Mistress 短篇故事與小說

At the company's tenth-anniversary celebration, my wife's male secretary was in charge of the raffle. When it was time for the grand prize, he somehow drew his own name. My wife asked him what he wanted, and he pointed at the watch on my wrist. I flatly refused. How could a personal belonging be used as a prize? But the male secretary turned to my wife and whined, "That watch is a limited edition. There's only one in the world." My wife signaled for me to give the watch to him. I argued my case, but my wife slapped me across the face instead. "It's just a watch. Don't ruin the mood of the anniversary celebration." I smiled, took off the watch, and handed it to her secretary. It was a wedding gift from her that I had treasured for years, but now, I had decided to throw away both the watch and her.

When my husband’s family was caught in a massive pileup on the highway, he was at the beach with his first love. I didn’t call and demand that he come back. I simply dialed 911. Because in my previous life, I’d stopped him from going to the beach with her. Instead, he came with me to rush his family to the hospital. While he was gone, his first love was swept out to sea and drowned. When I found out, I was overwhelmed with guilt. But my husband told me it wasn’t my fault. I thought he’d forgiven me. Then, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the beach. Right in front of me, he killed our daughter and threw her into the ocean for the sharks to devour. Then he held me underwater and waited for them to tear me apart. “This is all your fault! She’d still be alive if it weren’t for you! “You can die with her!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.

After finding out I'm pregnant again, I decide to check the trust fund I set up for my deceased daughter, Ivy Stewart. To my shock, I learn that someone has been withdrawing money from the account for the last five years. The first withdrawal happened the day Ivy passed away. Every year since, five million dollars has been withdrawn from the trust fund on Ivy's death anniversary, all transferred to the same account. Over dinner, I bring it up to my husband, William Stewart. He nonchalantly explains, "Ivy's death hit me hard, so I decided to do some charity work in her memory. I've been providing financial support to a little boy with leukemia all these years. He's a pitiful child, just like Ivy." Nevertheless, I still feel uncomfortable about the whole situation. "Why didn't you discuss things with me first?" Before William gets to say anything, my mother-in-law, Martha Cook, snaps at me, "Doing charity is a good thing! Why would William need to discuss it with you first? It's not like we can't spare the money. He's doing it in Ivy's memory, so don't be so petty!" I stop asking questions, but I secretly approach the fund manager, Shane Mitchell, and tell him I want to visit the boy. However, the fund manager looks at me, shocked. "Isn't the recipient your child? The money was transferred from the trust fund account with the explicit designation that it was for the child's education!"

After saving up for five years with Cindy Labelle, we finally go house hunting. My best friend, Caleb Jarding, comes along too. He points to the floor plan I've been studying for the past six months and asks Cindy, "The second bedroom needs to be turned into a gaming room. Can we knock down the wall?" Cindy replies, "Let's get a designer to take a look tomorrow. You can change it however you want." The two of them talk about everything from the orientation to the tiles, and then from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the bathtub. I stand in the corner, unable to get a word in. Only when it's time to sign the contract does Cindy suddenly remember my existence. She says, "Let's put Cal's name on the deed for now. He's been working hard here on his own, so consider it a company perk. And since the company is a little tight on cash lately, you can keep renting for another two years, Zachary." But five years ago, I, too, traveled thousands of miles to be with her as she chased her dreams. We squeezed into a cramped partitioned room without air conditioning. Back then, Cindy was deeply moved and promised, "Once the company takes off, the first thing we'll do is get a home of our own." Now that the company is doing well, she gives someone else a home first. I stare at the two signatures side by side on the contract. There is no place for mine. Since she has already planned a future without me, I won't wait for her anymore. I open the webpage to terminate my lease and press confirm.

At our company's annual team-building event, my team lost a game, and the group made my girlfriend pick someone to play a card-passing game with. It was the kind where you pass a piece of paper from mouth to mouth without using your hands. I stood up, trying not to look too eager. I thought this was finally my chance to make our secret relationship public. Instead, my girlfriend picked the new hire before I could even step forward. A gust of wind knocked the paper loose, and their lips met right there in front of everyone. The room erupted. "Look at Ms. Chase go. Ms. Untouchable really does have a thing for pretty young things." "I'll take a bite of that free relationship content, thank you very much." I sat there stunned until a coworker pushed a drink into my hand. "What are you spacing out for? Go toast Ms. Chase and her new boy toy." I stared at my girlfriend, unable to believe what I'd just seen. She turned away to shield her new hire from another round of shots, ignoring me completely again. With tears in my eyes, I downed the drink in one go. Then I accepted a job offer from our biggest competitor.

