Tragic Love Imagination Short Stories & Mistress Novels

There was an open secret among upper-class society. The wealthy man, Brandon Anderson, loved his wife to death. However, he was addicted to cheating on her. He would give everything those young women wanted from him, but he had one strict rule for them: not to expose anything to his wife. Everyone knew that he had loved his wife for ten years, and he had put in a lot of effort to marry her. He had once said that if his wife died, he would not survive. However, this latest mistress did not follow his instruction. She came to me because he doted on her. She sent me a lot of photos of condoms and his sleeping face. “Ms. Lowe, this brand is too good. I was screaming the whole night. Has Mr. Anderson ever used that with you?” It was that moment that I realized the young man who was infatuated with me had given his heart to me, but his body to other people. When I saw the photos, I cried so hard that I had no more tears. Then, I drafted a divorce agreement and signed it. I turned around and saw Brandon, seventeen again, crying as he stared at me.

Every time I miscarry, Adrian Sadler brings home a new woman who eerily resembles his first love. He makes me put the rubber on him, forces me to watch their fevered passion, and then orders me to bring warm water for their intimate cleanup. I do everything I'm told, begging for just one night a month with him. That is, until I accidentally tear his favorite lover Peggy Olson's lingerie. That night, Adrian streams my humiliation for the world to see. He drags me onto the bed, twists my body to expose me fully to the camera, and pins me beneath an avalanche of shame. "Did you think her lingerie was suggestive? What about now? Look at yourself. Do you think you are any better? You love crawling into my bed, don't you? I'll help you get your fill. Maybe one man isn't enough to satisfy you. Why don't I call in ten men tomorrow?" As punishment, Adrian throws me outside, in my birthday suit, in the courtyard. Blood slowly pools beneath me. I experience my tenth miscarriage. I look for Derek Sadler and say, "I promised to help your family to repay your kindness. I tried my best. Ten miscarriages later, whatever blessing I once had is gone. I'll never have children again. Today, I've come to say goodbye."

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

The day before my wedding, my friend sent me a link to a viral web app called 'A Conversation with Your Future Self.' Looking at my fiancee, Wilma Lambert, still asleep beside me, I decided to give it a try and sent a message. [Future me, I'm marrying the woman I've loved for seven years tomorrow. I'll definitely be happy after we get married, right?] The screen flickered, and a reply came almost instantly. [No. That's because your wife has already cheated on you. On your wedding night, she'll spend it with your best friend, Hank Gilbert.] The smile on my face vanished instantly. I frowned and instinctively argued back. [How is that possible? Apart from my parents, Wilma and Hank are the two people I trust most. She even donated one of her kidneys to me.] The reply came just as quickly. [The truth is, they've been secretly sleeping together for a long time despite pretending to be at odds with each other for the past seven years.] [She donated her kidney to you only to secure a future with Hank and get your family to invest millions in them.] Wilma's phone alarm suddenly went off beside me. My gaze turned dark, and I gripped my phone so hard that my knuckles turned pale. Then came the final blow. [If you don't believe me, when you try on your wedding outfit later, just pull open the curtain of the fitting room next door. You'll see the truth then.]

After his son, George Black, dies, Jonas Black returns to his own world, thinking of that marriage as nothing more than a nightmare. That is, until the system appears again. "Host, after you drowned, Serena wanted to trade her own life to save yours. If you go back and stay at her side for a whole year, George will come back to life in this world, and you'll be rewarded ten billion dollars." Just like that, Jonas is summoned back to that world for a second time. This time, he's a different person. He suggests to Serena Quinn that they should sleep in separate rooms and stay out of each other's lives. When his daughter, Erica Black, makes a fuss about wanting to see Serena's savior, Henry Lane, Jonas simply has her things packed and sends her over with her suitcase. Even when Serena favors and sides with Henry, Jonas doesn't act up or get angry. He just doesn't care. All he does throughout the year is buy luxury cars or spend his time at clubs and bars, showering the hostesses with money. Everyone in the circle calls him "The Walking ATM". One day, Jonas casually gives his wedding ring, worth tens of millions, to a club hostess. Serena, who has heard the news, barges into the private room soon after. "Jonas Black!" She grabs his wrist. "That's our wedding ring. I designed it myself, and it took three years to perfect it! How could you just give it away? What are you trying to prove?!" Annoyed by her shaking him, Jonas pulls his hand free and leans against the couch lazily. "It's just a ring. Why make a big deal out of it? You can give your ring to someone else, too. It's not like you haven't done it before."

