Maiikling Kwento tungkol sa Plot Twists at Romance, at mga Nobela ng Bias na may Cheating

When I found out my wife was pregnant with her lover’s baby, I thought I’d lose my mind just like the first time I caught her cheating, smashing up the whole house like a lunatic. Instead, I looked at our antique vase and realized it was far too expensive to break over them. It just wasn't worth it. Later, walking past a bakery, I thought seeing her buying baby supplies with Joseph would ruin my appetite. Yet, to my surprise, the cake I bought tasted better than usual. Before going to bed, that familiar dark urge to swallow a handful of sleeping pills crept up on me again. I thought I was about to lose my mind and take the most drastic measures to get back at that despicable couple when my therapist sent a message, reminding me once more to go outside and get some fresh air. So, I headed south to soak in the sun and feel the ocean breeze. For twenty-seven whole days, I didn’t think about them once. That was until my wife, Sarah, called. “There are three days left in our divorce waiting period. Don’t forget to come back so we can finalize the paperwork. “Don’t worry, Daniel. This is just temporary. After I have the baby, we’ll remarry. You know you’re the only one I love.” Only after her reminder did I remember the divorce was even a thing. This time, though, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to play their games anymore. So, with the ocean breeze on my face, I said almost without thinking, “How about this time, we end it for good?”

My fiancee, Winona Ziegler, moves her childhood sweetheart, Caeden Gardner, who has just come back from abroad, into our future marital home. When ordering takeout, I add an eight-dollar omelette and a five-dollar caramelized onion soup to the order, but Winona deletes them all in disgust. "Caeden can't stand the smell of onions. Do you want to make him throw up? Can't you just have some plain water?" Moments later, she orders a seafood feast worth a thousand dollars for him, complete with king crabs and a premium seafood boil. Holding a glass of plain water, I watch her fuss over Caeden with endless concern. Then, my phone vibrates. My bank account has just been charged 1,000 dollars. She uses my money to spoil her childhood sweetheart, yet refuses to even buy me an omelette that costs eight dollars. Five years of love completely fall apart in that moment. This time, I don't argue or beg like I used to. I simply pick up my phone and press "Freeze Authorized User Card".

When her five-year-old son is crying and asking Ember Lawson to jump into the pool in the middle of winter just to retrieve his toy, she refuses. She says, "Ian, you don't need to try so hard to get me sick. Don't worry, from now on, I won't get in between you, your daddy, and Bella." From his young age, Ian Grant has already inherited Nathan Grant's good looks. Frowning, he asks, "Really? But Mommy, you always get jealous and throw tantrums, and we're always upset around you. But Bella is different. Daddy and I get so happy whenever we see her." They both love Bella Sadler.

When it's almost time to get off work, Mason Lakeworth's coworkers drag him over to the window and point excitedly at a gorgeous woman downstairs. She's shown up outside their newspaper's building at exactly the same time for seven days in a row. "I did some digging! That's Lindsay Statham, the heiress of Heronvale's richest family. No wonder she drives a supercar with a custom vanity plate!" "And she looks good, too… Too bad she was set up and forced into getting married at a young age five years ago. I wonder which guy hit the jackpot and landed a woman like that." "But seriously, she's been coming to our crappy building for a full week. What is she even here for? Mason, you're always the last to leave. Have you seen who she's waiting for?" Mason stands off to the side in silence, saying nothing for a long time. His coworkers don't really expect him to answer anyway. They all start talking over each other, throwing out ideas. "Wait, Mason—you've been desperate for cash lately, right? Here's your golden ticket. Our new finance column is still short on a star interview. If you can land an exclusive with Lindsay Statham, the boss will definitely give you a huge bonus. You won't have to worry about your son's medical bills anymore!" Mason still doesn't respond. After a while, he withdraws his gaze from the window and finally speaks, his voice so calm it's almost numb. "My son died two weeks ago." He pauses, then adds, "And Lindsay… is my wife—the one I've been secretly married to for the past five years and the woman you're all so curious about."

