Reborn Short Stories & Mistress Cheating Novels

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

After being reborn, I decide to stay far, far away from Jasper Swanson. I resign from his company. I sell our future wedding house. I go overseas to expand our family's business. In my previous life, I used a pregnancy to force him to marry me. But on our wedding day, his beloved first love jumped off a rooftop. Jasper acted like nothing had happened. He smiled and went through with the ceremony. On our wedding anniversary, he took me and our daughter to go bungee jumping. Then, he cut the cords himself, making us fall to our deaths. Afterward, he stood over my body and laughed manically. "If it weren't for you, Coco wouldn't have killed herself! Now, go to hell and atone for it!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I used the baby to force his hand.

On the day of my husband, Ruben Castille's funeral, a grief-stricken woman shows up at the venue. After putting down the white lilies, she doesn't walk away. Instead, she chooses to approach me. "Honestly speaking, I've been envious of you for 30 years." I frown at her in confusion. Her lips just quirk into a small smile as her gaze falls onto Ruben's portrait. Soon, her eyes redden out of emotion. "Over the past 30 years, he's given me everything, be it love, time, and money. On top of that, he's very generous, too." The woman pauses for a moment. She then tilts her head to look at me, her voice now tinged with resentment. "But his only condition is that I'm not allowed to cause any trouble in front of you." My heart skips a beat. "What do you mean by that?" The woman laughs in return. "You two were married for 30 years. Similarly, Ruben and I were together for 30 years. Ashlee Drayton, he had already betrayed you a long time ago." After that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me rooted to the spot while feeling my limbs going cold. My eyes go wide, and I begin breathing heavily. The betrayal and lies that have lasted for 30 years trigger me instantly, causing me to collapse at the venue. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ruben plans on proposing to me. "Ashlee, will you marry me?" I fall silent for a moment. Then, I accept the ring, only to throw it into a nearby drain without hesitation.

In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat. I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own. But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor." In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in. But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor. That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story. Our daughter passed away that night. Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

During a thunderstorm on the border, my fiancee, Eleanor Ashby, covers my retreat and falls down a cliff. The search and rescue team spends three months searching through flash floods without finding a trace of her. Everyone concludes she's dead. I refuse to give up and spend another two years looking for her. Eventually, I find her at a small clinic in a remote mountain village. But she's become the wife of the clinic's caregiver, Dylan Foster. That's when I learn she's lost her memory and fallen in love with someone else. In my previous life, I ignore her wishes and force a renowned neurosurgeon to use a high-risk treatment to restore her memories. The day her memories return, the man who has cared for and protected her for the past two years throws himself into the river in despair. Later, during an earthquake rescue mission, Eleanor and I are trapped beneath a collapsed mountainside. There's only one narrow escape route wide enough for one person. She forcibly pushes me out. Moments later, a second collapse buries her beneath a massive boulder. With her dying breath, she reaches through a crack in the rocks and grips my hand. She says in a hoarse voice, "Callum Pierce, these ten years we've spent together is repayment for the debt I owed you from the ten years before. We're even now. Neither of us owes the other anything anymore. "If there's a next life, don't let me remember the past. Please... let me be with him." Tears blur my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I find Eleanor. This time, I choose to respect her decision and let go of the life she's forgotten.

When the ship went down, my wife and I were both thrown into the freezing water. Her whole body was underwater, but she used every ounce of strength she had left to hold me above the surface. Watching her lips turn blue and her face go pale, I knew her life was slipping away fast. "Let me go," I sobbed. "I want to die with you." She held on even tighter. "Gideon, hang on a little longer. Help is coming. I need you to live." I was crying so hard I could barely get the words out. "What's the point of living if you're gone?" "Help is almost here," she said weakly. "Once you're safe, tell Elliot... the baby I'm carrying is actually his..." It hit me like a bolt of lightning. Elliot was my best friend. His wife did classified aerospace research, so I'd never even met her. Never in a million years did I imagine the baby my wife was carrying wasn't mine. It was his...

