Tragic Love Short Stories & Mistress Countdown Novels

It was the fourth anniversary of our relationship. Heather Hilmann took her friend Liam Sherr and me went to have barbecue together. The waiter recognized them and smiled, asking, "Still the usuals?" Heather nodded. It was a table by the window for two, and Liam sat on the inside. The ribeye had slightly charred edges, and the dipping sauce had no onions. She gave the first piece and the last piece to Liam. I sat near the aisle, and there was not even a dipping‑sauce dish in front of me. When they paid the bill, the waiter checked the membership records and reminded them with a smile, "Ms. Hilmann and Mr. Sherr, tonight was your 100th visit. You can take your customized grill pan home." A line of words was engraved on the back of the grill pan: [Heather and Liam, Together Forever.] The date was three years ago. I then remembered that Heather had been at the hospital celebrating my birthday that day. It turned out that the two hours she had been away were not for a company meeting. Liam touched the engraving and asked her with a smile, "After you and Ian Jeffrey get married, will we still have our monthly get‑together?"

I loved my husband, Damian, for fifteen years—from school uniforms to a wedding dress. Everyone said he doted on me down to his bones. Until I saw him with my own eyes, shielding another woman in his arms. All because of one absurd misunderstanding, he chose to cheat on me as payback—and even let his mistress get pregnant without a flicker of guilt. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I just smiled and tricked him into signing the divorce papers, ready to disappear from his world for good. But I never expected that his best friend, Lucian, had been waiting for me in the shadows all along. I used to think he was gloomy, that he hated me. I never knew that he had loved me for fifteen years like a madman. When Damian finally realized his mistake and got down on his knees begging me to come back, he found me locked in Lucian's arms. Damian stared at his former best friend, almost unhinged: "She's my wife! You went behind my back and took my brother's woman—do you have any morals?!" Lucian just flung the signed divorce certificate in his face, and smiled—cold, and utterly possessive: "I'm chasing my own wife. What morals do I need?" "And watch your filthy mouth. From now on, you call her Mrs. Kane."

Everyone knew that Daniel Cardea kept the most obedient mistress. I had no temper, no dignity, and no spine. I stayed ready to kneel at his feet. This lawyer, the best in all of Silverton, trapped the rest of my life with a single contract. He felt certain that no law could help me break it. He was right. The law governed the living, not the dead. On his 30th birthday, I planned to give him a carefully prepared gift. I planned to end this indefinite contract with my heart once it stopped beating. February 16, 2026. It was three days until Daniel’s birthday, three days until the surprise arrived.

I can see flowers blossoming around a person when they fall in love. The stronger their love, the more beautiful the flowers. When Ann Liston proposed to me when I was 22, 99 white camellias had blossomed around my feet, stretching down the whole street. Seven years later, the flowers began to wither. Even so, she insisted that love always fades anyway, whereas companionship and responsibility were far more precious. That was why she no longer sneaked kisses when I'm asleep, but still came home punctually every day. That was why she no longer prepared surprises for me, but added my name into every estate. Even if work was busy, she'd spare a whole day for me every month. I was convinced that this was the ideal form of marriage too. Until three months ago, when she was caught in an avalanche in the mountains. It was the rescue team medic Martin Irwin who dug through layers of snow to reach her, carrying her down the mountains on his back when she was barely breathing. Once she made a full recovery, she spent $3,000,000 setting up a fund for rescuers, claiming that it was to repay her life debt to Martin. I never thought much of it…until our seventh wedding anniversary. We were once again in the restaurant where we had our first date on our anniversary. Halfway through it, Martin came to our table. Dressed casually, he smiled, "What a coincidence, Ms. Liston." Ann stood up, politely shaking his hand with a calm expression and demure mannerisms. In a split second, countless roses bloomed wildly around her feet, covering every inch of the restaurant. They were so much more radiant than the white camellias that had bloomed for me.

After I, Rosalie Ricci, was stood up 17 times, the mafia don, Daniel Marino, finally holds the perfect engagement banquet for me. In our second year together, we are ready to get married. But every single time, he has an excuse to hold our engagement off. He says he's busy with work, the timing isn't right yet, or that he isn't quite ready. I never blame him because I love him. I have loved him since our school days. In fact, I have loved him for seven whole years. This is the 18th time. I stand in the banquet hall wearing the gown he personally chose for me and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He kisses me with a passionate intensity he has never shown me before. At that moment, I believe that I have finally secured my perfect happiness after waiting seven long years. My happiness only lasts until the guests leave. As I step into the back garden, I see Daniel holding my twin sister, Leah Ricci, in his arms. He says in a hushed voice, "I announced my engagement to Rosalie 18 times. This time, you're finally back." That's when I realize that the engagement banquet that I have longed for is nothing more than a ploy by Daniel to draw Leah back to him. But when I decided to let them be together, Daniel panics.

