Mistress Melodramatic Short Stories & Novels

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."

My wife's the captain of an ocean freighter, spending ten months of every year at sea. I've always trusted her completely, though I have one quiet habit nobody notices. Every time her ship docks for resupply, I invite the first mate's husband out for a couple of drinks. The first mate is the silent type, but her husband talks too much and can't hold his liquor. We chat about everyday life, what goes on aboard, and by the third round, he leans in close and says, "Your wife's so romantic. Last month when the ship docked in Beauhaven, she found a local craftsman to custom-make a full set of wave-patterned men's accessories. "A watch, cufflinks, tie clip, the works. She even had them sent back on the supply ship. I'm honestly jealous." I say quietly, "Really? I never got anything like that." I don't push it, and he's smart enough to change the subject. That night at home, I open the voyage ledger. On the Beauhaven supply manifest, the delivery address listed next to the accessories isn't mine. The storms at sea never end. It's time for me to get off this ship.

For a full decade, my billionaire husband and my best friend were locked in a vicious feud. Jordan Skinner had deliberately run Giselle Parson over with his car, shattering her leg. In retaliation, Giselle had smashed a baseball bat into his head, leaving him deaf in one ear. I rushed around to care for them and bitterly pleaded with them to stop fighting. Ironuton's high society laughed about it behind our backs—the all-powerful CEO and the proud heiress tearing the city apart, with pathetic little me trapped helplessly in the middle. After yet another heated argument, they abandoned me on a remote mountain during a camping trip. A passing drifter found me and brutally assaulted me. When they finally located me, Jordan flew into a rage and broke the man's legs, while Giselle crushed his groin. They held me tightly and wept, swearing a truce on the spot. From then on, they joined forces to spoil me, turning me into the happiest woman in Ironuton. On our third anniversary, I prepared chicken soup and carried it to Jordan's office. Through the narrow crack, I saw Giselle straddling him, moving with raw desire. "These past few years... I only ever feel anything when it's with you, Jordan," she said, her voice dripping with lust. "That night, when Jane was being tortured by that drifter on the mountain, we were down in the valley cabin using this same position, weren't we?" Jordan smacked her backside, warning, "Shut up, Giselle. We owe her. If you let her find out the truth, I'll show you no mercy." The thermos slipped from my fingers and crashed to the floor. Jordan froze mid-motion and looked up to see me standing there.

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

Before our graduation trip, three of my childhood friends and my boyfriend all come to me, one after another, asking to borrow money. Drake Owens claims he needs it for his startup, Evans Harding says his mother has been hospitalized, and Finley Booker mentions an overdue credit card bill. Finally, my boyfriend, Boaz Marshall, takes the money I had spent three years saving for my heart surgery. With reddened eyes, he says, "I only need it for two weeks, Ari. I swear on my life that I won't let it interfere with your surgery at all." Then came the day my heart condition flared up again. The doctor slams my test results onto the table and says in a grave voice, "You can't put this off any longer, Ms. Dawson. You need to pay the hospital fees and get admitted immediately." But after lending out 260 thousand dollars, I'm only left with 327 bucks in my bank account. I call each of them, but they all claim the funds haven't come through yet and ask me to wait a little longer. I pass by a travel agency on my way home. Through the glass, I see Boaz, Drake, Evans, and Finley gathered around my best friend, Cindy Myers, planning a trip to the Northern Pole. Five plane tickets are spread out on the table. "Who would have thought that this would be the trick that worked after all? We just had to drain her of all her cash, and she wouldn't be able to pester us to tag along anymore." "Arianna has a bad heart. She'll only be nothing but a burden. It's better just to leave her at home." "Exactly. This trip is for Cindy's birthday. There's no reason to let one person ruin the mood for everyone else." After a brief burst of laughter, someone asks, sounding a bit hesitant, "But that was money for her heart surgery. What if she has an attack in the next few days?" Boaz hands a brochure for a mountain resort to Cindy, completely unconcerned. "She's lived with that condition for years. It's not like something's going to coincidentally happen right now when we're away. We'll just pay her back once we return from the trip." Boaz happens to look up just then, facing the window. The moment he sees me, however, the smile on his face freezes.

My mother-in-law and I were trapped during an earthquake overseas. The rescue team knew that my husband had a private plane nearby and asked me to contact him, but I could only shake my head in rejection of the idea. In my last life, I tried my hardest to call him and get him to come save us. My mother-in-law and I were saved, but my husband’s true love got angry and went out to let off some steam. The incident ended with her being tortured to death. In front of his mother, my husband said that his lover deserved it. Yet, on the anniversary of her death, he killed me the way she had died. “I’ve always known that it was your scheme. You have to die as Shevonne did!” This time round, when my husband took his lover on a private plane to admire the cityscape at night, he found out everything that had happened and went mad.