Someone introduces me to Ivy Bennett, my secret girlfriend of five years, at a college reunion. "Hey, Dr. Bennett, Eli is a researcher in your department, too. Why don't you two give it a try?" I walk toward Ivy, hoping to take this opportunity to finally make our relationship public. But Ivy takes a step back and points toward her childhood sweetheart, Matthew Reed, who has just returned from abroad. "That's alright. I already have someone I like." To avoid suspicion, Ivy adopts a distant, detached expression and says, "If you have marriage in mind, there's someone I can introduce you to. I think you'd make a good match." I look at the ten feet of distance she keeps between us and laugh dryly. For five years, Ivy has always appeared to be single, and she has always kept her distance from me. I've waited five years for her to acknowledge our relationship publicly. This time, I'm done waiting. "Oh yeah? Well, introduce me to her, then."

A month before my wedding, I happen to find a shared wedding planning folder on my fiance Tyler Bilson's computer. I just wanted to check if I've missed anything, but instead I find countless comments he and my sister, Winona Shaw, left on it together. Under the champagne roses I picked, Winona leaves a smiling emoji and writes, "Tanya really has great taste." Tyler replies, "But I think red roses would look better. They'd complement your bridesmaid dress." Winona leaves another comment under the scented gift boxes I specifically prepared for the guests. "Tanya really lives up to her reputation as a perfumer. This gift set will definitely make your wedding unforgettable." Tyler replies, "Actually, I think the towel bear you suggested is better. I've already had someone replace all the gift boxes." Then I see Winona's name under the wedding invitation I've revised with the designer five times before approving it. She says, "If only my name were on this wedding invitation as the bride." I stop reading and close the folder. Since you've already planned the wedding for me, I might as well let you have it.

Late one night, I came across a post asking everyone to share their wedding photos. I was about to leave mine in the comments when I saw a pinned reply. It was a set of wedding photos of my wife and my cousin. My mind went blank. I clicked into the poster's profile. There were more than a hundred posts, and almost all of them were wedding photos. I scrolled all the way down and opened the first one. At the top of the comments was a message from my childhood best friend: [Finally public! I've been waiting forever for this. Wishing you two a lifetime together!] Right below it was my mother's comment: [You both look wonderful. Take good care of each other.] There were also comments from mutual friends and relatives. Every single one of them was congratulating the couple. Something inside my head finally snapped. From beginning to end, I was the only person who hadn't known.

During summer break, I worked part-time at a bungee-jumping site, where my best friend deliberately hid behind me and cut my safety line. I scrambled out of the way, but my boyfriend hugged my sobbing best friend and accused me instead. "All I did was comfort Vivi a little when she got scared while bungee jumping. Did you really have to damage your own rope and frame her deliberately?" I stayed away from them to protect myself instead of trying to explain. Then a typhoon suddenly struck, leaving the bungee platform swaying dangerously. My boyfriend was in charge, yet he gave the only spare safety rope to Vivian, who had already retreated to safety. “You’re the safety officer, and you’re certified in high-angle rope rescue. A little wind can’t hurt you. "Vivi isn't trained for this. She's a visitor who's afraid of heights. I have to get her out first." When I said nothing, he snorted and locked the bungee platform's gate. "Are you really going to act jealous at a time like this? Fine. Stay here and cool your head in the wind!" He even evacuated the other staff members before leaving with my best friend, supposedly so I could reflect properly. What he didn't know was that my safety rope was already damaged and could not withstand such powerful winds. He had no idea that as soon as he left, the system’s cold notification echoed in my mind. [The target has abandoned you for the ninth time. Would you like to leave this world?] I watched his figure gradually disappear and calmly nodded. "Yes."

