Melodramatic Short Stories & Mistress Regret Novels

I lapse into unconsciousness for a few days after a high fever. When I wake up, I see my boyfriend and his best friend standing by my bed. I want to enliven the atmosphere, so I joke, "Who are you?" Eric Cobb, my boyfriend, is taken aback. I almost laugh at the look on his face. Then, he points at his friend, Jonah Mullen. "Don't you remember? Your boyfriend's been panicking over you. As his best friend, I have to be here with him." This time, I'm the one who's taken aback. Unexpectedly, Jonah steps forward and says, "That's right. I'm your boyfriend, Jonah Mullen."

It is my wedding day, and the bridesmaids gang up to shove me into a closet. "You should stay hidden until Ethan finds you. That's how the Groom's Bridal Quests works!" I huddle in the corner and wait all day—to the point where my legs go numb and my veil gets flattened—but there is still no sign of anyone. I try to push the closet door open, only to find out that the closet has been locked from the outside. I keep pounding on the door until my hands are covered in blood before I finally break the lock. I rush into the banquet hall and find Ivy Jensen, my twin sister, wearing my wedding reception dress. She links arms with Ethan Carter, my fiance, making rounds and toasting every guest. "Is this really okay? I'm worried Violet will get upset," Ivy asks softly, leaning shyly into Ethan's embrace. Khloe Larson, my best friend, scoffs. "What's there to be afraid of? You fell for Ethan first. She stole your man, so stealing her wedding isn't a big deal. She's also locked in the closet right now. She's probably too busy crying to even realize what's happening!" Ethan nods and pulls Ivy closer by the waist. "You can just think of it as making up for the wedding we never had, Ivy. Violet owes us this much." Mom and Dad watch from the side and let out a wistful sigh. "Ivy and Ethan really do make the better couple. If Violet hadn't clung on so stubbornly, this would have been Ivy's wedding." I stand frozen, completely numb. It turns out that everyone is in on this scheme, while I am the only one left in the dark. If that's how it is, then I want neither this sham marriage nor this fake relationship.

For ten years, I have stayed by Maren Hale's side without her formally acknowledging me as her boyfriend. Thus, I become the oldest kept man in Harborfield. After I turn 30, I have asked her to marry me more than 30 times. Each time, she smiles and kisses me. "Reid, I'll marry you when I'm ready," she says. When I'm 31, a car accident nearly kills me. Still shaken, I propose to Maren. She tells me to wait a little longer. By the time I'm 33, a doctor warns me that my kidney function is declining. I wave the diagnosis report in front of her and press for marriage. Yet, she still tells me to wait. While I wait for her, the sun rises and sets over Mount Carlisle more than 3,600 times. Finally, I think she is ready. Holding back tears, I promise my seriously ill father that he will live to see me get married. What I don't know is that Maren is not opposed to marriage. It's just that the ten years she spends fooling around with me are nothing more than an act of rebellion against her mother, who has driven away her former fiancé. Before the banquet, I see the ring I give Maren inside her handbag. I think she is finally going to accept my proposal. Nervous and hopeful, I wait the entire evening. But just moments ago, during a game of dare, she casually tosses the ring to a male model she has just met. "The kid is turning 20. A pink diamond suits him perfectly. Next time, I'll have an emerald one made for us." The entire room bursts into laughter. I laugh along with them. "Don't bother," I said. "Someone else already has a rock waiting for me, and I said yes."

At an alumni reunion, my husband's business rival Vanessa Graves stands up in front of everyone and raises three toasts to him. "The first is for the time you risked your life to save me from a group of thugs and ended up with broken bones and spent six months in the hospital. "The second is for the five years we were together, and every bit of love and devotion you gave me. "The third is for putting everything behind you and coming here tonight to see me." She finishes her drink and looks at my husband, Russell Grayson, with teary eyes filled with affection. The whole table erupts in whispers, every pair of eyes locked on her and Russell. "No wonder the campus queen has been single all these years. She's been waiting for Russell Grayson." "They were everyone's golden couple back in the day. After they broke up, he was a wreck for the longest time before someone else swooped in. Are they about to get back together?" Under the weight of everyone's loaded stares, I smile and slide Russell's glass away from him. "No drinking if you're driving, honey. I have a prenatal appointment this afternoon. Why don't you come with me?"

On the day of our engagement party, my fiancée showed up with her ex-boyfriend in matching outfits. Then she took the microphone and made a very public declaration. "Lance, even if I'm engaged, my heart will always belong to you." Every head in the room turned my way, and it was obvious they were all enjoying the show. I calmly slipped off my suit jacket and gave a small smile. "Well, the stage is already set. Why not make this your engagement party instead?"

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.

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."