I'm lucky to have Maggie Lambert as my grandmother. She appears in my dreams three times. The first time, she tells me I'll win a 75-million-dollar lottery jackpot. The second time, she tells me I'll marry a gorgeous woman. She then visits me for the third time and says, "Go to the home in the south of the city and burn everything in the basement, Christian." I'm over the moon with excitement, but that day, Nathan Lister, my three-year-old son, suddenly comes down with a high fever and loses consciousness. I decide to take him to the hospital instead of following Grandma's instructions after seeing how worried my wife, Wanda Cooper, is. In that instant, my world completely collapses. I lose 75 million dollars, and the company I founded becomes my assistant Henry Johnson's conglomerate. On top of that, Wanda becomes Henry's wife. I take the matter to court and report it to the police, only to be labeled delusional—everyone looks at me like I'm insane. In the end, Henry sends me straight to a psychiatric hospital. Henry and Wanda come to visit me the last time I'm clear-headed. Wanda cuddles up to Henry in his arms and looks at me, asking, "How much longer do you think he'll live, Henry?" I don't have time to struggle before Henry pulls out my ventilator. I open my eyes again and find that I have been reborn.

My husband, Kenneth Sterling, dies of a sudden heart attack while burning cash bundles at a grave. However, when I arrive to claim his body, I discover a bottle of emergency heart medication in his pocket. The cops offer their condolences, explaining that Kenneth must've been so overwhelmed by grief that he didn't have time to take his medication. I nod in agreement but freeze the moment I see the photo on the tombstone. The woman staring back at me is none other than Kenneth's deceased ex-wife, Roxana Clark. Just then, a recurring reminder pops up on his phone. "1. Withdraw 100 grand from the bank and burn it for Roxana." "2. I've taken a wife to care for my elderly parents. Now, I willingly give up my life to reunite with Roxana in God's embrace." I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. Day in and day out, I work hard and pinch pennies to cover Kenneth's parents' medical bills. Yet, he has been burning stacks of cash for a dead woman for more than a decade. As heartbreaking as it is absurd, my old illness flares up, and I die on the spot. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Kenneth and I tie the knot.

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

Before my death, I repeatedly remind my son, Clark Sinclair, what to do after I pass away. I stress that my heart must be donated to my husband, Craig Sinclair. He has suffered from dilated cardiomyopathy for 30 years. This is the last thing I can do for him. Clark shakes me off impatiently and snaps, "Enough. Stop pretending to be kind. Dad was never sick." I think I must have misheard him. "What?" He lets out a cold laugh and continues, "If you hadn't refused to divorce him all these years, why would he have needed to fake an illness just to be with Vern in secret?" My whole body trembles as I demand proof. Clark hands me a marriage certificate. On it are the names Craig and Verna Bloom, my widowed sister-in-law. The two lean against each other intimately, smiling sweetly at the camera. In an instant, rage and grief overwhelm me. The family I spend half my life building turns out to be nothing more than a complete lie. Clark continues expressionlessly, "Actually, Vern is my real mother. Your child was drowned in a bathtub long ago. Back then, Dad and Vern couldn't resist each other. She went into premature labor and nearly bled to death. She gave birth to me on the same day you gave birth. "Dad was so frightened that he developed heart palpitations. He was afraid you'd never stop causing trouble if you found out, so he pretended to be sick for 30 years." Curled up on the floor, I cough up a mouthful of blood. "Why tell me now?" Clark looks at me with eyes full of nothing but hatred. "You stole Vern's place for 30 years. And now, even on your deathbed, you want my dad to owe you a favor. Why should he?" An inexplicably bitter taste fills my mouth. In the end, I die consumed by regret. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the delivery room next to Verna's. A wave of excruciating pain surges through my lower body.