While verifying the numbers for next month’s mortgage, I opened the shared Notes folder my husband and I kept on iCloud. I stumbled upon a hidden folder titled “100 things to get Ava out of Clyde”. The list was extensive. “1. Tell Dawn the budget for the outreach program’s been cut. Use the money put aside for the SUV to help Ava run her own bed and breakfast. “2. She has her eye on the custom platinum necklace. Place an order tomorrow.” I stared at my mobile screen, my blood running cold. Mike had spent the past year working in a remote community. When I found myself in the ER with a high fever, Mike simply told me, “Reception’s terrible out here. Just drink plenty of fluids.” I probed him with a text. “Babe, can you pick me up a silver bracelet while you’re in Black Mountain next week?” Mike was quick to respond. “There’s nothing around here but farms and dirt roads. Stop asking for expensive stuff. I’m busy.” Minutes later, I watched the note update in real time. “3. Dawn wants a silver bracelet, but I can’t get her one because every jeweler within a hundred miles is busy finishing Ava’s one-of-a-kind jewelry pieces.” With my eyes glued to the screen, I chuckled. Not voicing any issues, I simply tapped on the family relocation consent form tied to his transfer request and declined it. Mike sent a voice note right there and then; his tone of voice weary and dismissive. “Babe, I know this assignment has been hard. When I come home, why don’t we have the wedding we never got to have?”

Ten years into my marriage with Shannon Jervis, the golden girl of the elite world, I received a video that changed everything. When I confronted her with my phone in hand, she remained calm and simply shrugged. “I have nothing to explain. Your health has always been poor. I didn’t dare push you to try something you couldn’t handle. But people have needs, don’t they?” I froze in place. My arm went numb as I held onto my phone. “So, that’s your excuse?” Shannon did not reply. She only looked at me with a detached, indifferent gaze. “To be honest, you haven’t been someone I could proudly show off for years.” I stared at her, and something inside me went cold. The forever we had promised each other had only lasted ten short years.

There's a running joke in my circle about the biggest doormats around, and I've topped that list for years. Turns out there's something even sadder than being a doormat: getting your wedding banquet canceled ten times by your fiancée. The first time, Melissa Ferguson had to stay behind and nurse her childhood friend, who'd taken a bad fall. The second time, her childhood friend was starting his first day of work, and Melissa couldn't stop worrying about him. ... The tenth time, her childhood friend got into it with a client at work, and Melissa tore off her veil and bolted out the door without a second thought. The wedding guests openly mocked me and turned the whole thing into a joke again. But I'd already made a decision. I'd go after my own goals from now on. No more wedding. Melissa and I were done. She went her way, and I'd go mine. One day, I walked straight out to the car waiting outside and went to make something of my life.

George Matthews had a peculiar habit of arranging tasks according to his priority. I jokingly asked him, "The wedding is a huge thing. That's probably first on the list, huh?" But he merely replied, "I have something else to handle first." I never understood what could possibly be more important than our wedding. Not until I came down with appendicitis. George was sending me to the hospital when he suddenly made a sharp turn. He casually explained, "Kayley cut her hand. She faints at the sight of blood. I need to go get her." Kayley Greene was my best friend and his assistant. I was in so much pain that I could barely sit upright, yet George still left me alone in the car. Just then, his laptop beeped. I found a to-do folder on the screen. "Prioritize things Kayley asked for help with." "See the Northern Lights with Kayley in Ebrax." "Help pay off Kayley's debt." A whopping 208 tasks related to her. I scrolled all the way to the bottom. Only then did I finally see the word—wedding. So the thing that mattered most to me had always been last on his list. I moved the mouse. Then I deleted it. Since the wedding was not important, he could forget about it.

