Melodramatic Short Stories & Mistress Regret Novels

Ten years ago, I found Barrett Sloan on the Laningarde waterfront. I limped from door to door, begging for scraps, and managed to nurse him back from the brink. Later, he grew ambitious and began venturing into the rough harbor districts behind my back. During the day, he hauled cargo on the docks; at night, he bounced at underground casinos—all to scrape together money for my leg surgery. When I found out, I pounded his shoulder in fury. "Are you out of your mind? We can barely pay rent, and you're talking about fixing my leg?" He just gave a goofy grin. "You deserve to shine on the dance floor, not stay trapped in a wheelchair." He took beatings as a sparring dummy, fought in illegal bouts, and even took a bullet for a mob boss. That cold-blooded ruthlessness eventually earned him a spot as the rising star of the powerful Veragard gang. Then, two pieces of news hit the docks at once: he finally had the money to fix my leg, and he was marrying the gang boss's daughter.

My parents were stranded in the middle of a blistering desert—no water, temperatures through the roof—while my wife, Michelle Reid, was three miles away building a splash park for her buddy Teddy Williams's dog. By the time I found them, they had already died of thirst. Their bodies were decomposing in the sun. I called Michelle, livid. She brushed it off like it was nothing. "I told you I was in a meeting. They're just lacking a little water. Relax." Then she added, "If they're still alive, don't give them any water. Let Teddy 'stumble' onto them during his livestream—he can hand them a bottle on camera. It'll be great for his numbers." She paused awhile before continuing, "And if they're already dead? Say Teddy found them. Makes his survivalist act look more legit." I laughed—because every word out of her mouth was for Teddy. But she didn't realize: the ones who died of thirst were her parents—my in-laws.

Brandon Smith has flown for eight years. I've been with him since the time he was an assistant pilot, all the way until he successfully rose to the ranks as the head pilot. In the year Brandon's busiest with his career, I resign from my job and begin cooking according to his aviation schedule. Just once, I bring up the question, "Can you please show me the sight of being thousands of feet in the air in the near future? Just once, please!" Brandon continues eating from his plate. "The plane is a workplace, not an amusement park for you." I reply, "Okay." Since then, I never bring up that matter in front of him. That is, until I find myself suffering from insomnia one night. That's when I accidentally come across an encrypted photo album tucked away in Brandon's phone. There are over 40 photos in the album, all from his perspective as a pilot. There are seas of clouds, sunsets, double rainbows after a downpour, as well as the Milky Way in the night sky when the plane is over thousands of feet in the sky. Every photo has been sent to the same person with a bear's emoji as their name. The latest photo is a photo of the beautiful evening colors from three days ago. Half of the sun can be seen in the clouds. The caption that comes with the photo says, "Today's sky is still beautiful as ever. When you come over next time, you can take the observation seat on the right. It gives you the best angle of the sky." The bear emoji person responds with a hugging emoji and a short sentence. "Wait for me to go on my break." I put Brandon's phone back where it belongs without changing the password and deleting the album. Once the morning sun is up, I brew myself some coffee as usual before finishing it quietly. Then, I turn on my computer and book myself a flight ticket to Dalco. It's been eight years. Finally, I don't have to chase after Brandon's flight routes and wait for his mealtimes. I no longer have to stay in an empty house while guessing which flight destination he's headed to right now. Since Brandon's sky refuses to tolerate my presence, I shall move my roots elsewhere and watch the sunset on my own.

On the day of our engagement, my fiance, Adrian Kinsley, and I are just about to exchange rings. His adopted younger sister, Sarah Nott, suddenly rushes onto the stage and exclaims, "She starred in porn movies, did you know that? How can you marry such a tainted woman?" All of our guests gasp in surprise. At first, everyone thinks it's some kind of prank. But in the next second, Sarah plays a video on the big screen and says, "The woman is quite the celebrity. She shoots more than 60 films a year, and her starting rate is 2,000 dollars per film." I stare at the face in the video that looks almost identical to mine. I'm stunned, as I'm the daughter of a crime boss with a fortune worth hundreds of billions. I casually hand out millions to my subordinates as rewards. Sell my body for 2,000 dollars? I have to be out of my mind to do that.

On my third year anniversary, I've whipped up a feast. Now I'm waiting for my wife, Cindy Kirk, to come home so that we can celebrate the occasion. But that's when I accidentally find out that Cindy has transferred the deed to our home to her brother-in-law, Andy Campbell. "Kevin will be attending elementary school next year. If he can't stay in a school-district property, which our home is, he won't be able to attend the school in this district! "Andy and Kevin have had it rough as it is! Do you have the heart to watch them live on the streets?" I just gaze at Cindy with a stony expression. Then, I ask her calmly, "Then what should we do if we lose our home?" Cindy is very satisfied with my attitude. She responds by passing me a blanket. "You should sleep on the shop's floor for the time being. I'll stay at home and take care of Andy and Kevin." After leaving my home, I head over to the court right away to file for a divorce. Since Cindy is greedy enough to have her cake and eat it, I'll make sure that she loses everything in her life!