Five years after I broke up with my childhood sweetheart, Jason Thorne, my ALS progressed to its terminal stage. Since I can't receive any treatment for my disease at all, I decide to fly back to my hometown and wait for my death to come. Meanwhile, Jason has been dating a woman named Freya Tyler for five years. In fact, they are about to get married. Freya is even pregnant with Jason's child. We bump into each other in the hospital's garden. When Jason sees the blanket around my shoulders, he scoffs at me. "You're already this weak, and yet you're here all alone. It seems that your doctor boyfriend isn't taking good care of you at all. Then again, you did cheat on me with that guy. It only makes sense that your new relationship won't end well at all." Freya smiles brightly at me. "That's enough, Jason. It's not like everyone is capable of taking care of me very well, just like you do. "Our wedding will be held at the base of a snow mountain in Selvaria. You simply must attend our wedding, Ms. Moyer." As I gaze at Jason's cold and arrogant expression, I do my best to suppress my feelings of longing and guilt. Instead, I reply calmly, "No, thank you. I'm not interested in my ex-boyfriend's life. I'm only staying here for a short while. In the future, I will never come back ever again." Jason merely huffs before turning on his heel and walking away. But when I depart from this world, he loses his will to live too.

Winter came again, and my husband and son broke out in rashes the moment the cold settled in. No doctor identified the allergen. To keep themselves safe, they drew a hard line and moved to a separate house for the season. It did not matter that I slipped and cracked my head open, or that I ended up in the hospital after a car accident. I fought every battle alone. We became strangers who shared a family name, and I became the thing that could kill them. I endured the bitter cold by myself, lonely and aching. I counted the days hoping that spring would bring my family back to me, until I overheard a conversation I was never meant to hear. "Daddy, we only get to see Daphne in winter. Cannot the allergies last a little longer?" Daphne Bullman, my husband's childhood sweetheart. My husband ruffled our son's hair. "All that allergy medicine is not good for you, and Daphne would worry. I will bring you to see her when I can." My son clapped his hands. "Yay! I love the mango candy Daphne gives me in winter, and I get to see her!" Mango. That was the fatal allergen I spent years keeping out of my son's reach. I stood in the freezing wind for a long time before I quietly walked home. Spring returned, and I stopped caring. "Eat whatever you want. If you think I am abusing you, call the police. I do not want custody anyway."

We'd planned a dream elopement photoshoot in Montana, but just before the trip, I came down with a severe case of acute gastroenteritis. My fiancé, Wallace Romano, looked at me with concern. "Then we'll all stay home. What's the point of going without our leading lady?" My best friend, Wallace's younger sister, and the rest of our friends all agreed. I thought I'd found my fairy-tale romance and a circle of friends who would stand by me for life. Then, while borrowing Wallace's tablet to watch a show, I accidentally opened a shared cloud album. The latest photo showed Wallace passionately kissing his ex-girlfriend, Emma Berry, beneath enormous flags in the Alps. All the friends who'd insisted they couldn't enjoy the trip without me were right there, cheering them on. "Wallace and Emma finally got their happy ending. Talk about a perfect romantic finale." "Without Miley around to ruin the mood, Emma has been so much happier." "She probably still thinks we're all staying home. We didn't even book her a plane ticket. Emma's the one who got one." "And that stomach bug? Apparently, Wallace left a glass of juice sitting out for two days just so she'd drink it." Their familiar voices washed over me, and my blood ran cold. If I wasn't the leading lady in Wallace's love story, it was time for me to find a leading man of my own.

My wife had such a compassionate heart that she brought the young homeless man outside our apartment home for dinner, then demanded I give up my room so he could stay there. She spent the entire down payment I had saved on designer clothes for him and took him to five-star restaurants. She said she was only helping him and told me not to be so petty. Then, I got sick and ended up in the hospital. I called my wife and asked her to use the emergency funds in our bank account to pay for my surgery. She agreed right away. Despite that, I waited an entire day and missed the surgery, and the doctor told me I had only one month left to live. She never brought the money. Instead, I saw the photos she had posted on social media during her travels. My wife leaned against the homeless man in front of a famous landmark, smiling like she had everything she wanted. The caption read, "Wyatt said he's never been to any famous landmarks, so even if I have to spend every last cent, I'm going to take him around the world so he won't have any regrets. Also, someone was so afraid I'd spend money on Wyatt that he lied about being sick. He has no compassion at all!" Only then did I realize her so-called sympathy was just an excuse for falling for someone else. In that case, I did not want her anymore.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Simon Heath, I finally walk away from him after his 32nd mistress shows up at my door. I join a classified government program and disappear from his world. Now he's falling apart and calling me non-stop. "Lily, I was wrong. Please come back." In the past, a single word of apology from him would have been enough to make me stay. But not this time. This time, he's bound to be disappointed.