During the break, I went on a trip to Palmera with my fiancee, Serena Saunders. However, she booked not one, but two queen-bed rooms. She arranged for her male subordinate, Nathaniel Xavier, to stay in her room so she could take care of him more easily, while she stuck me in the other room with his dog, Jack. Standing in the hotel lobby, I canceled both of their return flight tickets before informing her that the wedding was called off. Serena looked incredulous as she asked, “Are you seriously throwing a fit over a room assignment? You know Nat is scared of the dark.” “Oh, is that so? Is that why you’re wearing matching pajamas with him and sharing a bed?” I retorted sarcastically. Nathaniel hugged his dog and teared up. “Rena, it’s my fault. My health issues are always such a burden. Charlie has every right to be upset. I’ll just go to sleep in the hallway.” Serena looked at him with sympathy and held his arm, saying, “Sleep in the hallway? No way! He’s the one who should leave. “Charlie, I paid for this whole trip. You don’t get to act entitled. What right do you have to be so picky? “If you don’t want to stay, pack your things and go back to your broke little hometown. Honestly, the only reason I even brought a country bumpkin like you along was to make Nat happy.” She knew this trip was supposed to be our pre-honeymoon trip. She also knew I would put up with just about anything to keep the peace. I had planned to hold on until the wedding day. But seeing their fingers tightly laced together made me nauseous. I truly did not want to marry her anymore.

I was an Ageless. Many years ago, because of nothing more than a single loaf of bread, I became indebted to Sheila Johnson in a way I could never escape. The only way to find my way home was to grant 100 of her wishes. Her very first wish was for me to become her lover. To repay that debt, I stayed by her side without ever asking for a name or a promise. I taught her what it meant to love, and I shared countless long nights with her until our lives became inseparable. For the next three years, every wish she made was astonishingly simple. She only wanted to see me smile a little more. Then, during the annual Winter Festival, she released hundreds of glowing lights into the night sky. They drifted ever higher, shimmering across the heavens like a river of fallen stars. As she watched the breathtaking display, she whispered her 96th wish. "May we never part from each other." Yet only a few days later, she ordered every trace of my existence at Johnson Manor erased before casting me out of the estate. As I stood alone in the middle of a raging snowstorm, I heard her casually speaking to her friends as though I had never mattered at all. "Whatever you do, don't let Keith find out that I once confessed my feelings to another man. "You all know Keith has always been the one I loved. If he hadn't been sent to the neighboring kingdom as a hostage when we were still children, I never would have needed someone else to take his place. "Now that the king of the neighboring kingdom is dead, I've already arranged for Keith to fake his death and return safely. This time, I'm going to marry him. I won't let myself have any regrets."

We were having a gathering before graduation. My girlfriend and best friend were getting congratulated by the whole class. They had gained guaranteed spots into the campus' top course's postgraduate program. I was sitting in a corner, staring at the Hertford University offer that would ensure I went straight to my doctorate. I hesitated on making a decision for three days just for my girlfriend. Howard Herbson, my best friend, turned to me. He had a look of pity and condescension in his eyes as he said, "How about your job hunt? Don't worry. Not getting into the postgrad program isn't the end of the world. The lab's requirements are ridiculous. "It's going to be near impossible for you to progress there even if you work yourself to the bone." Beatrice Shaw, my girlfriend, handed Howard a glass of water. Then, she chimed in matter-of-factly, "Yeah. Research just isn't for everyone. You should get a nine-to-five. When Howard and I are swamped with us, you can help us out and do our errands." They exchanged a smile and kept me out of their so-called intellectual circle. These two thought they were better than everyone else just because they got a spot in this campus' postgrad program. How droll. So, I went back to that offer and accepted it. These people were so vastly beneath me that it was really about time for me to stop playing their games at their level, especially when I was obviously not welcome.