In her past life, Elara Newman had married Orion Baron, who turned out to be an absent husband. On the day she gave birth, she suffered a severe hemorrhage and lost consciousness. However, Orion was unreachable. After she was snapped awake by the doctor, she had to sign her name on the surgical consent form while her hands were still shaking. When her children caught a raging fever, Orion was still nowhere to be seen. She had to rush to the hospital all by herself, and after three consecutive days of looking after them, she was exhausted and passed out in the corridor. On the day when her parents passed away in a car accident, Orion was still absent. As she returned home with the urn containing her parents' ashes, she was greeted by a vicious slap across the face. Her uncle immediately berated her for failing to win her husband over. He blamed her that her parents never got a chance to see their son-in-law before they passed and could never rest in peace. By the time Elara turned fifty-eight, she was terminally ill with cancer. Her life was coming to an end.

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

After Raven Fuentes's Childhood sweethearts Lyra Ross is taken by rogue wolves, Raven Fuentes hates me with everything he has. He'd rather spend his nights patrolling in the cold and drinking himself numb than face me, his mate. I care for him, try to please him, do everything I can… but all I get in return is his icy rejection. "The one you wronged is Lyra. If anyone should've been taken, it should've been you—not her." His words crush me. My heart breaks completely. And yet, when I'm attacked by a pack of rogues, it's Raven who throws himself into the fray to save me. He dies under their savage claws. Even in his final moments, he won't look at me. "If I had a choice, I'd never want to be tied to you again." At the funeral, Raven's mother faints on the stone platform holding his body, sobbing uncontrollably. "I should've never forced him into a mate bond with you. I would've rather he ended up with Lyra!" His father strokes his face one last time, his voice shaking with rage and grief. "He saved your life three times! This time, it cost him his own. You owe him three lives, and not even death can repay that debt!" Raven was the captain of the protection force. He spent his life shielding others. Everyone calls him a hero. The only tragedy, they say, is that he married me. And honestly, I agree. They forbid me from attending his funeral. They won't even let me say goodbye. Not long after, I hear the Silvermoon Pack has developed a time-travel device. Without hesitation, I pay the price so that I can go back in time. This time, I'll do what everyone wishes I had done. I'll cut all ties with Raven and stay far away from everyone.

I accompany my husband, Michael Yates, to a stationed assignment on a remote island. Out at sea, a sudden storm hits. The ship capsizes and begins to sink. As the commanding officer, my husband gives the last life vest to his so-called godsister, Naomi Hollister. I don't cry or scream. I just watch silently as he carefully fastens the straps around her body. In my past life, I had clutched my pregnant belly and begged him for help. After a brief hesitation, he finally put the vest on me. But Naomi was swept away by the waves, and her body later washed up on shore. Only half of it remained. Michael insisted it wasn't my fault. He also said that saving me was his duty, both morally and professionally. He even took leave to stay by my side before I gave birth. But when my water broke in the dead of night, he pushed me into the sea. His eyes were bloodshot and burning with hatred. "Leah, if it weren't for you, Mimi would still be alive! Did you really have to force me to give you the vest when you were just pregnant? Couldn't you have waited a little longer? Why do you get to live? Go down there and die with her!" I drown, and fish tear my body apart. I die without even a full corpse left behind. And then, I open my eyes. I'm back on the day of the storm.

I've been married to Sylvia Fuller, a mafia donna, for ten years. I'm there with her in every life-and-death situation. My hands, which are meant for playing the piano, have developed calluses from using guns. They are also stained with blood from the enemies. But when Sylvia turns 28, she falls head over heels in love with Wilson Hink, the young man she's brought back from the slums. Sylvia has hidden him very well… right until the moment I bump into him accompanying her to a prenatal check-up. Mad with jealousy, I demand Sylvia for answers, but she just passes me a divorce agreement in a lackadaisical manner. "Wilson is a man of religion. He can't sire a child without getting married, so I have to give him a legitimate status. Sign this agreement, and I'll give you 40% of my shares." I refuse to give my position away, so Sylvia keeps forcing my hand. In the end, she even kidnaps my younger brother, who's paralyzed from waist down, and drags him to the spot beneath a hydraulic press. "Sebastian Chance, either you sign the agreement, or watch him get crushed. Your choice." I kneel on the ground and beg Sylvia to stop. But soon, I hear the hydraulic press being activated. It doesn't take long before I'm completely covered in my brother's flesh and blood. I end up collapsing onto the gore-splattered ground. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've gone back in time—back to the time when Wilson has accompanied Sylvia to the prenatal check-up. This time, I don't say anything. Instead, I contact a rehabilitation center located overseas before filing for a divorce and leaving Sylvia behind. But once I'm gone for real, Sylvia actually goes crazy.