At my best friend Grady's wedding, the bouquet landed right in my arms. Grady slid over, eyebrows bouncing. "Do you know how hard I worked to get Amanda as a bridesmaid? Dude, you've been into her for seven years. Go confess already." I froze, bouquet in hand. The thing Grady didn't know? Amanda Sheffield and I had been secretly dating for a year. I'd thought my years of pining had finally paid off. Then I told her we were done unless she bailed on the date her family set up. She just smiled, totally unbothered. "Ryder Reed, you've loved me for seven years. You really think you can walk away?" The memory cut out. Then Amanda came over, yanked the bouquet from my hands, and handed it to the guy beside her like it was nothing. She took one look at my face and lifted a brow, smug as hell. "See? You can't leave me."

In this canal town, if a guy wants to woo his sweetheart, he needs to build a boat with his own hands and make it his wedding boat. On my seventh year dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Declan Johnson, hosts a launch ceremony for his new boat. Those who are present at the ceremony cheer loudly. I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. When I'm about to board the boat, I hear Declan's friend murmuring to him, "Are you seriously giving the boat to Paige? Aren't you worried that Raelynn might pick a fight with you?" "Precisely! Raelynn is a temperamental one! What if you crossed a line?" The next moment, Declan's voice rings out—casual yet confident. "No way. Raelynn is completely wrapped around my finger. After all, she's madly in love with me. Besides, in this town, the fact that a woman doesn't get married by the age of 28 makes her a hag. There's no way she has the guts to start anything. "At the end of the day, I'm giving Raelynn a marriage certificate and Paige a wedding boat. This is a fair decision. In a way, it… it helps me to put an old regret to rest." So, Declan still has regrets just by marrying me, huh? Apparently, I'm also wrapped around his finger, and I'll become a hag soon. Those words hurt my ears. My throat closes up slightly, but I don't cry at all. Instead, I pull out my phone and send a text. "I'll listen to you, Mom. Since I'm already 28 years old, I'm no longer waiting for him."

Today is Morgan Franklin's 30th birthday. It also marks the day he brings up divorce in front of me for the 99th time. He doesn't sound guilty and tentative anymore, unlike his demeanor when he mentioned divorce for the first time. Instead, he has a cigarette dangling between his lips while looking at me mockingly. "I've already called the ambulance for you, Milana. Have you thought about how you're going to commit suicide this time? Are you slitting your wrist or overdosing on pills?" Everyone in the private room bursts out laughing. "I bet she's going down the sleeping pill route! She did that the last time, and she had to get her stomach pumped for three hours!" "Hell no! She's definitely jumping off a building this time! But she'll just wait for the firemen to lay out the safety mat before pretending to jump! She's not going to die at all!" "Nah… Ms. Brook is very creative when it comes to suicide. Every time she commits suicide, she always uses a different method!" Everyone is curious as to which suicide method I will use in order to get Morgan to stay this time. But when I notice the smiles on everyone's faces, I suddenly feel exhaustion weighing down on my soul. The anger that has been sustaining me for so long finally dissipates. I lower my gaze before stating calmly, "I'm not doing any of that. This time, I shall grant you your freedom."

At a party, my fiancee lost a round of Truth or Dare. Someone egged her on to list ten good things about my best friend. Olivia didn't hesitate for a second. "Outgoing, good-looking, fit, knows how to make you feel special. Always smiling, emotionally smart, capable, has great taste. And—he really knows how to brighten up a room." Next round, Dylan grinned and tossed the question back at her. "Alright, so what about Ethan? What's good about him?" Olivia turned to me, paused for a few seconds. In the end, she only came up with two words. "He's steady." Someone laughed, trying to smooth things over. "That's it? Anything else?" Olivia furrowed her brow, like she was actually giving it some real thought. But she couldn't come up with a second one. In the awkward silence, I suddenly felt exhausted. Olivia and I had been together for seven years. Our wedding was scheduled for next week. And yet, after thinking so hard, the only good thing she could find in me was that I was steady. This time, I didn't want to be the steady guy anymore.