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding."

I, Darlene Cooley, have an ability. Whenever I touch an object, I can see the scenes it has experienced over the past day. I've been married for five years. Every time I help my husband, Bernard Hoffman, tidy up his suits or organize his briefcase, what I see are conference rooms, whiteboards, and workstations. Once in a while, I appear in those scenes. He'll be secretly reading my messages under his desk, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously. Bernard is so gentle that it feels almost unreal. In winter, he places my slippers by the heater to warm them up. No matter how busy his business trips are, he video calls me right on time. When I casually mention I feel like eating caramel popcorn, he drives halfway across the city to stand in line for it. My friends all say I'm blessed, and I feel the same way. That is, until yesterday, when he comes back from a trip. I go to help him unpack, and the moment I touch that gray cashmere sweater, a flood of images rushes in. Bernard is sitting across from a short-haired woman. Her eyes are bright, and a shallow dimple appears when she smiles. He listens to her speak, earnest and focused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. A faint smile lingers at the corner of his mouth. It's been a long time since he has listened to me speak like that. The vision ends. I crouch in front of the suitcase, my hand still resting on the cashmere sweater, unable to snap out of it for a long while. Then, I stand up and walk over to the cabinet, where I pull out my own suitcase.

I was snow, lent to the human world by the Snow Realm. As a child, I led three lost boys out of the snowy mountains. One became my boyfriend. The other two became my closest childhood friends. The Snow Realm allowed me to stay human on one condition: Every year, before spring arrived, someone had to walk the last stretch of snow-covered trail at the summit with me. If no one came, I could no longer remain human. That first year, all three came, each trying to be the one to clear a path through the snow for me. And every year after that, they came again. Until this year, when my boyfriend Ethan’s cousin, Lily, moved to the city for school. She said she’d never seen the sea and wanted them to take her there. Before they left, I asked, “Who’s walking the snow trail with me this year?” Ethan answered first. “I am.” Noah and Lucas smiled. “Have we ever let you go alone?” But on the day we were supposed to leave, I waited at the station until dark. Then Lily sent me a photo from the beach. The three of them crowded around her, her smile as bright as a summer day. I asked, “Weren’t you supposed to come up the mountain with me?” “It’s Lily’s first time seeing the sea,” Ethan said. “I can’t just leave her here.” “You go every year,” Noah told me. “What’s the harm in skipping it once?” “We’ll go with you next year,” Lucas said. I looked toward the distant mountain. “But the snow will be gone tomorrow.” “Then we’ll go earlier next year,” Ethan replied. That night, they sent another message to the group chat. “We’re coming back to the beach next week. Want to join us?” I lowered my head. The snow on the back of my hand was slowly melting.

My husband, Jonah Perry, and my son, Liam Perry, have given me a gift on my birthday. As soon as I open it, I see a silver snake hissing at me before biting me on the hand. Terrified by the ordeal, I end up getting sent to the hospital. Liam walks into my hospital room with his head bowed. I'm about to tell him that I'm fine when he tells me in disappointment, "Suz loves snakes the most. Dad and I plan on keeping a few snakes at home, too. "How's Suz going to visit us in the future if you keep this act up, Mom?" As he speaks, he lifts a snake to my face. "Will your fear disappear if you interact with snakes a lot more from now on?" Jonah chides Liam for his actions softly. But soon, he picks up a call from Suzanne Wright and walks out of the room with a wide smile on his face. I feel my heart sink to the pits of my stomach. My lips soon curl into a mocking smile. Instead of questioning the father-son duo hysterically like I always do, I summon the system, which has been asleep for a very long time. "Remember when you told me that I get to go home as long as I change my mind within two years after my mission's completion? Are you still holding up your end of that bargain?" One month later, I die right in front of Jonah and Liam. But they end up going insane.