On the day my overseas assignment ended, my boyfriend, Victor Walter, posted something on social media and quickly deleted it. The room was filled with familiar friends. The caption read, [Waiting for tonight's guest of honor.] I thought he had found out that I had changed my flight to come back early and wanted to surprise me. When I arrived at the location and entered the room, everyone fell silent. My best friend, Cynthia Haight, was the first to recover from the shock and said, "Welcome home! We've been waiting for you." Everyone ushered me into a seat and took turns toasting to my return. After several rounds, I leaned drowsily into Victor's arms and closed my eyes to fake being drunk. He pinched my cheek the way he always did and tested me, "Clementine?" When I did not respond, he draped his jacket over me. I smiled a little. Just as I was about to tease him, I heard Cynthia's voice, saying, "Victor, what are we going to do about our wedding on Saturday?" Victor let go of me and turned to pull her into his arms. "Don't worry. The wedding's still on." Their friends chimed in and reassured her softly, "Clementine won't find out. We're all covering for you. There's nothing to worry about." My body turned rigid. I only dared to open my eyes a tiny bit. Under the couch, I noticed something that had been shoved out of sight. [Victor Walter & Cynthia Haight—One-Year Anniversary.]

At the Sweethearts' Light Festival, I head to Truelove Bridge to film vlog footage for my wedding next month. But through the camera's viewfinder, I spot my younger sister, Mona Jensen. Standing right beside her is my fiance, Weston Shaw—who is supposed to be working overtime at the office tonight. As Mona browses a vendor's stall, the strap of her bag slips off her shoulder. Weston catches it almost on instinct and casually slings it over his own shoulder. The glittery, sequined bag, covered in plush charms, looks absurdly out of place against his tailored dark gray suit. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Yet, the bag remains on his shoulder. People stream past them down the crowded street, but he makes no move to hand it back. When Mona finishes picking something out and reaches for the bag, he turns aside, keeping it out of her reach. He says something, and they both laugh. I remember our first date after we make things official. I ask him to hold my bag, which has a plush doll dangling from it. He holds it by the very edge of the strap with one hand. The instant I hang up and turn around, he shoves it right back into my hands. "That thing hanging off your bag doesn't go with my clothes," he says flatly as the tips of his ears turn bright red. I notice a few passersby shooting looks our way and even teasing him about it. Once I realize he really doesn't like it, I never ask him to carry my bag again. Back in the viewfinder, the two of them haven't moved, but everything has blurred into streaks. A voice comes over the bridge speakers. "May all lovers end up together." I stop the recording, my fingertips turning ice-cold and numb. I'm not going to be part of this ending.

My wedding to my fiancée, Helen Howell, was only a week away. I finished my business trip a day early and decided to surprise her. The moment I opened the door to our new place, I heard the shower running. A second later, Helen's longtime best friend, Martin Miller, walked out shirtless with my bath towel wrapped around his waist. Helen poked her head out of the bedroom and froze when she saw me. "Lawrence? I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow." I looked at Martin. "Why is he here?" "The water at Martin's place got shut off, so he came over to shower." Helen said it like there was nothing unusual about it. My eyes dropped to the towel around his waist. "And he's using my towel?" "I gave it to him." She shrugged. "It's just a towel. We can wash it." When she saw my expression, she walked over and slipped her arm through mine. "Martin and I have known each other for ten years. There's nothing going on between us, so stop making such a big deal out of it." I stared at her for a few seconds, then realized I didn't even feel like arguing anymore. "Helen, the wedding's off."

Three days before our wedding, I brought supper for my fiancee, Zoe Anderson, at the hospital. I opened the door of the on-call room and heard moaning sounds. Under the dim lights, the intern, Jack Reid, buried his head against Zoe’s fair shoulder. His hand slipped beneath her open white coat. After Zoe saw me, she pushed him away and tidied her clothes. She looked very calm. “Jack’s pursuing me. He’s infatuated with me, and when he found out that we’re getting married, he threatened to kill himself with a scalpel. “I was worried he’d hurt himself, so I comforted him this way. Our wedding will still go on three days later. “You’ve always been very kind. I believe you won’t mind me saving a life this way, right?”

After swallowing my fourth painkiller, I spent the entire morning sitting in my hotel room in the wedding dress Curtis Bradford had picked out for me. The car that was supposed to take me to the ceremony never showed up. Instead, I came across a livestream of a wedding that had gone viral around town. On-screen, Curtis slipped the pink diamond ring I had begged him for onto the bride's finger. The bride was Shannon Cobb, my biological sister who had disappeared ten years ago. Curtis looked straight into the camera. "Leslie, I know you're watching. "Ten years ago, you lost Shannon and put her through hell. I only let you believe I was going to marry you because I wanted you to know what it feels like to be abandoned." The camera panned to my parents and my brother, Richard Cobb, who were supposed to be helping set up my new home. Richard looked into the camera and said, "You've had ten years of our love and attention. Give back everything that should've been Shannon's, and we'll consider your debt paid." I stared at the happy family on the screen, completely numb. Then I closed the livestream and threw the keepsake I had gotten for Curtis into the trash, along with my wedding ring and veil. None of them knew I had been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer the month before. Even with painkiller injections, I could barely stay on my feet that day. All I wanted was to marry Curtis before I died and let my parents and Richard see me happy one last time. But that wasn't going to happen anymore. I only had three days left. I might as well find somewhere quiet and wait for the end.