My husband, Jacob Morris, wrongly believed that I had pushed the woman he loved down the stairs. So, he locked me in the basement to make me reflect on my actions. He hired people to punish me, trying to break my spirit. I suffered inhumane torture. My tendons were cut, and my face was disfigured. Four years later, he finally remembered me and let me out. But by then, I was too broken to love him anymore.

When I was 15, a thug outside our school swung a club at Trevor Jenson, and I took the hit for him. When I woke up, I had the mind of a five-year-old and could only call him Trevvy. He tore up his college acceptance letter on the spot and pulled me into his arms. "Don't be scared, Tessa. I'll marry you someday and take care of you for the rest of my life." Ten years later, Trevor goes out to eat and secretly arranges for me to eat in the private dining room next door. I'm on my third crab cake when I hear his mother sigh. "You can't spend your whole life taking care of a girl like her." Giselle Winslow says softly, "I don't mind. As long as I'm the one you love." Trevor doesn't answer. But when he gets home, he washes the travel mug Giselle gave him three times and sets it on his nightstand. That night, after being silent for so long, the system suddenly speaks in my ear. "Your last chance to leave this world is in seven days." "If I leave, can Trevvy get married?" I ask. "Yes." I'm so happy I don't sleep a wink. I practice writing my name 20 times because I want to leave him a goodbye note. But at a family dinner the next day, I mistake the scarf Giselle gave him for a rag and use it to wipe up some spilled soup. Trevor slams his bowl down in front of everyone. "Tessa, are you really that stupid, or are you just trying to embarrass me?" I clutch the wet scarf and stare at him blankly. "I won't embarrass you anymore after I leave."

After graduation, my girlfriend, Ada Tyler, drove me home to meet my parents. Except Owen—my little brother—had already claimed the front seat. He flashed me a smug grin. "You cool with that, Jace?" Ada sighed. "He gets carsick. He needs the front. Can you sit in back? Please?" At a rest stop, I got in line for her favorite iced Americano. When I came back, the car was gone. All I had was a voicemail. "Owen's stomach hurts. I'm taking him to the hospital. Find your own way home." Behind her, Owen was laughing. Rain came down hard. Three buses and five hours later, I finally made it home. The second I reached the door, Dad laughed. "Ada, you really know how to take care of people. Owen would be lucky to marry you." Mom patted her shoulder. "You're exactly the kind of woman I want for my son." I pushed the door open. The whole room went dead silent.

Maude Ellington's fiance sends a message to his first love before their wedding. "You've always been the one I wanted to marry." With their wedding fast approaching, Maude watches him meticulously plan every detail with his first love in mind. She quietly lets it all go. Because she no longer wants the wedding. And she no longer wants him.

Lucius personally handed the vampires' only sacred mark of the First Embrace to his human secretary, Vivian. Every vampire in the room was waiting to see me humiliated. But I simply raised my glass and calmly wished her eternal life. Lucius's face darkened. He crushed the glass in his hand. Six years ago, the vampire council forced me to sign a contract: Bear an heir within two years: receive the First Embrace and three hundred million. Bear one within four years: receive fifty million. If no child after six years, I must allow my husband to take another partner. When Lucius found out, he demanded with bloodshot eyes whether I'd slept beside him for love, or for the vampires' immortality and wealth. To punish my greed, he kept Vivian by his side, bringing her everywhere, giving her all the dignity that should have been mine. He was certain I feared aging and death. As long as he held the right to grant the First Embrace, I would beg. But he didn't know the last line of the council's contract was perfectly clear. After six years without pregnancy, the human partner must leave vampire territory forever. There were only seven days left until the six-year deadline.

The night I confessed my love to my girlfriend, she wept so hard she could barely breathe. She said she had seen the future, and she wanted to make a promise with me. I asked her why. She only shook her head and said, "I don't remember… all I know is that in the future I regret something terribly. Frank, no matter what happens, you must give me three chances. Will you?" I was deeply in love with Agnes Grey, so I agreed without hesitation. But later, it was as if she had forgotten all about that night—forgotten it when she clung so intimately to her male assistant. Only then did I understand why she'd made me promise that all those years ago. Because the moment I signed my name on the divorce papers, I heard a familiar voice. It was Agnes at nineteen. Through her sobs, she pleaded, "Frank… you promised me, didn't you? You said you'd give me three chances."

