hadn't even told me whether he was coming. He was throwing Claire a grand and romantic fake wedding, yet he couldn't even show up for one of the most important moments of our relationship. I looked at the wedding dress sketch I had carefully designed as a surprise for him and gave a bitter laugh. Just one week ago, we had agreed on all the plans and timing for today. For the past seven years, he had prepared all kinds of celebrations for Claire every year, but he had never put the same effort into planning anything for me. After waiting for a long time, my mother finally asked me sadly, "Margaret, are we still waiting for him?" I quietly replied, "No. We're not." From that day on, I decided I would never wait for him again.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, Justin Gould stands me up again. I stare at his curt text saying he has to work late. Just as I'm about to reply, I accidentally enter an outdoor livestream. The camera shifts, and Justin suddenly comes into view. I frantically rewind the livestream, replaying the footage again and again to make sure I'm not mistaken. It's not just because Justin has lied to me. The child in his arms has the same distinctive birthmark on his neck as my son, Tommy Gould, the baby I was told had died after being born prematurely. My heart pounds as I rush to the location shown on the livestream. But when I get there, I hear the child call the woman beside him "Mom". She is Justin's foster sister, Lyra Gould. Justin wraps his arm around her, his voice full of affection. "If you could have children, I never would've married Zoey. You wanted a child, so I had one with her just for you. I told that fool our son had died, and she actually believed me. Lyra, you're the only one I love." I stand frozen, my heart turning cold. Only then do I realize that all these years, I was just a vessel for them to have a child.

My husband's brother dies before my husband and I marry. My mother-in-law has never liked me, and my husband is a mommy's boy. He listens to her when she forces him to remain in mourning for his brother—within the next three years, we can only register our marriage but not have a wedding. To help his widowed sister-in-law past these difficult times, my husband runs over to her place every few days, leaving me alone at home. Anyone who isn't in the know would think I'm the widow! My scheming sister-in-law even tells her child to address my husband as their father instead of uncle. I sneer. "How shameless of you to want your brother-in-law to care for two families at once. Thank goodness the child in my womb doesn't have such a disgusting father."

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.