Alexis Lomb gives me a bank card with a spending limit. I can spend up to 300 dollars a day. For any amount beyond that, I need to photograph the receipt and send it to her for approval. She says it's for financial transparency within the family. I follow her rules for three years. Last month, a physical exam reveals that I have a lung nodule. So, the doctor recommends a biopsy. I photograph the bill and send it to her. She replies instantly, "7,200 dollars? It's just one nodule. Can't you just monitor it for now?" I don't reply. I cancel the appointment. That evening, she comes home and tosses two shopping bags by the entrance. I recognize the logo. Upon taking out what's inside, I see it's a necklace worth 8,600 dollars. Under the shopping bags is a greeting card in her handwriting. It reads, "Happy birthday, Wes. You deserve the best." Wesley Leach is a new planner at her company. At a department dinner last week, he even grinned and asked me, "Emmett, Alexis is especially generous toward you, isn't she?" I put the card back where I found it. In the end, it is my dad, Vincent Selcer, who accompanies me to get the nodule checked. It turns out to be benign. When the result comes out, I don't tell Alexis. I tell the court instead. When she receives the summons, she texts me, "Can we sit down and talk things through?" At long last, I learn how to use her words against her. I text back, "Submit an application and wait for approval."

My fiancee, Ruby Gordon, is the richest person in Glenridge. Yet on day one, she demands we split everything 50-50. "It's the only way I'll know you actually love me and aren't just after my money," she says. I really do love her, so I agree. Five years pass like this. We split the cost of the leather shoes she buys me. We split the pre-marital health checkup. We even split our 5000-dollar rent. Then, one week before our wedding, Mom ends up in the hospital after a car crash. Two bills hit my phone at the same time. One is a 12,000-dollar surgery fee for Mom. The other is my 1,000-dollar share for the wedding suit. Looking at my bank balance, which contains less than 1,000 dollars, I text Ruby, asking if she can cover the surgery for now. Her reply comes half an hour later. "So, now that we're about to get married, you're dropping the act? Lennon Stein, you're worse than my ex. At least he was upfront about loving money." I try to explain. She snaps back, "Isn't it a little too convenient? The moment we're about to marry, your mom suddenly gets hit by a car? Maybe our signs just clash." I think she's right. So I return the suit and walk out of Ruby's life for good.

After discovering that Hugo Cavill's cheating on me, I develop severe depression. To put my mind at ease, he has two location-tracking bracelets custom-made for us. The first time I discover that the bracelet's location is at City Hall, I rush over, only to find my best friend, Vivian Walker, hand-in-hand with my younger brother, Kieran Crawford, waving at me. "Hugo accidentally left his bracelet in Kie's car yesterday, Bri. We are just about to bring it to you after we obtain our marriage certificate." The second time around, the bracelet's location shows that Hugo's at the hospital. Worried that something has happened to him, I hurry over, only to find the bracelet on Dad's wrist. "You came at just the right time, Bri! Hugo came to see your mom and me yesterday and left his bracelet behind. You really need to give him a good talking to. Without this bracelet, we'd be just as worried about him as you." The third time, the bracelet's location shows up at a wedding venue. Without telling a single soul, I hail a cab and race to the hotel, only to see Hugo onstage in a tuxedo, solemnly planting a kiss on Katalin Miller's forehead. Mom's and Dad's voices drift over from the corner. "I hope Bri doesn't find out too soon this time. She almost caught Hugo and Kat after their prenatal checkup at the hospital last time." Vivian and Kieran chime in. "It was the same when they registered their marriage. It's a good thing we went together that time." Someone sighs. "Whatever happens, we absolutely can't let Bri find out. God knows what she'll do given her condition." At that moment, a voice rings out in my mind. "They've all betrayed you. Is there any other reason for you to stay alive?"