While working a summer job at a water park, I was deliberately tripped by Kimmy Ames, my boyfriend Colin Mack’s childhood friend. I fell from an elevated platform. Colin cradled Kimmy, who was only pretending to be unconscious, and blamed me instead. “Some physical contact is unavoidable when I’m teaching her to swim. Are you really so jealous that you’d hurt yourself just to frame Kimmy?” I was in too much pain to offer any rebuttal. Then, the wave pool suddenly activated and swept me into the deep end. Colin was a lifeguard. He gave the only flotation device to Kimmy, who was taking swimming lessons in the shallows. “You have advanced lifeguard certification. A little water isn’t going to kill you, so get yourself out. Kimmy’s still traumatized by a drowning accident that happened when she was younger, so I have to keep her safe.” When I did not respond, he impatiently raised his megaphone. “You’re really going to keep putting on this attention-seeking act in front of everyone? Fine! Stay in there and cool off until you’re ready to behave.” To make sure I had time to reflect on my actions, he cleared everyone else out of the pool before walking away with his arm around Kimmy. He did not know that my arm was broken. I could not swim at all. He also did not know that at that very moment, a whirlpool was pulling me down with relentless force. I calmly closed my eyes and watched him leave. The system permitted him to abandon me only five times. This was the last.

I had been trying to court Liam Castle for five years. The only thing I needed for the system to declare my mission a success was to obtain the marriage license. I was so close, but Liam had cancelled our marriage registration for the ninth time. "Friday? I can't do Friday. I have to meet Nora's parents." Liam continued to explain disinterestedly, "Her parents have been grilling her to get a boyfriend, so I have to pretend to be her boyfriend so they'll let it rest. Why don't you ask the system for another month's extension? "Just tell the system you'll trade one month of your future lifespan for the extension, as you've always done. "We'll get married after I help deal with Nora's parents." He had always been aware of the system as well as the procedures for extending the deadline. What he did not know was that if I failed the mission, I only had ten months left to live. Now that he had extended it nine times, I was only one more extension from death. I decided I was done waiting for him. With that, I asked the system, "System, I remember you told me that, besides extending the deadline, I can also switch to a different target… "In that case, could I change the target?"

Ten days before our wedding, I discovered that Luna Sterling had been keeping another man in secret. She spent her days with me and her nights in the arms of her lover who was a wedding planner. I went to find her and call off the wedding, but by chance, I overheard the truth. Luna had been bound to a system that granted her unlimited reincarnations. "Host, this is already your ninety-ninth reincarnation. Haven't you had enough fun yet?" Luna answered without a care, "This is the last one. Once I complete my hundredth conquest, I'll settle down and live a good life with Julian." Later, the system came to me. "Mr. Prescott, would you like to bind yourself to the Reincarnation System? The only way to reincarnate is through death. The system will activate only after all signs of life have ceased." "Yes," I replied. "But I have one condition." I wanted Luna to lose her endless chances at reincarnation. And from this life onward, through every lifetime to come, she and I would never meet again.

Ruby Monroe's memory resets every three months, back to the day she hates me the most. She breaks my hand again and again to get revenge for her adopted son, Ricky Smith. She also loses her memories again and again after proposing to me beneath a sky full of fireflies. I live through our story over and over, waiting for the day she finally remembers everything. Until one day, I accidentally overhear her talking to her friends. "Ruby, how long are you going to keep this act up? Only a fool like Ricky would believe you really lost your memory. Every time, he gets down on his knees and begs us to play along with him, dreaming that he'll marry you. "In three days, you're going to fake losing your memory again, right? How many times has it been now?" "Nine times." Ruby's cold voice comes through the door. "His food gave Ricky food poisoning and ruined his coming-of-age ceremony. He should be punished!" She pats Ricky's head. "Nobody bullies Ricky!" My heart breaks when I hear her gentle yet cruel words. I never expect that all my years of waiting are just part of her revenge. I wipe away my tears and summon the system. "Cancel our previous deal. In three days, declare this mission a failure and erase all my memories of Ruby."

Five years after our divorce, I saw my ex-husband, Noah Whitmore, beneath a magnolia tree. He had grown much thinner, but clothes looked more than twice as expensive as they used to be. "It's been a long time. How have you been?" [I've been fine, just a little bored. What about you?] "My company went public. Things have gone fairly smoothly, though I've been a little busy." [Oh, that's good.] After a long silence, he let out a sigh. "Belle, the magnolias in our hometown have bloomed again. Where did you go?" I looked down at my transparent body and answered his words once more. [I'm right here.] Unfortunately, he could no longer hear me.

