Plot Twists Rebirth Short Stories & Cheating Novels

I secured a big deal for the company and was promoted to manager. However, I overheard my boss' secretary gossiping in the pantry, saying that I was brainless and only got where I was by using my body. I was so angry that I wanted to report it to the police. Surprisingly, her husband stopped me and forced his wife to bow and apologize to me, begging for forgiveness. Things got worse on the next day. Someone shared my inappropriate photos in the company group chat along with records of me supposedly checking into a hotel with a man. My colleagues looked at me with contempt, as if they all knew what was happening but refused to speak up. Even my boss fired me, saying I had moral issues. My husband immediately divorced me when he found out, took our daughter away, and left me with nothing. Neighbors pointed fingers and whispered about me. I was so overwhelmed that I lost my senses and was killed by a car crash. When I opened my eyes, I returned to the day I was promoted.

After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out. I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat. But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage. The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying. The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive. [She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!] [No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!] The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me. The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir. Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer. It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love. To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.

I was nine months pregnant when a man ambushed me, dragging me to the rooftop and repeatedly stabbing me. He had a grudge against my husband for replacing him. Meanwhile, my husband, a rescue team leader, was frantically coordinating efforts to stop his depressed ex-lover from burning down a rental apartment. I never called for his help. In a previous life, I had desperately called him, and he had abandoned his ex-lover to rush to my side. As a result, my child and I survived the attack, but his ex-lover perished in the fire she ignited. My husband seemed unfazed, even booking a VIP delivery room for me. Yet, on the day I was to give birth, he bound me and brutally stabbed our newborn multiple times. "You were in on this plot, weren't you?" he snarled. "Those wounds? They're nothing! You weren't even close to dying!" "Oh, you like being stabbed so much? I'll give you exactly what you want!" Suddenly, I found myself back on the day of the kidnapping. This time, I decided to let him go save his precious ex-lover.

In the fifth year of being married to Rick Duncan, I burned down our house. "Wendy Frost, don't think I'll forgive you so easily. I will never love you!" shouted Rick. I sat by the window and looked at him. "You'll regret this, Rick." The next second, a cloud of red mist appeared from the ground. I was left lying in a pool of blood. I suddenly opened my eyes... I was reborn. Three months later, Rick made a call late at night during the day of his wedding with Jennifer Frost. He was sobbing. "Mindy, I regret my decision."

Not long after getting married to my husband, he says he wants to teach me how to scuba dive. My leg cramps when I'm practicing alone in the deep sea. However, my husband, a swimming instructor, chooses to save his unattainable love—she's jumped into the sea to commit suicide. I don't ask him for help. Instead, I allow myself to slowly sink. In my past life, I stopped my husband from leaving. He saved me with gnashed teeth and allowed his first love, Millie Quirke, to drown. By the time he went to save her, she'd already disappeared in the water. He comforted me and told me it was okay, that he was glad he'd saved me. However, one night, he brought me back to the seaside. Just as I let my guard down, he grabbed my neck and plunged my face into the water. Then, he dragged me out before I could suffocate. "You were just cramping—it would've passed! But Millie got dragged away by the current because of you! You can remain in the ocean with her!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day I was scuba diving.

When my husband Jason Carter’s first love, Renee Lynn, showed up at our doorstep heavily pregnant in my past life, I still refused to divorce him. She was soon accidentally pushed down the stairs by debt collectors, killing both her and the baby. Ever since then, Jason hated me to the core. Not only did he cheat and keep a mistress, but he also conspired with her violent, mentally unstable brother to kill me. Before I took my last breath, he sneered, “You owe Renee a life. It’s time to pay up.” Fine. I must have been blind. After my reincarnation, I decisively signed the divorce papers, abandoned my savior complex, and stopped meddling in others’ fates. If he wanted to be a pathetic simp, I would let him be.

My name is Chase Murphy. I've been married to Jessica Stanton for three years. After she tells me that she's infertile, she brings home two children from an orphanage. I raise them as my own, investing everything I have into their lives. But in return, they push me down the stairs without a second thought. "Now our real dad can finally be with Mom." In that split second, the truth crashes down on me. These aren't just any children—they belong to Jessica and her first love, Troy McPoland. When I open my eyes again, I find myself transported back to the day Jessica first introduces the children into our lives. This time, I'm done being the fool raising someone else's family.