Ten years ago, a fire broke out at my school. I saved four friends, but the flames left me an idiot. The four of them stood beside my hospital bed and cried, swearing they would spend the rest of their lives making it up to me. They were afraid I would get bullied, so they gave up their spots at two of the country's top universities and went to community college with me instead. They were afraid someone would trick me into leaving them, so the other three pushed Joshua Summers to confess his feelings for me. I had once said I envied people who lived in houses that didn't leak, so all four of them saved every cent they had and bought me a house for Joshua and me to live in after we married. Then came the party the night before my wedding to Joshua. When I returned from the bathroom, I heard everyone inside playing a round of Truth. The topic was "Secrets Loretta Doesn't Know." Curious, I pressed my ear to the crack in the door. Calvin Dawson's drunken laughter drifted through. "That little idiot has no idea tomorrow's wedding is actually for Nisha." I froze. After a moment of silence, my sister picked up where he had left off. "Loretta doesn't know that when Josh confessed to her, he only did it to spite Nisha. Who would've guessed she'd say yes? This wedding was supposed to be Nisha's from the start." My best friend's eyes reddened. "If my family hadn't forced me into marriage, I never would've taken Lori's wedding from her. I only want the ceremony. She can keep the title. As long as she's happy, my own happiness can wait until the next life." Joshua's eyes flickered. With a resigned expression, he revealed the final secret. "This morning, I got worked up enough to consider sending Loretta to her death, but I gave up on it in the end. We owe her a life anyway. Let's call this one paid off." I didn't know how long I stood there before I finally stumbled back to my room in a daze. I opened Joshua's bag, and there it was: an opened bottle of pills. My heart shuddered. The happiness I had cherished for ten years had never been anything more than repayment for a debt. Through my tears, I put the pills into my mouth one by one. There was no need to wait for the next life. In this one, I would give them the happiness they wanted.

I had just closed a ten-million-dollar deal. I was overjoyed and ready to go on a honeymoon trip with my husband, Braxton Darnell, to celebrate. However, just outside his study room, I overheard him talking to his assistant, William Goodwin. “For tomorrow’s flight, switch Adeline’s ticket to Vivienne’s.” My hand, which was about to push the door open, froze in midair. William hesitated. “But isn’t this supposed to be your honeymoon with Mrs. Darnell? “She has been looking forward to this for three months and pulled multiple all-nighters to clear her schedule. She was even hospitalized two days ago.” Braxton spoke as though this were a given. “Vivienne just got out of a relationship. She’s a mess right now. I’m worried she might do something stupid. “Adeline is already legally my wife. What’s the big deal if she gives up one honeymoon so I can be there for a friend? “When I get back, I’ll agree to give her a wedding ceremony. That’ll make it up to her.” The next day at the airport, Braxton pressed his hand over mine and explained, “The system must have glitched and booked the wrong ticket. You just wrapped up a huge deal. It’s the perfect time for you to rest at home. “While you’re at it, look into some wedding planners. Once I’m back, we’ll have the wedding.” I watched in silence as Vivienne pulled her suitcase and went through security. Seven years of being legally married to Braxton, and all I got in return was him going off to be another woman’s emotional crutch. She could have the wedding and the title of legal wife. I was done being Mrs. Darnell.

Jason Gibson was trending online as the internet's textbook "devoted husband". It all started when a behind-the-scenes camera caught him during a meeting break, casually transferring tens of thousands of dollars to my account alongside a photo reporting his whereabouts. The comments worshipped him. [This is a real man's mindset. Where his money goes, his heart follows.] From building our company from scratch to taking it public, we had walked side-by-side for ten whole years. During our broke days, I survived by collecting plastic bottles off the streets just to scrape together five bucks for our meals. Back then, he held me and swore, "Once I build this company, I'll never let you live another poor day in your life." So even as he grew busier over the years, I believed those on-time bank transfers were proof we were still deeply in love. That was until my training workshop wrapped up early, and wanting to give him a sweet surprise, I snuck back home unannounced. The master bedroom door stood slightly ajar as a woman's breathless, ragged pants drifted out. "Ten grand for a kiss, fifty grand for sex, plus another thirty grand if you don't use a condom. You went way more than once last night, Mr. Gibson. How much hush money are you planning to send your wife this time?" Jason let out a low grunt. "Shut up." Standing in the hallway, I gripped my phone tightly. My screen was showing last night's transfer notification of three thousand and eighty thousand dollars. That meant seven times without protection. At the time, I had even joked that I was only away for a few days of training and didn't need that much cash. Only now did I finally get it. What he was sending me was never peace of mind. It was nothing more than an indulgence ticket, a price tag to blind my eyes to his betrayal.