Five years ago, I witnessed my wife, a university professor, having an affair with Henry Bale, her teaching assistant. Mindy Holmes knelt begging me not to expose her, saying that it would destroy his reputation as a student. I agreed on the condition that he would drop out of school, leave this city, and never return. She would have to sign an agreement to leave the marriage without a single cent if she were to be unfaithful to me again. Everyone rebuked me for being vain and for treasuring money more than our relationship. However, Mindy was willing to go against the entire Holmes family just to preserve Henry’s reputation. Five years later, when I went on a business trip in another city, I found a little girl. I sent her to a police station and had her contact her family. When the policeman dialed the number the girl recited to him, I heard a familiar voice through the phone. “Be good. Don’t be afraid, I’ll come pick you up right away.” Less than half an hour later, Mindy rushed into the station when she was supposed to be at her class miles away. I sat on the bench, my gaze meeting hers. She stood stunned. I stood up with a smile. “Mindy, I didn’t know you had a daughter behind my back. Looks like you can bid goodbye to your reputation as a highly-esteemed professor.”

The most spineless heiress and the most arrogant heiress in Jindale happen to come from the same family. When my half-sister, Sienna Thomson, holds my head over a toilet bowl, the fleeing wealthy heir, Daniel Lowe, shoots clean through both of her hands. "She is the future mistress of Jindale! No one touches her!" Spiteful to her core, Sienna doubles down on tormenting me while sabotaging Daniel at every turn on his path to power. Daniel fights tooth and nail for ten years. On the very day he finally claims the throne of the Lowe family, he books a luxury suite to propose to me. Yet when I push open the door, I find him naked in bed with Sienna. Everyone gasps in shock. After all, it's no secret that Sienna is our common enemy. Sienna sneers, brazenly flaunting the red marks all over her body. "Daniel, don't tell me you mistook me for Charlotte again. You're as sharp as a tack tonight. You handed that Eastia project to me on a silver platter, didn't you? How long are you going to keep fooling yourself? You like a powerful woman. You can't stand a weakling like Charlotte." A faint smile stays fixed on Daniel's face, yet he doesn't deny it. Amidst collective gasps, he casually picks up the ring and tries to slide it onto my finger. But I hold back my hand. I just ask, "You once told me that the moment you were in charge, I could do whatever I wanted with Jindale. Does that still stand?" He freezes, assuming I will yield as I always have over the last decade, and nods with a smile. "Of course." I smile too.

When my wife, Stephany Jones, cries into her pillow again in the middle of the night, I pretend to be sound asleep. Six months ago, the man she has never been able to forget, Chase Barker, gets divorced and returns from overseas. From that moment on, her eyes and her emotions are once again consumed by the love she can never quite let go of. She is a good wife and a good mother. Every asset we own is under my name, and she insists on handing over her entire paycheck for me to manage. All this time, she suppresses her feelings for Chase and never crosses the line that would betray our marriage. But this fragile restraint is shattered the day she secretly sells one of her kidneys behind my back to buy Chase a property. I hand over a divorce agreement, as well as half of our marital assets, to her and say, "There's no need to sell organs just to finance your true love. Half of our assets should be enough to cover your dating expenses."

Kyson Ellis, the young man sponsored by my wife, Lara Sterling, earned a near-perfect SAT score and was accepted into one of the country's most prestigious universities. As a reward, Lara granted him "Adult Privilege." At a business dinner, Lara had him sit in my seat while our clients toasted him. Smiling, she introduced him to our partners. "He just turned eighteen, so I'm letting him experience the adult world a little early. Turns out he's even more mature and gracious than Nolan Taylor, my husband." She even handed him access to our joint bank account, claiming it was to "teach him how adults manage money." When I merely glanced through the transaction history, she instinctively stepped in front of him and shot me a cold look. "He only bought ten Rolex watches. Kyson is learning how adults handle money. What's wrong with that? You weren't even this responsible with money back then." After a long day at the office, I came home to find Kyson wearing my silk pajamas, sprawled across the bed in our master bedroom, scrolling through his phone. Lara sat beside him, feeding him blueberries. She looked up at me and said matter-of-factly, "The guest room doesn't get enough light. It'll strain his eyes if he uses his phone in there. You can sleep in the guest room tonight. You're an adult. Don't pick on a kid." I stared into her eyes without saying a word. So this was how it worked. Whenever it suited her, Kyson was old enough to enjoy "Adult Privilege." And the moment it didn't, he was a child again.