My mom couldn't forget about her first love at all, so she switched me with her first love's son when we were born. Thanks to her, I was forced to suffer during the first 20 years of my life before I finally got to reunite with my actual family and become a rich scion. When it's time for me to choose a wife, my top priority is to find myself a woman with a romantic history as clean as a sheet. Leah Hudson is that very woman. She's a police captain who's fearsome, intimidating, and isn't interested in men at all. But when I confess my feelings to her, she goes bright red in embarrassment. "Melvin, you're the first man I've gotten with, so you must take responsibility for me till the very end." I lap Leah's words up, thinking that I've finally met my true love. That is, until Dexter Caldwell, the fake scion, returns to the country. As I stand outside my new marital home, I witness Leah embracing Dexter while wailing. "Why did you tell me to lie to him? Why did you ask me to marry him? The thing is, Dexter, you're my first love!"

Seven years into our marriage, my husband Theo ordered me an Americano, the way he always did. Except I'd just told him, again, that caffeine made me sick. The moment I opened my mouth to say something, his phone rang. He stood up and walked out without a word of explanation. Half an hour later, Lydia posted to her socials. "Thanks to a certain someone for taking time out of his insane schedule to fix my plumbing. Also, the fresh hot cocoa was incredible." The comments filled up with people gushing over her. Steam curled off the mug in the photo. It made the drink in my hand feel even colder. Lydia and Theo had grown up together. Seven years ago, within months of each other, they'd both rushed into marriage. The difference was that Lydia had married a man who hit her. Night after night, Theo would peel himself away from me and run off to defend her. Sometimes he'd fought with her husband and end up at the police station. It happened more than once. I used to think it was just his sense of justice, so I always cleaned up after him and smoothed things over. Now I could see it for what it was. He'd given so much of his attention to someone else that all I got were the leftovers, neglect and a cold shoulder. Fine. This love had already gone cold. I didn't want it anymore.

The day the company is exposed for accounting fraud, my wife, Megan Grant, immediately holds a press conference to protect Liam Johnson. She shifts all the blame onto me, publicly declaring that I will be punished by the law. Liam puts on an act of heartbreak, saying, "Flynn, I warned you a long time ago that you can't just take the company's money. Why didn't you listen?" My coworkers stare at me in disbelief, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smile, take responsibility for everything, and resign. Megan thinks I've finally come to my senses and quietly promises me, "Once this blows over, I'll find a way to get your position back. I'll also tell everyone about our marriage. Consider it my way of making it up to you." However, there's one thing she doesn't know. In order to protect the company's interests, the chairman ordered me to install monitoring software on all the company's computers on the day we opened our doors. Once he retrieves those system logs, their lies will fall apart! When the truth comes to light, they won't just be facing massive financial fines; they'll be facing prison time too!

For ten years, I stood beside Adrian Shaw while he clawed his way up from nothing to a nine-figure fortune. In all that time, he never once took me anywhere that cost more than twenty dollars a head. On the eve of our tenth anniversary, I sent him a link to the steakhouse I'd been saving for years. His expression darkened. "Just because we have money now doesn't mean we can forget how hard life can get. Thrift is a virtue, Nora. Don't lose it." I thought he had a point, so I nodded and agreed to cancel the reservation. Then, on the day I went to the restaurant to cancel it, I saw Adrian across the dining room, having dinner with a girl. He cut her steak for her, then reached over and gently wiped a streak of sauce from the corner of her mouth. I knew her. Chloe Foster, the company's newest intern. Twenty-one years old. "Mr. Shaw, I can't finish all this," Chloe said. "What a waste." "If it made you happy, it wasn't wasted." Adrian gazed at her with open tenderness. "We can box up the rest for Nora." "But those are my leftovers." He chuckled. "It's fine. Nora was with me when we had nothing. She isn't picky." Chloe smiled at that. "So she got the hard years, and I get the good ones?" Adrian said nothing for a long moment. Then he murmured, "Yes." I tightened my grip on the reservation slip, my nails digging into my palm, and I didn't feel a thing. The hostess beside me lowered her voice. "Ms. Wells, tables are in high demand right now. Are you sure you want to cancel?" I swallowed the bitterness burning in my throat. "No," I said. "Keep the table—and bring me the most expensive meal you serve.”