It is the third year of the apocalypse. All water sources have been thoroughly polluted, making even a single bottle of clean water extremely rare. Every base has to send out search teams to find new water sources for all. My husband, Jasper Curran, is a geologist, and so, he is able to locate water sources that are still pure and unpolluted. However, when someone holds a knife to my throat for the last bottle of water—thinking that he will do anything to stop them—he hands the only bottle of clean water to Avery Grayson, the person who claimed she was my parents' real daughter instead of me. "Ave is thirsty. She's been suffering since she was little and she even had her parents taken by you, Arianne Grayson," Jasper says. "Just let her have the water." Jasper's expression is too calm and collected, as if my life is not on the line because of him. "They're just trying to scare you. You've enjoyed so many years of being spoiled with a luxurious lifestyle anyway. So what if you get bullied a little?" The people then kick me to the ground in a fit of rage as I watch Jasper huddle Avery into his arms and disappear into the desert. I get beaten up so hard that my chapped lips crack and start bleeding once again. I look at the menacing faces around me and quickly exclaim, "Wait, wait! I can help you find clean water too!"

On my thirty-eighth birthday, my husband, Hugh Shaw, nearly forty, found the love of his life. He asked me for a divorce. "Mina’s only twenty. She’s sweet and kind, while you’re old and boring." I nodded at my own reflection, looking worn and lifeless. That explained Hugh’s strange behavior lately. He’d started caring about his appearance. He never left the house without putting on cologne, and he bought a bouquet of flowers every day. No matter how busy he was, the first thing he did when he got home was work out at the gym. Before the divorce, Hugh asked me, "Maya, you’ve been a housewife for seven years. Can you really bring yourself to divorce me? Don’t come crying to me later!" I smiled. "I won’t." Because that girl he fell in love with was me at twenty.

On my wedding day, I find out my wife has a system that lets her swap two people's lives. Once my love for her reaches its peak, she can make me switch lives with the man she's always loved. She makes me fall for her on purpose, all so she and that man can take everything I own. But after the swap, she comes to me with red-rimmed eyes and begs me to switch back. I smile and shove her away. "It's just cancer. Why should that stop you two from being together?"

On our anniversary, Nina Reid took our daughter—and her assistant, Ray Chapman—out for another "family day." Without me. That was it. I filed for divorce. Right after signing the papers and boxing up my stuff, I heard a buzz from the corner. Old phone. Twelve years old. Buried in a drawer. The screen lit up with a number I almost recognized. Hand shaking, I picked up. A voice I hadn't heard in years. Young. Way too familiar. "Hey, Liam. I need to talk to you."

In my seven years of my marriage with the Regent, I had risked my life bearing him five children. Every single one had died. My husband grieved so deeply that he collapsed. He knelt for three days and nights before the chapel in the bitter cold, praying for my well-being. He even spent a fortune to build a memorial tower in my honor. Everyone said the Regent loved his wife more than life itself. But the System's childbearing progress remained stuck at 90%. Then came All Hallows' Eve. I walked to the river alone to float a memorial candle for my fifth child, who had only just passed. What I found instead were four children carrying turnip lanterns, gathered around my half-sister, tugging at her skirts. "Mommy! Daddy said he's lighting a bonfire tonight!" Alaric Montague stood behind her, arms looped around her waist. His expression carried the same tenderness I knew so well. Even my father, as stern as he had always been, was chuckling beside them, more relaxed than I had ever seen him. My mother held a swaddled infant nearby, wiping the corner of the smallest child's mouth. "Odette is too frail to carry children. Thank goodness Alaric came up with a way to swap them." "Watch your words, Mrs. Devereaux," Alaric cut in at once, his gaze turning cold. "Laurel owed this to Odette. The debt is paid. I'll let her keep the next one." I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. In my mind, an electronic tone stirred to life after years of silence. [Laurel, five registered offspring detected alive. Childbearing mission for the heirless Regent is complete.] [Portal activation imminent. Confirm departure?]

The night my boyfriend confessed his feelings for me, he cried so hard he could barely speak. He said he'd somehow seen the future and wanted me to make him a promise. I asked him why. He only said, “I don't remember. I just remember that the future me regretted everything. More than anything. “Yvette, no matter what happens in the future, promise you'll give me three chances, okay?” I was deeply in love with him then, so of course I agreed without hesitation. But later, he seemed to forget all about that promise. Especially when he became inseparable from his female assistant. It wasn't until I signed my name on the divorce papers that I finally understood why he'd asked me for those three chances. Because just as I signed my name, a voice suddenly sounded beside my ear. It was Luke. Luke Miller at nineteen. He was crying. “Yvette, you promised me, remember? “You said you'd give me three chances.”