After the 99th time Selina Roal stands me up for our pre-wedding photo shoot, I spot her pre-wedding photos with her blind first love, Felix Lont, on the large screen of the shopping mall. Suddenly finding it all so pointless, I agree to marry Luna Sanderson, the daughter of the wealthiest man in the city. In her joy, she buys an eight-million-dollar pinky ring from an auction and gifts it to me. Just when I think that I've finally found a good woman to spend the rest of my life with, I overhear her conversation with her best friend. "I knew that you weren't actually sincere about marrying Calvin Yangley! When do you plan to take action?" Luna answers coldly, "On the day of our wedding, I'll stage a balloon explosion to injure him. Then, I'll personally head the operation to take his eyes and transfer them to Felix. "I won't get to grow old with Felix in this life, so the least I could do is give him a wedding present and wish him a happy, healthy life." As it turns out, her love and devotion to me are all so that she can take my eyes. Even the act of marrying me is to clear the way for Felix. Immediately after that, I called the wedding studio. "Hello, I would like to cancel the wedding that will be taking place in seven days."

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife, Sienna Green, tricks our son, Noah Lewis, and me into entering a cryogenic pod. She plans to freeze us alive. As I slowly lose consciousness, I hear Sienna say to her assistant, Edwin Hoffman, "Fred's wife is dead. I've already promised him that I'll be his wife for ten years and bear him three sons. "Set up the program to ensure that Cameron and Noah only wake up after ten years. When the time comes, I'll return to them, and we can resume our life as a family." Ten years have passed. Noah is gone. When I wake up in the pod, I look at Sienna and call out to her, "Mommy."

The day I remarried Caitlyn Sullivan, the fake heir set my adoptive mother on fire and left her face burned beyond recognition. The moment I called the police, I was knocked unconscious. When I opened my eyes again, Caitlyn had personally replaced my face and made me take the blame for the fake heir. Three years later, on the day I was released from prison, Caitlyn's legal team was on standby around the clock. If there was even the slightest sign of revenge from me, they were ready to send me to a psychiatric hospital for another three years. My daughter even used money I had given her to build a 99-story safe house to hide the fake heir on the top floor. She named it Mason Tower. The fake heir was Mason Sheppard. They were terrified that I would hurt Mason in the slightest. But I disappeared from their lives as if I had never existed. The next time we met was in front of my food cart where I sold gourmet burgers. I lit the gas stove, casually wiped my oily hands on my apron, and skillfully sliced open buns. In a calm voice, I said, "A dollar for an extra egg, and two dollars for a spicy patty." Caitlyn's fingers trembled slightly. Her voice turned hoarse. "I'm allergic to eggs. Our daughter can't eat spicy food." She paused. "Did you forget?" I didn't need to remember. I only needed to remember that after selling 33 more burgers, I would have enough money to pay off the remaining balance for the grave next to my adoptive mother's.

Brandon Hayes had too many enemies, so he asked Hannah Foster to be his public girlfriend until every last one of them was dealt with. "Eleanor, I know this isn't fair to you. I promise we'll get married after I've taken care of all my enemies." I looked at Hannah with concern. "But won't this put her in danger?" Brandon's expression darkened. "I saved her life. She owes me this." The day Brandon proposed to me, I was just about to slip the ring onto my finger when a bullet came flying toward me. Hannah threw herself in front of me. The bullet tore into her abdomen, and blood immediately poured from the wound. The man who had been looking at me with such tenderness shoved me aside without a second glance. He scooped Hannah into his arms and rushed her to the hospital. I looked down at the blood running between my legs. I gritted my teeth and endured the pain as I hailed a cab. "Take me to the hospital."

At our company dinner, my girlfriend, Katherine Hale, makes a detour to get some treats. She hands a glass of juice to my childhood friend, Mark Langley, who is sitting opposite us. Then, she sets down a cup of yogurt in front of me. Mark thanks her with a smile. "How thoughtful of you! You remembered I can't have iced drinks because of my gastric issues." I stare at the cup of yogurt with mango bits in it. Then, I nudge it further away from me, my expression blank. "What's the matter?" Katherine asks casually. I respond, "I'm allergic to mangoes. Did you forget that again?" She freezes for a moment. Then, she smiles and shrugs. "Come on, it's no big deal. Just pick out the mango bits." But she never forgets that Mark doesn't want any cilantro or onion in his food. Also, he only accepts chilled juice without any ice or sugar. Meanwhile, I have difficulty breathing if I take even a single bite of mango, but she thinks it's fine as long as I pick them out. Turns out, if one is biased enough, they can overlook even matters of life and death. On our way home, I sit in the back seat as usual. I look at the two people in the front, who seem perfect for each other. All of a sudden, I feel relief washing over me. Katherine can't even remember my allergies, so what am I holding onto this relationship for?