Clara Black, a wealthy heiress from Glenford, openly declares that she only dates men for a month at a time and never gets emotionally involved. Men eager to climb the social ladder line up across the city, hoping for a chance. After all, when she is in a good mood, she rewards them with a villa. When she isn't, she still gives them millions of dollars when the relationship ends. People in Glenford laugh at me, calling me the most humiliated live-in husband they've ever seen. They're convinced that I'll endure it for the rest of my life. That is until Clara brings home a college student named Leonard Frost. Leonard looks ordinary, yet he becomes the first man to break her one-month dating rule. Clara then gives me two options. One option is to accept an open marriage and let Leonard have equal footing with me. The other is divorce, with half of her assets given to me and a clean break afterward. Her close friends watch from the sidelines, certain that I'll keep enduring everything for the sake of money. Yet I choose the second option without hesitation. In my previous life, I chose to endure, only to have Leonard take advantage of me even more. He forbade Clara from touching me and refused to let her bear my child. In my old age, I could only look on with envy as Leonard enjoyed a household full of descendants. Even after Clara passed away, she didn't mention me in her will at all. Every part of her estate fell into Leonard's control. I kept the title of Clara's husband, yet I lived my entire life completely alone. Now that I have been reborn, everything is clear to me. I will take the money and walk away, severing all ties with her for good.

When the factory director’s son dragged my drunk fiancee into the supply warehouse, I pretended as if I did not see them. I just turned around and walked away. In the past, I had ruined my own future by rushing in and beating the factory director’s son up. I was even framed for stealing the supplies from the warehouse. When the warehouse keeper came over with the police officers, my fiancee deliberately ripped her own clothes. She cried and said that she came with the director to stop me from committing the crime, but I beat her up and even defiled her. Everyone despised me, and I became a criminal. My fiancee’s parents could not bear the rumors, and they forced me to marry her. But that marriage was only the start of a hellish life. She lived like a queen at home, yet she told everyone I was starving her. When she got pregnant, she deliberately pushed her belly against the corner of the table. Then, she stood in the courtyard and cried. She claimed I had abused her, and I wanted to kill my own baby. My parents felt bad for me, so they borrowed money from everyone they knew to get her a job. But when she landed on the job, she framed my father for stealing the steel from the factory. Half a year after my father was imprisoned, he passed away in jail due to an illness. My mother could not bear the stress and fell severely ill. She also passed away soon after. When I was pinned under the collapsed brick wall at the construction site, she did not call for help. Instead, she picked up a brick and smashed it into my head. “If you were not so nosy, Jeremy and I’d have been together already. We wouldn’t have wasted so much time!” My head bled, and I was buried beneath a pile of rubble. When I opened my eyes again, I was at the entrance of the supply warehouse. From inside, I heard my fiancee’s soft, teasing murmurs.

Claire Shaw, my wife of 27 years and I had already fallen out of love with each other. Having picked up on that fact, our children, Jason and Monica Bennett, started giving me advice. "Dad, you and Mom are still relatively young. You two deserve to continue pursuing the lives you want." "That's right, Dad. You can't just force a marriage to go on. We support you in getting a divorce." With Jason and Monica's support, Claire and I soon got divorced. Monica took it upon herself to introduce another woman to me. Soon, I began a new relationship. But when I was about to get married, Claire took me to court and accused me of cheating on her while we were still married. Jason and Monica showed up at the court trial as witnesses as well. They proved that I had indeed cheated on Claire in our marriage. I couldn't defend myself at all. In the end, I was forced to give up everything I owned. My new girlfriend, Linda Calcraft, and I were heavily targeted by the entire Internet. "Hey, old geezer! Just how shameless are you to look for a mistress when you're already dying?" "You're already old enough to become a grandfather, and yet you're still filing for a divorce? You and that mistress are better off together!" Some extremists strapped me and Linda to the bed. They dumped gasoline all over us before setting us on fire, leading to our deaths. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Jason and Monica try to convince me to get a divorce.