For our ninety-ninth engagement ceremony, Julian booked us a skydive. He said he wanted to tell me he loved me at thirty thousand feet. My chute didn't open. I got tangled in a big tree. I survived, yet suffered multiple fractures all over my body. In the ward, I accidentally saw a message on the screen of our jump instructor's phone. It was addressed to Julian, and it carried a video. The video showed someone tampering with my chute before we boarded. So the "accident" was Julian's idea? I dragged myself out of bed on crutches, every bone in my body screaming, ready to confront him. I made it as far as the hallway. He was already there, talking to someone, and the moment I saw the other man, the floor tilted under me. The man across from him was the same driver who'd hit me with his car the night before our last engagement. The hit-and-run that should have killed me. "Mr. Veil, if you ever need me again, please reach out." Julian's voice was flat, almost tired. "There won't be a next time. I've tried everything I can think of. The engagement can't be postponed anymore." "And the woman you actually love, sir?" "I'll keep loving her," Julian said. "But Ada is the one I marry. Her mother gave my father a kidney. That's the debt. I have to pay it." I stood there shaking, and the truth rearranged itself behind my eyes. The camping trip he had planned, where I got lost and nearly died of hypothermia in the woods. That had been him. The vitamin C he had handed me, the one that put me in the ICU. Him too. And this time — the skydive, thirty thousand feet, “I want the sky to witness our love”. All of it. Every single one of those accidents was him trying to delay the wedding. But Julian, I thought, I could save you the trouble. The next morning I accepted an offer that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks: an invitation from a world-class orchestra on the other side of the planet.

While I'm folding my girlfriend Lucinda Fowler's clothes, she suddenly says, "You're actually pretty pathetic. In fact, you're even more embarrassing than a simp." My hands pause. Just as I'm about to argue back, she cuts me off. "Sure, you love me. Moreover, you're diligent, dependable, and take great care of me. But sometimes you just can't compare to Owen. Anyone could do what you do. In short, you're nowhere near Owen's level." It suddenly occurs to me that a month ago, her ex-boyfriend, Owen Boyd, invited her to a concert. However, I decline on her behalf. Even to this day, she still holds it against me. I throw her clothes on the floor and turn to walk away. As it happens, my supervisor, Eve Hoffman, is asking me to go with her to the overseas branch. I turn it down for Lucinda's sake. But the moment I really walk away and clear the path for Owen, why does Lucinda cry and plead for me to return?

After Graduation, I Married Lucas Bellmont, the Hottest Star Captain in American Hockey. Three years into our marriage, he suddenly became obsessed with my body, a complete 180 from his usual cold demeanor. He wanted me night after night, saying he wanted us to have a child. Despite the ache in my body, my heart swelled with sweetness. I thought he'd finally accepted me. At a gala, I shared the news with my best friend—Lucas's adopted sister, Clara. She ran off in tears. Lucas, usually so composed, went pale. He lashed out at me for saying such things in front of Clara, then left without a second thought. I followed, worried, and found them locked in an embrace. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have married her. If it weren't for your pregnancy, I wouldn't be touching her now." "Everything I'm doing—making her have the baby quickly so we can swap it with ours—it's all for our future. So our child can be the rightful heir." "Clara, just hold on a little longer, okay?" Lucas's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. All for another woman. His adopted sister. My so-called best friend. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I turned around and called my lawyer for a divorce agreement. Since he'd never loved me. In seven days, I'd be gone from his life for good.

I was an Ageless. Many years ago, because of nothing more than a single loaf of bread, I became indebted to Sheila Johnson in a way I could never escape. The only way to find my way home was to grant 100 of her wishes. Her very first wish was for me to become her lover. To repay that debt, I stayed by her side without ever asking for a name or a promise. I taught her what it meant to love, and I shared countless long nights with her until our lives became inseparable. For the next three years, every wish she made was astonishingly simple. She only wanted to see me smile a little more. Then, during the annual Winter Festival, she released hundreds of glowing lights into the night sky. They drifted ever higher, shimmering across the heavens like a river of fallen stars. As she watched the breathtaking display, she whispered her 96th wish. "May we never part from each other." Yet only a few days later, she ordered every trace of my existence at Johnson Manor erased before casting me out of the estate. As I stood alone in the middle of a raging snowstorm, I heard her casually speaking to her friends as though I had never mattered at all. "Whatever you do, don't let Keith find out that I once confessed my feelings to another man. "You all know Keith has always been the one I loved. If he hadn't been sent to the neighboring kingdom as a hostage when we were still children, I never would have needed someone else to take his place. "Now that the king of the neighboring kingdom is dead, I've already arranged for Keith to fake his death and return safely. This time, I'm going to marry him. I won't let myself have any regrets."