My husband, a military colonel with whom I’d been married for ten years, was barred from entering our son’s funeral wake. Because before our son died, he made three final wishes. The first wish was not to tell his father about his death just yet, as he was afraid the news would upset him. Secondly, to cook his father’s favorite meal and let his father be there for his final birthday. Lastly, if his father were to miss his birthday, then under no circumstances—no matter what—never allow that man to appear before his grave. Even though the man’s eyes were bloodshot and his body was shaking as he cried his heart out in the torrential rain lashing outside the funeral home, I never let the man take a single step toward my son after his death. Three days earlier, after spending a whole night setting fireworks with my childhood friend and her son, Logan Pearce came home with a brand-new schoolbag. That was his idea of making up for missing our son’s birthday. The man frowned, puzzled by the tears in my eyes. “Isn’t it just one birthday? I’ll make it up to him next time, won’t I? Little did he know that our five-year-old son had already died from an asthma attack. The little boy would never live to see the first day of school.

I was with Grayson Redding when his phone lit up with a message that came out of nowhere. [I'm so much prettier now than I used to be. Want to see me?] "Another marketing text," he said. Before I could get a good look at it, he'd already tossed the phone aside and pulled me back into his arms. A month later, I saw another message from the same number. [Same place as last time?]

My lawyer husband, Evan Henderson, has sued me for the eighth time over the custody of our pet dog. During the trial, Evan finally yields to me by texting me on the phone. "You can name any condition you want as long as you agree to give the dog to Minnie." Evan used to be a fair and just person. After all, he stood by and watched my dad get framed and thrown into prison just to avoid any suspicion of favoritism. To think that he has gone ahead and fabricated up to 26 pieces of evidence just so he can help Minerva Henderson steal the custody of our pet dog… Not only has he fabricated the dog's birth certificate, but he's also forged the purchasing history of the dog. I refuse to let my dog go, which is why I've argued with him about this matter seven times. But what stuns everyone is the fact that I choose not to make a statement. "I'm not going to fight for custody anymore." After that, I send Evan a text. "My only condition is that you reopen my dad's financial crime case for me." Evan heaves a sigh of relief from the plaintiff's podium. But what he doesn't know is that there's a divorce agreement included in the pile of custody-transfer paperwork he signed earlier.

At the robotics competition, my daughter, Lily, was about to receive her award when a well-dressed man suddenly stood up from his seat. His name was Ryan Smith. "I remember your school has a rule. A donation of five hundred thousand dollars will earn a student an extra ten points in the year's competition. This card has five hundred thousand dollars on it, so first prize belongs to my son!" Everyone froze. The teacher hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Lily stood onstage, unsure what to do. "But I'm the real first-place winner!" Ryan's son, Jack Smith, gave her a scornful look. "It doesn't matter how hard you work, Lily Sanders. I have a rich mother, so the chance to train at a top laboratory can only be mine." Lily was so anxious that she was close to tears. I stepped forward, took her hand, and smiled at the father and son, who held their heads high with pride. I asked, "You said the card has five hundred thousand dollars on it. Why don't we verify that right now?" Ryan nodded proudly. "Of course. My wife has more money than she can spend. Run the card now." My smile deepened. The card he held was definitely an authorized supplementary card for my bank account. It was the card I had given my wife for her allowance!

I was slow by nature, always a beat behind in matters of love. It was Julian who loved me, who took me exactly as I was, who married me against everyone's objections. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. Until the fifth year of our marriage, when I stumbled onto the secret between Julian and my sister. They'd been carrying on behind my back for a long time. They'd even had the gall to make a baby together. He ruffled my hair, gentle as ever, his voice soft and doting. "I've fallen for your sister. The same way I once fell for you." "You could be generous about it. Accept her. Accept us." Every drop of blood in me seemed to freeze, and the tears wouldn't stop. I didn't scream. I didn't fall apart. I just shut the door and walked away. But Julian was the one who lost his mind. Six months later, when I still assumed the two of them were long since married with a baby, he was the one crying, begging me not to leave, like a dog begging for scraps.

At a mafia family banquet, my boyfriend of five years, Emilio Gimondi, gives away the ring that symbolizes the family's Donna to his childhood friend, Carlotta Lecce. Someone asks in astonishment, "You gave the ring to Carlotta? Isn't Ms. Rinaldi going to be angry?" Emilio looks completely unconcerned. "A proposal is just a formality. Zita is going to be the Donna eventually. She doesn't need to throw a tantrum over a ring." Carlotta makes a point of flashing the ring in front of me. "Zita, isn't it pretty?" Emilio thinks I'll react the way I always have—in anger and jealousy. Instead, I simply watch them quietly and say that it does indeed look nice. He relaxes, thinking that I've finally learned my place. He promises that once we marry, he'll make it up to me with something much better than that ring. But what he doesn't know is that I've already been accepted into medical school. Very soon, I'll be gone.