Mistress Short Stories & Novels

On my way home from work, I realized a man I didn't know was following me. I called my husband, Cassian Bellamy, for help, hoping he could come pick me up. Instead, he sent me a few cold voice messages. "Can you stop acting like you're being followed all the time? We live in a society governed by laws. Where's this creep you're talking about?" "Also, if someone really is following you, what do you think he's going to do? You're a married woman. I'm busy right now, so take a cab home yourself." I hid in the corner of a 24-hour convenience store, trembling from head to toe. It wasn't until a torrential downpour began that the creepy figure finally left. I ran home in the dark, soaked to the skin and covered in mud. The moment I got home, a post from Cassian's childhood friend, Celine Marlowe, popped up on my phone. "This is why having a childhood friend matters. I couldn't get a ride home in the rain, so he drove across half the city just to pick me up from work." The photo showed Cassian's familiar Land Rover, with a warm cup of coffee in the passenger seat. Celine's pinned location was a full 18 miles from our home. And Cassian's car would have passed right by the street where I'd called him for help. In that moment, all the strength seemed to leave my body. Maybe I didn't need this miserable marriage after all.

The air conditioner in our apartment was broken. I asked my wife, Maya Cullen, several times if we could buy a new one, but she refused every time. "Evan, just hang in there a little longer. As soon as we get paid next month, we'll buy one." It was 102 degrees outside. Every night, we lay awake fanning ourselves, exhausted from the heat. I couldn't stand watching Maya suffer, so I borrowed 5,000 dollars from a friend and gave her the money to order an air conditioner. She placed the order, yet it never arrived. After I asked her about it twice, Maya finally lost her temper and slammed her phone down. "Evan, are you serious? It's a little heat. Deal with it. I'm swamped with work, and I don't have time to worry about your stupid air conditioner!" I quietly picked up her phone and didn't mention it again. Two weeks later, while Maya was in the shower, I used her phone to check the delivery status. It said the air conditioner had already been delivered. But not to us. It had been delivered to an address in another city. I spent ages arguing with the shipping company, but they insisted they hadn't made a mistake. With no other option, I called the person who signed for it. "Hi. I'm calling about an air conditioner you received a few days ago. I think it may have been delivered to the wrong address..." The man on the other end sounded confused. "That can't be right. My wife bought that air conditioner. We had it installed a few days ago." His wife? My breath caught. When I finally spoke, my voice was unsteady. "Is… Is your wife's last name Cullen?"

At the wedding reception, every place card at the last table bore an online username instead of a real name. I turned to my husband and quietly asked who these people were. Before he could answer, a young woman at the table blinked at me and said playfully, "Hey, we're not strangers. I've been hiking with Zane for three years. Every time we go out, we sleep in the same tent." The others at the table burst out laughing. "Say it. Does Zane snore in his sleep?" I stood there frozen, wineglass in hand, utterly humiliated. To my surprise, Zane laughed along with them. "They're all my friends. I bought you tickets to Caldera Bay for our honeymoon, but I'm not going. I finally have some time off after the wedding, so I'm planning to hike the Blackridge Trail with them." I was about to demand an explanation, but the young woman had already pulled Zane into the seat beside her and started drinking with him. She playfully punched him in the chest as she laughed, her tone half teasing and half annoyed. I thought about all the times over the years he'd left me behind just to go hiking, and my heart went cold. I turned and walked away, leaving Zane with a single message. [Our honeymoon is supposed to be something we share as a couple. Since you're unwilling to go, I'll just find somebody willing to.]

When I was ten years old, I suddenly gained the ability to see red threads connecting people’s heads. Only those who had actually slept together would be bound by this unavoidable red line. Over the years, two extra red threads popped up over my father’s head, driving my mother to threaten to file for divorce again and again. Because of this, loyalty became the single most important thing I looked for in a partner. In the end, I chose Jasper—a modest, reserved man whose head was completely clean. On the night before our wedding, my bridesmaids hosted a bachelorette party. We played a game where whoever lost had to hand over their phone for the rest of us to snoop through. When it was my maid of honor Jean’s turn, she clutched her phone tightly, her face flushing red as she bashfully giggled. “Don’t look at mine! He wore me out so late last night. Those photos are definitely not fit for public viewing.” Everyone teased her for keeping her relationship so secretive, since no one had ever met her boyfriend. I was just about to step in and smooth things over when I suddenly saw a bright red thread stretch straight out from the top of her head. It wove right through the crowd and anchored itself directly onto my fiancé, Jasper. Yet, when he dropped me off at home last night, his head had been entirely clean. In fact, just half an hour ago, he had sent me a text. [Aria, I’ve saved myself for you for twenty-five years. On our wedding night tomorrow, I can finally have you. I love you!] I looked over at Jasper standing outside the door, staring at me with deep affection, and then back at Jean, whose face was glowing with passion. I raised my glass and clinked it gently against hers. “Jean, is your boyfriend’s last name Cook?”