My husband, Gunther Lane, was strict about his boundaries. I was not allowed to touch him without asking first. The last time I went to a party with his friends, I instinctively took his arm because I felt dizzy after drinking a little. "Let go." Gunther shook me off as though I had electrocuted him, then took a large step back in front of everyone. "I told you not to touch me without permission. Can't you show a little dignity?" I stood frozen with embarrassment while his friends looked at me, clearly amused. In the end, I fled home alone. But last week at the mall, I had seen him walking with Chloe Davies, the new intern. Because she was not used to wearing heels, she twisted her ankle and fell straight into his arms. He said nothing and did not push her away. Instead, he bent down and picked her up, his eyes full of worry. That was when I understood. His boundaries were meant for outsiders like me. I did not interrupt them. I simply applied for a place in a study program abroad. If I couldn't get past his boundaries, I'd leave for a country without him and set my love free.

I was four months pregnant when I discovered that my husband had fallen for our young family helper. He dropped to his knees and started slapping himself repeatedly with such force that blood rolled down from the corner of his mouth. He sobbed, swearing it was just a drunken mistake, swearing to me he'd never see her again. Thinking of the baby growing inside me, my heart softened, and I tore the divorce papers. The day I went into labor, I suffered serious complications. The baby was stillborn, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He didn't even get the chance to cry. I was drowning in grief, but then my husband walked into the delivery room holding the family helper's baby in his arms. "Don't be sad, Kelda. She's willing to let you raise her child." My anger ran so deep that I bit my lip until it bled. It was all my fault! I had been treating him too well all these years. He had completely forgotten what I, Kelda Shaw, was really capable of.

Three days before my wedding, I found out that Shane Dawson had changed the venue from Grandma Mae’s home in the South to Castillo de Sol, the Spanish castle that Tania Collins, his childhood sweetheart, adored. I confronted him, only to overhear him complaining to his friend, "Thank God Tania has taste. Otherwise, I’d be laughed at for life." His friend reminded him, "Didn’t you promise her you’d hold the ceremony at her grandmother’s house? Aren’t you afraid she’ll get angry and refuse to marry you?" Shane just laughed, sharp and dismissive. "The Quinns are on the verge of bankruptcy. Marrying me is her only way out. She can’t afford to gamble. I’ve already asked the planner to call her. She’s probably scrambling to change her flight right now." Anger and humiliation burned in my chest. I bit down on my lip and, in the end, turned away. Three days later, the castle wedding went on as scheduled, but I didn’t reschedule my flight. I didn’t show up. Instead, I stood in Grandma Mae’s old courtyard and exchanged rings with another man. To this day, Shane doesn’t understand. I never married him for some so-called escape route. I married him for a love that lasted ten years. However, once the dream was over, it was time for me to choose a different path.

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night. Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police. Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox. "My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited." When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week. "All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives." My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room. With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?" I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."

My best friend, Billy Steele, gets jilted at the altar by his heartless fiancée, Megan Landry. In tears, he begs my fiancée, Anna Faulkner, to step in and save the day. Anna reassures me, "Craig, Billy and I have known each other since childhood. We're closer than friends. Today's wedding is just a formality. You and I are getting married next week anyway, so think of this as a chance to get familiar with the wedding proceedings." For the sake of our friendship, I grit my teeth and nod in agreement. I watch as Anna, who is supposed to be a bridesmaid, becomes Billy's bride instead. Eyes brimming with love, Anna loops her arm through Billy's during the ceremony. When the officiant asks if she is willing to marry Billy, she answers with even more conviction than she does when I propose to her. I keep reassuring myself that it's all just an act and that I shouldn't take it seriously. But after they exchange rings, the officiant smiles and announces, "The groom may now kiss the bride." The guests immediately erupt into cheers and urge them to kiss. Billy pounds his chest and promises me, "Craig, don't worry. We'll just fake the kiss with a clever angle." I take him at his word. But in the very next second, Anna rises onto her tiptoes and pulls Billy into a deep, passionate kiss right in front of everyone.

Graham Mercer was allergic to cats, but he kept one anyway. And somehow, that cat always seemed to matter more to him than I did. When I crashed my e-bike and called him, he said he was busy cleaning the litter box. When the cat bit me, he took her straight to the vet before even checking on me, worried that I'd exposed her to germs. The day I lost my job, he casually tipped the pet sitter $1,437. That night, I scanned the QR code on the cat's collar. A photo popped up showing a young couple cuddling the cat. That was when I realized the pet sitter who kept coming over was Graham's ex. And the cat? She was theirs, too. They had raised her together back when they were dating. I closed the page, unblocked my own ex, and sent him a message. Me: [If you want to get back together, then try to win me over properly. Getting me fired is a pretty pathetic way to do it.]