After finding out that the city is flourishing with countless opportunities, Florence Chastain drinks far too much out of elation. She begins stumbling toward the home of Gerard Vertes, a widower, in her drunken haze. Even though I have a crush on her, I choose to ignore her. In my previous life, I was worried that Florence might submit to her carnal urges due to intoxication, which might lead to her losing the golden opportunity of moving to the city. So, I rushed over to stop her. But Florence was quick to yank the hem of my shirt while begging me to satisfy her urges. After the wild night, she got pregnant with my child. In order to preserve Florence's reputation, her parents forced her to marry me. After our marriage, Florence was cold and aloof toward me and our child. She'd beat us up from time to time, too. "If not for your busybody tendencies back then, I wouldn't have married a country bumpkin like you! With talents like mine, I'd definitely have made it big in the city!" The daily torment had me physically and mentally strained. In order to make life easier for this family, I borrowed money from various sources just to rent a general store. That way, we'd have steady income. But Florence had the audacity to lock me up at home when our son was down with a high fever. I begged her to save our son, only to get beaten up by her ruthlessly instead. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night Florence is making her way drunkenly toward Gerard's house.

On the night before my wedding to my childhood sweetheart, Rylan Benton, my sister, Elisa Houghton, shows up with an ultrasound image. She tells me she's pregnant with Rylan's child. When she fails to force me to call off the wedding, she leaves behind a suicide note and jumps to her death, taking her unborn child with her. Rylan hates me for it. He forces me to have his child, only to smother our newborn in its crib. His eyes burn crimson as he grips my jaw. "Amy Houghton, her baby never got a chance at life, so yours doesn't deserve to live either!" Now, I am reborn. I wake up on the eve of the wedding. Ignoring the sly glint in Elisa's eyes, I offer a faint smile. "Fine. The wedding is off."

Eleanor Sutton was in love with Harrison Luther since she was 20 years old. She married him when she turned 22. Five years into their marriage, they had yet to have a child together. Harrison kept protecting Eleanor from his family while enduring the pressure they kept inflicting on him. At that time, everyone claimed that Eleanor was Harrison's weak spot. But everything changed once news of Harrison having an illegitimate child was leaked. He kneeled in the downpour for the whole day afterward as a form of punishment. Then, he explained to Eleanor that it was just an accident, and that he vowed to love her and her only. So, Eleanor accepted the outcome of the illegitimate child being kept in the family, while the mistress was exiled far, far away. But despite Harrison's promise, his mistress, Winona Birch, still ended up moving into Eleanor's home, where she'd be cared for during her pregnancy. Harrison began skipping meetings for her sake, and he'd also ditch Eleanor just so he could go on strolls with Winona. In fact, he'd even abandon Eleanor halfway during their dates in order to be with Winona. The first time Eleanor brought up divorce, Harrison slit his wrists in the bathroom. He left a suicide note, claiming that he'd rather die than not being able to grow old with Eleanor. When divorce was brought up the second time, Harrison hurriedly pleaded to Eleanor to not leave him. But after multiple conflicts, his attitude toward her became wishy-washy. After their 100th argument, Eleanor ran away from their home. Harrison no longer went after her, thinking that she'd eventually return to his side. But she died in that rainy night. When Eleanor opens her eyes again, she finds out that she has returned to the day Harrison's illegitimate child is exposed. This time, she dials a number. "I shall accept the offer of becoming a war correspondent." Her editor reminds her that she won't be able to get in touch with the outside world once she embarks on this journey, and that she needs Harrison's permission in order to accept the offer. Eleanor merely replies, "I'll divorce Harrison soon. I'll depart on time in a week." She wants to make sure that Harrison will never be able to find her anymore.