My boyfriend Zane Shaw's ex, Mia Zimmer, has another sleepwalking episode and shows up at our door in the middle of the night. Zane doesn't even hesitate. As if he's done this countless times before, he leads her straight into our master bedroom, settles her into our bed, and gently coaxes her back to sleep. I stand in the doorway, watching the tenderness in his expression. "Zane, what's the excuse this time?" He doesn't even turn around. After a brief silence, he answers impatiently, "You'll get used to it." So this time, there isn't even an excuse. I'm simply expected to get used to another woman showing up at our home in the middle of the night and to my boyfriend's ex sleeping in our bed. Mia was diagnosed with a sleepwalking disorder three months ago. Ever since then, she somehow ends up outside our door every single night, calling Zane's name in her sleep. The first time, Zane lets her in. "Winnie, it's pouring outside. It's not safe for her to be alone. She'll sleep on the couch. I'll send her home first thing in the morning." The second time, he takes her to the guest room. "The couch is not comfortable, and no one's using the guest room anyway. It's just for one night." First the couch, then the guest room, and now she's sleeping in our bedroom. I turn around and return to the guest room without saying another word. In the middle of the night, I get up for some water. That's when I hear voices coming from the master bedroom. "Mia, you don't actually have a sleepwalking disorder, do you?" Mia sniffles. "I'm sorry, Zane. I didn't want to lie to you. But I really can't sleep when you're not there." A long silence follows. Then Zane finally speaks. "Don't let Winnie find out." I stand outside the door, frozen. I don't know how long I stay there. Eventually, I take out my phone and type a message. "I'm accepting the overseas transfer." If Zane wants to keep playing along with Mia's lies, that's his choice. But I'm done playing with them.

In our most loving year, Hugh Thorne and I make a pact that neither of us will ever ask for a divorce—because whoever does will end his or her own life. I immediately grab a pair of scissors and stab him in the neck when he first tells me that he wants to give Beatrice Lane, my heartbroken best friend, a home. He repeatedly brings up divorce over the next two years, while I repeatedly refuse to let him go. Then, after his 99th attempt to get a divorce fails, Hugh jumps into the river. Everyone claims I am a madwoman and a jinx who killed her husband. Mom and Dad cut ties with me and take in Beatrice as their goddaughter. I am completely on my own after that. I work three jobs a day to make ends meet and raise Nicholas White, the child Hugh and I share. It is the third year after Hugh's death, and I receive a call from a former classmate of mine. "Are you coming to the class reunion this weekend, Mia? Hugh will be there too." In that instant, my mind goes completely blank. I can barely hold the phone because my hand is shaking so hard. It turns out that Hugh is still alive! My former classmate excitedly explains over the phone, "We're doing something different this time! Everyone has to bring something that will surprise the others, and whoever loses has to pay for the meal!" I have to bring something that will surprise everyone, huh? I hang up the phone and instantly arrange for someone to draft a divorce agreement for me.

In the afternoon, I mysteriously receive a text message from myself seven years in the future. Thinking it's some kind of new scam, I don't even bother reading it before replying, "Get lost, scammer!" However, the sender sends a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills and replies, "I'm not a scammer, but I really am dying. Break up with Crystal. Today will be the first day she cheats on you. "Her first true love just returned from abroad today. His name is Reuben Knight." I'm stunned. I'm about to make fun of the scammer for lying so blatantly to me because I clearly know that I am Crystal Harper's first love. At that moment, the door behind me opens. Crystal then strides in with a man behind her. She introduces me to him and says, "Hey, Daniel, I'd like you to meet a friend. This is Reuben Knight, and he's like a brother to me. He just returned from abroad today."