My infertile wife, Quinn Hart, finally gets pregnant after seven years of marriage. But our baby boy is diagnosed with a rare disease shortly after being born. In order to treat our child's disease, Quinn and I have sold everything we own. Alas, we still aren't able to gather enough money to save him. Left without a choice, I can only take on jobs far away from home. Since Quinn is left penniless, she and our child are forced to room with other people. One day, I receive a work order that comes with lucrative rewards. Apparently, I'm required to clean windows on a tall building. Coincidentally, the address points to the building where Quinn is rooming with others. I slowly descend to the window, hoping to give Quinn a surprise. But that's when I notice the boisterous atmosphere inside that particular room. I notice Quinn holding our baby boy with one hand while her other hand is intertwined with another man. "Everyone, meet my husband whom I'm secretly married to for many years, Chester Langston. Today is our moving day as well as the celebration party for our son. "Thank you for attending the grand occasion. We'd like to toast to you in order to show our gratitude." I feel my blood freezing in my veins at that moment. Meanwhile, Quinn is typing away on her phone a short distance away. The next thing I know, I hear my phone chiming once. It seems that a new text has appeared on the screen. "Honey, I'm already pinching pennies just by sharing the same bed with other people with our son. But the thing is, I don't have enough money to last the month…" I can hear Quinn's "husband" teasing her with a soft chuckle through the open window. "So, this is how you've been lying to him, huh?" Quinn just smiles at him casually. "I did everything out of love for you, didn't I? In fact, I've been pretending to be infertile for seven long years just so I can keep my promise to you. And now, I'm pretending to be poor to the point that I keep telling Nicholas that I'm sharing a bed with strangers every day."

In the third year after my death, my wife, a lawyer named Serena Collier, wants me to take the blame and go to prison for her first love, Declan Merritt, once again. She arrives at my hometown carrying a confession statement she prepared, only to discover the place has long since fallen into ruin. Feeling panicked, she has no choice but to ask the neighbors where I am. My neighbor says, "You're asking about Fletcher Whitmore? He's been dead for a long time! I hear that a victim's family hunted him down for revenge and beat him to death after he got out of prison." Serena refuses to believe it. She thinks that my neighbor is in cahoots with me to deceive her. With a disgusted expression, she lets out a cold snort. She sneers, "All I did was put him behind bars for a few years. Now, he even dares to lie to me! "Tell him this for me—if he doesn't show up in court that day, he can forget about me giving another cent to his mother in the mental hospital!" After saying that, she storms off angrily. Watching her stubborn figure disappear into the distance, my neighbor sighs heavily. "But his mother already starved to death in that mental hospital a long time ago…"

At eight months pregnant, Esther Rivera went to the mall to buy a duffle bag and stock up on supplies she would need when she went into labor. She was once again mistaken for a mistress and was assaulted by Summer Moreno. To protect the baby in her belly, she could not fight back at all. Summer grabbed her hair and slapped her several times, even nearly tearing off her clothes. At her wit’s end, Esther called the police. Both of them were taken to the police station. Each of them claimed to be Jasper Clarke’s wife The police officer, John Hayward, called Jasper to verify the truth. When Jasper learned about this, he went to the police station. Summer swiftly took out a mirror to touch up her makeup before looking at Esther smugly and saying, “Esther, do you think Jasper will say I’m his wife just to protect me? “I bet he will.”

In Willow Creek, there is an unspoken rule about wedding processions: never retrace your route. But on the day we are supposed to get married, my fiancee, Emma Carter, orders our entire wedding procession to turn around and drive more than 12 miles back the way we've come—just to catch up with another wedding convoy. I am about to get out and demand an explanation when I overhear Emma talking to one of her bridesmaids, Lena Williams. "You drove more than 60 miles just to make it to Ryan's wedding," Lena says. "That's some serious dedication." Then she glances nervously in my direction. "And now you're making us turn around? Aren't you worried Nathan's going to be pissed?" Emma continues directing the drivers to turn the procession around. "Don't worry. He's waited ten years for me. No matter how angry he gets, he'll never actually call off the wedding. "If my family hadn't pressured me so much, I wouldn't have agreed to marry him this easily. "Ryan's biggest wish has always been to marry me, and that's not going to happen now. So turning back to see him off for part of the journey is the least I can do. It's a small way of making up for all those years he spent chasing after me." When the matching wedding bands slip from my hand and disappear beneath the seat, I let out a bitter laugh. So much for finally getting our happy ending after all those years of hardship. Apparently, that is only wishful thinking on my part. I pull out my phone, open my messaging app, and send a woman my location. "Are you still planning to marry me? I'm waiting for you here. Come. Now."