After getting back together with Tabitha Stark for the fifth time, she sets three rules for me to follow. Rule number one: Whenever I see Jordan Corke, I need to greet him respectfully. Rule number two: I need to have my blood drawn every day, for it's a necessary catalyst in Jordan's medication. Rule number three: I can no longer bond with my biological son, Anthony Fordham. I nod immediately instead of nitpicking every single detail as I did before. Whenever I see Jordan, I'll always greet him humbly and wait for him to leave. Whenever I see Anthony, I'll always take an alternate route to avoid him. Even when Tabitha finds out that she's pregnant and intends to get rid of the unborn baby, I can deliver her the miscarriage-inducing medicine without a falter in my expression. Her face contorted in disbelief, Tabitha smacks the bowl off my hands before roaring at me, "Have you gone nuts, Hugo Fordham? Since when have you become like this? "Haven't you always wanted a child with me again? How dare you agree that I go through the miscarriage right now! Tell me why!" I can't be bothered to answer her questions. At the same time, the system's voice grows louder in my mind. [Congratulations on completing all of the main quests as the villain. Please perish three days later. Your rewards will be issued to you shortly after that.]

Jay Cooper, Giselle White's assistant-slash-sugar baby, accuses me of stealing his mother's personal effects from him. That night, my mom, who's severely ill, gets dangled from a helicopter. Impatience is written all over Giselle's eyes. "If you refuse to return the cross pendant to Jay, your mom will pay for your willful act!" I do my best to suppress the throbbing pain coming from my heart as I beg hoarsely to Giselle to let my mom go. But my seven-year-old daughter, Valerie Walker, jabs a button on the remote control with an icy expression. "This is what you get for going against Mr. Cooper time and again!" I can only watch as Mom falls from a high altitude, soon smashing into the ground heavily. Sorrow fills my heart as I plead in a humble tone, "Please, I'm begging you… Please take my mom to the hospital…" "That's enough, Dylan Walker! The one dangling from the helicopter is a dummy, not your actual mom! Why are you still putting on an act?"

I was doing the laundry when another pair of lace panties slipped out of my husband's pants pocket. Before I could say a word, he raised an eyebrow and handed me a plastic vase. "Go on. Smash it." He acted as though it were perfectly natural. It was the same routine every time I caught him cheating over the past seven years. I looked around, and only then did I realize what he'd done. He'd replaced every breakable thing in our home with something made of plastic or stainless steel. He was used to my hysterical outbursts by now. He thought our marriage was just like all that plastic. No matter how hard I tried, I could never break it. But this time, I calmly put the vase back where it belonged. "Let's get a divorce."

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."

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.

My son had a high fever that would not break, so I called my wife. She said I was using our son to make her jealous. Then she turned around and took her first love's son to the hospital over a scraped finger. I looked at my son's pale face and asked, "Do you want a different mom?" My son nodded. Twice. "Mom doesn't like me, so I don't want to like her anymore." Later, I really did give him a different mom, but my wife refused to accept it.

After I finished my kidney follow-up, I sent Vivian Marsh, my wife, a message. [My wound hurts after a whole day's worth of checkups.] She only sent a reply half an hour later. [What do you mean by that? Are you asking me to cover the cost of your follow-up?] I stared at the words and could not wrap my head around them for a long time. John Howard, Vivian's first love, had run off with all her savings when she was at her lowest and taken up with a wealthy woman. From that moment on, she hated men who spent women's money. In order to show that I was not a freeloader, we always split the bill over the course of our six-year relationship. We paid for our own food and covered the cost of our house by splitting it 50/50. I did not ask her to pay a single cent for all the follow-up fees after I injured my kidney saving her years ago. But in the next second, I saw John's Instagram post. In the screenshot, he showed a catalogue for a limited-edition racecar and tagged Vivian. [Pick a color you like. Do you want exclusive rights to the front passenger seat? Then, send me a cash gift—at least seven figures.] Underneath was Vivian's bank transfer record. It was a total of 3,000,000 dollars. She replied with a smiling emoji, [If you hadn't left six years ago, you wouldn't have needed to ask me for this bit of money.] So, it was not that she hated men asking her for money. She simply hated me spending her money. I put the follow-up report into my bag and sent a message to Peter Jackson, my lawyer. [Please draft a divorce agreement for me.] We'd been keeping score since our very first meal together. It was about time for me to settle the last bill too.

After risking my life to save my Alpha heir mate Ethan and his father from the devastating rogue attack, I devoted three years to watching over him. I stayed by his side through his physical rehabilitation until he could shift again, selling my handmade healing potions to cover the pack's financial shortfalls. I never left, never gave up, handling everything personally until the Northern Pack finally reclaimed its position at the top. But on the night of the victory celebration, standing beside him was his first love—the woman who had once abandoned him. A reporter held up a microphone and asked, "We heard Miss Victoria left you three years ago to go overseas. Now that she's back, how do you feel about her?" He smiled softly, his gaze tender as he looked at the woman beside him. "She is the most important person in my life." That night, I had a lawyer draft the mate bond severance papers. Since she's the most important, I'll step aside.