In the second year after we decided on a destination wedding, my fiance, Nicholas Shipley, still had not finalized our travel plans. Unable to wait any longer, I confronted him once more. He finally took out his tablet to show me the travel itinerary he had prepared. “Honey, I just want the trip to be as perfect as possible.” Two years of frustration had been building up, and I could feel it boiling over. Just then, his phone buzzed with a notification. He stood up and walked away. He had forgotten to sign out of WhatsApp on his tablet. A pinned conversation with the young assistant intern, who worked for the manager, Annie Croce, popped up. He had marked it as urgent. [Nick, you’re amazing! You put together the whole itinerary in just two months. As a thank-you, I went ahead and bought us both tickets!] [This is a singles’ trip. So, no bringing your wife, okay?] The chat showed Nicholas’ elaborate travel plans in full detail. The itinerary he showed me had all been made for Jocelyn over the past two months. In contrast, I had waited for two whole years. Then, I heard his voice from behind. “Honey, the views aren’t great this month. How about we push it to next month instead?” “Don’t bother.” I was calm, but my body was as tense as a rock. “Nicholas, let’s break up.”

In the eighth year of our marriage, I was on my way to drop my daughter off at school when I got a call from a hotel. "Is this Ms. Ariel Winters? Your husband, Vince Weaver, left his watch here." My blood went cold. Ariel Winters was my wife. Vince Weaver was my sworn brother. I rushed to my sister, desperate for her to deny it. She didn't even flinch. Instead, she gave me a calm, steady lecture. "Edwin, they already have a child together. Just pretend you don't know. Ariel didn't want you to get hurt. That's the only reason we agreed to keep it from you." Before I could speak, my brother-in-law cut in. "Yeah, Edwin, don't blame Vince for this. You're both fathers. Try to see it from his side." My brother-in-law was another member of our so-called sworn brotherhood. And now, he wanted me to forgive the man who had wrecked my family — and his secret child. Turns out I was the extra piece in every relationship I had: family, friendship, and love.

Caleb Gallagher is still under the influence of anesthesia post-surgery when he calls out to his first love, Naomi Whitmore, while holding me. "I regret getting engaged to her, Naomi. It wasn't until after I left you that I realized I never stopped loving you. It's no big deal that I got stabbed while protecting you; I would have given up my life for you if you'd asked." A hush fills the room, and everyone looks at me with sympathy. I don't make a scene or throw a fit. Instead, I do Caleb a generous favor and call Naomi on the phone. "Come look after your husband. He is in surgery."

My girlfriend, Lilith Fordson, has a lot of quirks. She creates her own marriage vouchers and tells me that she'll marry me after I collect 19 of them. She gives me one when she's happy and gives me another one when I give her a present. I get another one when she misses my birthday because of work. She gives me another one when she wakes up late and misses the chance to send me off when I leave for a business trip. I know that Lilith is ready to marry me when I eventually collect 18 marriage vouchers. I buy a bouquet of roses to surprise her with a proposal. However, when I return home, I see my best friend Declan Smith's car parked outside my apartment. Lilith and Declan are hugging in his car. They kiss each other passionately, looking as if they wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in each other's arms forever. As I stiffly and slowly approach the car, I hear Declan say mockingly, "I feel so sorry for Theo, Lilith. He has no idea that you're actually compensating him for your betrayals every time you give him a marriage acceptance voucher. "He told me that he only needs one more voucher. You're not actually going to marry him when the time comes, are you? You're not going to just cast me aside, right?" Lilith pecks his lips and says, "Don't worry, darling. I won't give him the last voucher. I'll only settle down and marry him after I've had my fill of playing around." It turns out that every wedding acceptance voucher is actually proof of Lilith's betrayal. I turn around without any hesitation and throw the bouquet into the trash. I then grab my phone and call Mom. "I'm ready to go home, Mom. I'll marry Luna Ellis, the daughter of the mafia boss."

The young woman Royce Drayton has his eye on is fierce. He throws 200 million dollars at her, but she still refuses to leave her broke boyfriend. In a rage, Royce locks her away in his Crescent Shores villa for seven full days and nights. The staff whisper that Royce has his ways, that he can turn even the most defiant woman soft and willing. Afterward, he comes to me with the same easy apology he always gives. I can't even count how many times he cheats on me. Just like right now, I'm still giving him the cold shoulder over the secretary who crawls into his bed the month before, but he's already over her and on to someone new. It makes my jealousy feel pointless and a little pathetic. At some point, he stops even bothering with excuses and just tells me, "You're my only real wife. Isn't that enough?" I even start convincing myself that no man can resist temptation, especially not one who owns the entire city of Grayport. He's just playing around, and his heart is still mine. That's all that matters. But when I find out this young woman gets Royce to add her name to the Drayton family registry in just ten days, something I spent ten years trying and failing to earn, I know he's truly fallen for her. Later, I bring the terms of an old wager to Royce's mother myself. "I lost. I'll leave Grayport." "Sweetheart, love isn't something you win or lose." There's pity in her eyes, but she doesn't ask me to stay. She only asks, "Will you come back?" I beg the Draytons for their blessing to marry Royce. I cut ties with my own parents, give up everything, and swear never to leave this city. Now, standing at the waterfront one last time with the harbor wind on my face, I know I'm never coming back.