To save his childhood sweetheart, who had a congenital heart condition, my husband tricked me into signing an organ donation agreement. Then he got into a truck and ran me over right in front of the hospital. Barely clinging to life, Elliot Carter tore my heart from my chest. When my body was wheeled out of the operating room, Alan Yates came crashing to my side like a man gone mad. Seeing the gaping hole where my heart used to be, he screamed and wept: "I'm sorry… I was too late… If there's another life, I'll never let you suffer like this again…" Tears fell exactly where my heart had been, and somehow, I even felt a flicker of warmth. He spun around and ran back into the operating room. When he came out again, Elliot and Jessica Foster were lying in a pool of blood. Alan, meanwhile, had slashed his own wrist to die with me. On his deathbed, he ordered that we be buried together. Then I opened my eyes. I had been reborn. Before me stood Elliot, dressed in a wedding gown, holding a bouquet, and proposing. I flung the flowers in his face and turned to embrace Alan in the crowd. However, only a year and a half into our marriage, he changed. Alan began openly pairing up with Jessica, letting her move into our home. Worse, he claimed that our cat's mating season had disturbed Jessica's sleep, and so he allowed her to run over the cat I had raised for seven years. I could not believe it. This was not the man who had loved me so deeply in my previous life. My eyes blazing, I demanded, "What's wrong with you?" However, Alan's gaze was icy. "Nothing. I just don't love you anymore."

When Ingrid Stewart, the prettiest woman in the factory, got dragged into an abandoned warehouse by a hooligan named Edmund Holloway, I didn't rush after them with a brick in my hand, unlike my past self in the previous life. Instead, I went to the nearest police station right away. In my previous life, I sustained heavy injuries in order to save Ingrid from Edmund. The Stewarts decided to marry her to me so that they could repay my life debt. After our marriage, I treated Ingrid with utmost sincerity, but all I received in return was her resentment. On the night the rundown apartment we lived in was on fire, I rushed into the inferno to push Ingrid and our son out of danger. In return, a beam crashed down on me. When I raised my head, I saw Ingrid dragging our son toward Edmund. Then, she said to me icily, "This is all your fault, you stupid coward! You're the reason why Edmund and I weren't able to get together for so many years!" Edmund guffawed loudly as well. "Right, I forgot to tell you that your son, whom you've loved for 18 years, is actually my child!" In the end, I kept coughing up blood because I inhaled too much smoke. Just like that, I died a gruesome death in the fire. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ingrid gets harassed by Edmund. In this life, I choose to grant Ingrid and Edmund's wish of staying together.

After I got a second chance at life, I stopped bringing lunch to my wife, who had become the factory manager. She would leave for meetings through the south gate, so I would sneak around through the north. In my previous life, I knew she only married me with an ulterior motive, but I still fell for her. I thought I could warm her heart over time. However, Shirley Scott was always just polite to me, nothing more. When I tried to get close, she would hand me a book and say, "Read more so people won't look down on you." Once, with a bit of liquid courage, I hugged her. Yet, she just stood there, stiff as a board, and said, "It's what married folks do." Years later, as I was dying, I read her memoir and learned about how she felt trapped in our marriage, like being stuck in the mud. She hoped she would never have to be with me again in another life. That hurt more than anything. However, then, I woke up and discovered that I was back to when there were whispers about her and the factory's technician. This time, I did not make a scene. I just asked for a divorce.

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

The day Sofia died, I scattered her ashes into the sea myself. In my last life, I called her my stepmother for thirteen years. She pulled me from dead last at a school in the slums to the top ten in the whole city, gave me the first dress of my life, and taught me how to sit straight at the Moreno dinner table and never bow my head to anyone. On the late nights when my father Leon got drunk and smashed his bottles, it was always her who closed my bedroom door first, then walked alone into the living room to face the man that love and power had already driven mad. Seven days after she died of her illness, Leon finally lost his mind. He charged into the sea off the old docks, screaming, "Sofia, I was wrong! I'm coming down to be with you!" I clung to him with everything I had, and in the struggle I fell into the freezing water myself. When I opened my eyes again, I was five years old. Sofia was crouched on the floor, tying my shoelaces. Her fingers were warm, the pads still carrying the thin calluses left by years of holding a pen over the ledgers. I threw my arms around her neck and buried my face in the crook of her shoulder. "Mommy, this time I don't want anyone else. I only want you."