Robert Blackwell promised to marry me, then postponed it thirty-eight times. The fifth time, a car crash broke eight of his ribs, and I signed seven critical-condition notices. The tenth time, on the way to get our marriage license, he and the car were thrown into the sea, and his suit was torn apart by sharks. By the thirty-eighth time, his heart disease had worsened and his life was hanging by a thread. Eight months pregnant, I changed flights three times and flew twenty-three hours across half the world to find him. When the door opened, a little boy who looked exactly like him lifted his face and said, "I thought Mom was back." Robert rushed out barefoot, panic written all over his face. I turned around and saw my best friend of twelve years standing behind me with a key in her hand. The little boy ran to her and threw himself into her arms, calling her Mom. So the fiance I had waited seven years for was my best friend's secret husband all along. "I will not wait through these thirty-eight near-death weddings anymore." "Robert, I do not want you either."

On my birthday, I bustle around all day, decorating the house and preparing a whole feast. Then, as I wait for the food to cool, I receive a message from my girlfriend, Charlotte Watson. "I'm going on a business trip. Don't wait up for me. Get some sleep." Right after that, I stumble upon a post from her unattainable first love, Dustin Sanders, on social media. In the photo, Charlotte has rolled up her sleeves, put on an apron, and is busy cooking in the kitchen. The caption reads, "I wish this moment could last forever." All of a sudden, I lose my appetite. I like the post, reheat my dinner, and start eating. My phone rings non-stop throughout dinner, but I pay it no mind. By the time I'm full and pick up my phone, I see dozens of missed calls from Charlotte. In the end, she sends me a voice message. "I'll explain when I get back, Liam. Don't read too much into it. We still have so many birthdays ahead of us to celebrate together." I didn't reply. I merely wonder, "Do we still have a future together?"

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife, Nina Sable, drops a bombshell on me. She secretly aborts the child we have tried for three years to conceive, just so she can give her childhood friend, Mike Reed, a son to carry on his family line. When I confront her about it, she calls me out for being petty and heartless. "Mike is the only son in his family. He refuses to marry anyone else because of me. What's wrong with me giving him a child?" My dad, Matt Smith, suffers a heart attack from the shock and dies. My mom, Caroline Dunn, can't take the blow and loses her mind. She falls from the balcony, leaving her in a coma. Desperate to get pregnant as soon as possible, Nina fools around with Mike even on the day of Dad's funeral. And she posts about it on social media. "You stayed faithful to me, so I'll carry on your family line. We may not be meant to be in this life, but let's meet again in the next." I smirk and leave a comment underneath. "How are you not meant to be? I'll make sure you two get what you want right now."

Back when Elaine and I are most in love, I'm a renowned financial reporter, while Elaine Crowley is a rising star in capital circles. However, on the day I'm supposed to interview her, she stands me up once again. My boss, Lisa Donica, waves a limp finger at me and sneers. "You've been sleeping together for eight years, and you still can't land an interview with her? Has she already gotten bored of you? But I guess that makes sense. Some men don't respect themselves—they throw themselves at women and expect to be worth something!" I ignore her and step outside to call Elaine. But the moment I turn around, I find her Cullinan parked right outside. A surge of joy rushes through me. I'm just about to call out to her when the car door opens. Elaine, with her head bowed, carefully steps out with my coworker, their bodies far too close for comfort. Lisa shoots me a sideways glance. "Your woman is letting your biggest rival put his arm around her waist? Luke Tilghman, you've been cheated on!" My eyes fall on the Cullinan. I press my lips together and make a call. "Send a crew over. It's time to take out the trash!"

Mom dies of rage when she discovers that the bride at my wedding has become Nelly Johnson, Harvey Fisher's business partner. My wedding turns into Mom's funeral the moment she breathes her last breath. Despite that, Harvey insists that the ceremony continue as planned. He even orders me to put the wedding ring on Nelly's finger. "Hurry up and put it on! I'll explain everything to you tonight!" he snarls. I ignore him and leave the hotel with Mom's body in my arms. The wedding ends with a banging success at 8:00 pm. Nelly updated her social media with a post that's liked by tens of thousands of people. "I've finally married the light of my life! I'd like to thank a certain homewrecker for leaving after remembering her place." Harvey updates his social media with a similar post. "Those who are unworthy don't deserve to be loved." I like both their posts in the ice-cold morgue. I comment, "I wish you two a lifetime of happiness." Then, I head home with Mom's ashes. When I enter the house, I see Harvey holding Nelly tightly while making out with her.