The pair of pink diamonds I've had my eye on for the longest time is finally auctioned off for a staggering price. Outside the auction hall, the young woman who won the bid is talking sweetly to someone on the phone. "Babe, you really don't have to come all the way here. Margot will be with me, so I'm good… Okay, fine. Love you!" I watch her with slight envy. Those pink diamonds are supposed to be my fifth-anniversary wedding gift. Before the auction, I've called my husband, Gabriel Hudson, and asked if he could come with me. But he said it was a trivial matter and that I could handle the bidding myself. The woman was on the phone earlier, and from what I could make out, they're planning to have dinner together to celebrate. My rideshare arrives. I'm about to leave when the woman suddenly shouts excitedly, "Margot, over here!" I follow her gaze. The person approaching is none other than my housekeeper, Margot Lawrence.

After a car accident wipes my memory, my mind is stuck ten years in the past—right after I get down on one knee to propose to Angeline Stone. I tear through every app on my phone, desperate to find any proof that Angeline is actually my wife. But all I see in my contacts are numbers I don't recognize, and my WhatsApp chat list is empty. I have no choice but to call my buddy, Rick Tate, to ask him whether Angeline accepted my proposal. To my surprise, he explodes on me like a lit firecracker. "Did a donkey kick you in the head, Caleb? Did she accept your proposal? You're about to divorce her!" My first reaction after hanging up is—damn, I'm a legend. I actually managed to land an ice queen like Angeline. My second reaction is to stare blankly at the handwritten divorce agreement on the nightstand. Who wants a divorce? Me? Am I out of my mind?

On Julian Sterling’s birthday, Zara Xavier secretly traveled six hours to his city to surprise him. She knew he had been eyeing a limited-edition watch, one of only a few in the world, so she arranged to meet a college student in person to buy it. When the girl arrived, Zara was surprised to see that she was pregnant. She was still in college, but her belly was already quite large. She was well into her third trimester. “Hi, I’m Zoey Ramsey. You’re the one who wanted the watch, right?” Zoey pulled the watch out of its original box and handed it to Zara as if it were no big deal. Zara happily took it. “Yes, this is the one. My husband really likes it. Ms. Ramsey, how much are you asking for it?” “One dollar.” “One dollar?” Zara frowned. “This watch is worth at least a hundred thousand dollars.” “Exactly! I only want a dollar. Today’s my husband’s birthday. I was going to give him this watch as a birthday present, but he was being mean and wouldn’t let me have any ice cream. So, I got mad and decided to sell his present instead!” As soon as she finished, her phone started ringing. She refused to answer. She pouted as she stared at the screen. “It’s definitely him. I’m not answering! Oh, are you free later? Why don’t you come hang out with us? My husband, Julian Sterling, owns the club.” Zara froze. “Wait. What did you say your husband’s name was?” Zoey flashed a bright smile and said without hesitation, “My husband’s name is Julian Sterling. We’ve been married for three years, and we’re about to have a baby.” Julian Sterling? Her husband was also named Julian Sterling and wanted the same limited-edition watch.

Mom is hospitalized for 20 days with a serious illness. My girlfriend, Nicole Davis, works as a doctor at the same hospital. Still, she doesn't visit Mom at all. On the first day, Nicole takes time off to help her childhood friend, Kevin Shaw, move. On the second, Kevin starts interning at the hospital, so Nicole spends the entire day showing him the ropes and taking care of every little thing for him. The third day passes, then the fourth. Mom's room is on the 13th floor, while Nicole works on the 17th. They're only four floors apart, which means a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Still, 20 days pass without Nicole ever making it down those four floors. On the day Mom is discharged, I take her to the train station alone. While we're on the way, I finally receive a text from Nicole. "Kevin's dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to take it to the vet first." This time, I finally break my silence. "Okay, got it. Be safe." Then, I smile and add, "And one more thing. We're done."

The day my husband, Ramsey Collins, completed his classified deployment, I brought our daughter to the local elementary school for registration. The administrator looked up from her screen, visibly confused. "Ma'am, your daughter's father is already registered in our database as a parent, but for a different boy. Did you mistype his details?" My forehead creased. "That's impossible. Let me check." I unlocked my phone. An update popped up from my husband, who had forgotten to hide his private posts from me. [Seven years in secret. Now I can finally tell the world that you are my wife.] The attached photo showed my best friend, Evelyn Reed, resting her head on his shoulder, smiling gently as she held her young son. In their hands were marriage certificates. Identical to the one sitting in my purse. My mind went completely blank. My thumb scrolled down the screen on autopilot. The comment section was packed with congratulations. Mutual friends. My own coworkers. At the bottom, there was a message from his mother, Juliet Collins. [She hid her marriage for seven long years. You need to make it up to them both from now on.] [Make sure you hide this from Clara. If she finds out her own marriage certificate is a fake, it will destroy her.] My husband replied with a quick nod emoji. [I will.] My hands began to tremble. For seven years, I looked after his mother. I raised our child. Meanwhile, he was playing family with someone else. Everyone knew. Every single person helped him keep the lie alive. My chest tightened until I couldn't breathe. A tiny tug pulled at my sleeve. My daughter pointed toward the door, her eyes wide and cautious. "Mommy, the rain is getting heavy. Are we still waiting for Daddy?" I opened the umbrella and took her hand. "No, sweetie. We're not waiting. We'll never wait for Ramsey Collins again.”

My mom stole my dad's name and his status as the top-ranked student in the state, then gave them to her childhood sweetheart. From then on, the two thieves soared to the top. One was admitted to Ashford University and went on to become a computer science professor at one of the country's top universities. The other attended Westbridge University and became a nationally recognized expert in education. … Meanwhile, my dad was left without a legal identity, spending his entire life scraping by through odd jobs and backbreaking labor. Years later, I inherited his talent and founded a leading AI technology company, making a name for myself in the industry. Potential partners were constantly coming to me with offers. One company, in particular, approached me several times seeking a partnership. The contract they offered was tempting, with generous terms and impeccable credentials. I casually flipped through their background information. But when I reached the page introducing the founder, my hand stopped. After a long silence, I finally said slowly, “Forget it. I won’t work with you.”

It was the summer holidays. I was going to Shinborder to see my wife, then comments started popping right in front of me. "Five minutes later, your wife's going to tell you to not give up your seat for anyone." "A pregnant woman's going to ask for your seat. You refuse, as per your wife's request. That pregnant woman ends up dying a sudden death from standing too long. Her baby dies too." "Your wife's male bestie is this cabin's attendant. He'll testify that you caused the woman's death by refusing to give up your seat." "The Internet will hunt you down. Your wife will stand against you. In the end, the pregnant woman's mother will stab you eighteen times, and you die." I was stunned. Maybe this was a hallucination from teaching the SAT students for too long. Then, the moment I sat down, I got a text from my wife. "It's hard to get tickets this time of the year, Michael. It took me forever to get a first-class seat. Enjoy it. Don't give it to anyone." My hand shook. I was reminded of the last line of the comment. "Your wife and male bestie set this up. They bought out the pregnant woman so you'll be killed, all so they can get your mountain of inheritance and insurance payout." I looked at the nearby pregnant woman and went to the second-class cabin right away.

My girlfriend, Eloise Harper, sought efficiency in everything. She could barely tolerate anything she considered a waste of time. She decided that our wedding ceremony rehearsal was a waste of time and canceled it. When she found a long line forming at City Hall for marriage registration, she spun on her heel and left at once. On Valentine’s Day, I reserved a table for the two of us at a private restaurant known only to a few people. I arrived early at her company to pick her up. But I accidentally overheard her colleagues gossiping. "Have you heard? Ms. Harper deliberately took the service elevator every day to leave work with Mr. Pierce." In the elevator hall, I was shocked to find Eloise waiting at the back of the line. She was casually discussing work with her secretary, Matthew Pierce. Later, I caught up with them on the first floor. Eloise turned around and greeted me with a displeased frown. The reproach in her voice was obvious. "Andrew, we aren't even married yet. Are you really so desperate to show up here and taint my reputation?" I choked on her groundless accusation and could only shake my head in resignation. She had forbidden me from visiting her at the office, saying she wanted to avoid gossip. Today, I had not wanted to test her patience and risk having her cancel our date as usual, so I rushed all the way to her workplace to pick her up after work. Before I could explain, Matthew put on a panicked expression and chimed in. "I forgot my laptop. I need to go back to the office to pick it up." Then, he turned to Eloise and apologized, "I'm sorry, but it seems I can't drive you home today. You should go with him. No need to wait for me." She held his shoulder, her expression visibly softened. "I'll get it for you. Just get Andrew out of here now." Finally, she walked away and joined the crowd waiting for the elevator. At that moment, realization dawned on me. If she could not even be bothered to maintain our relationship, then we should end it now.