In the seventh year of being a caretaker for my comatose wife, Gwen Anderson, I got a well-paid job request. [Accompany my wife for her pregnancy check. I’m paying ten thousand dollars for a half-day task.] When I arrived at the hospital, I saw Gwen, who was supposedly in a coma, smiling as she talked on the phone. “It’s just a check-up. It’s not my first time being pregnant anyway. Why do you have to hire someone to accompany me? “That’s right. I bought the mansion located in the south of the city. It’s only a few hundred million dollars. Just treat it as your birthday gift for this year! “Why are you bringing Zac up? If he didn’t fake his illness on the day you came back to the country, we wouldn’t have wasted a month! “I pretended to be in a coma for seven years so he would pay off my debt. That is the punishment he deserves.” I was stunned. To pay off the debt, I sold my assets, my company, and even my family heirloom. Just as I was about to step forward, Gwen said cruelly, “Alright, I’ll listen to you. I’m tired of pretending for so many years anyway.” The next second, my phone buzzed. It was a text. [Zac, I’ve woken up.]

It was my and my wife Camille’s ninth wedding anniversary. I had rushed home with a fertility specialist in tow, hoping to surprise her. However, when I pushed the front door open, the house was already full of laughter. I walked in, heart pounding, to find Camille holding a little boy by the hand. Her voice was soft and warm. "Today is Miles's first day of school celebration. I want nothing but the best for my baby." Camille heard me come in and turned around. She walked toward me, snatched a pot of hot soup off the table, and flung it straight at me. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm married! I have a family! Stop trying to get me to have your kids, you freak!" I fought through the pain in my arm and grabbed her, desperate for an explanation. She wrenched free and slapped me hard across the face, then grabbed everything within reach and hurled it all at me. "If you don't get out of here, I'm calling the cops, you psycho!" Then she winked at me, took the boy by the hand, and walked over to the elderly couple nearby. "Mom, Dad, don't worry about him. He's nobody." I stood there, watching the happy family in front of me. I looked down and forced the ring off my finger, the one I had worn for nine years, and tossed the blood-streaked band at Camille. "Camille, deception always comes at a cost."

On Valentine’s Day, my fiancé, Declan Whitmore, was rushed to the ER in the middle of the night with severe food poisoning after eating undercooked wild mushrooms. In his delirious haze, he blurted out, “Brielle, I’m so sorry... If I hadn’t been dead broke back then, I never would’ve ended up with Vivian.” I was Vivian Thornfield. And Brielle Ashcombe was the girl he had loved and lost—his unforgettable ex. He seemed to have forgotten that after the Whitmore family went bankrupt, Brielle abandoned him without a second thought and fled abroad. Over the past eight years, I was the one who paid off every cent of his debts and stayed loyally by his side. I calmly called off our engagement and tossed the ring straight into the trash. He sneered, “Can’t you be a little more open-minded? Brielle would never throw a petty tantrum like you.” I smiled faintly. “Fine. You’re trash anyway—you can go right back to her.”

After dinner with my college roommates at a restaurant in the Old Harbor district, the rain came down hard without warning. We huddled under the awning, pulling our coats tight, calling our boyfriends one by one.My friend Maya nudged my shoulder with a grin. "Your guy chased you so hard the entire school knew about it. He'll definitely be the first one here." "Right? Four years of college. Hot coffee delivered to your door on rainy days, your bike path shoveled clean in the snow, and whenever you didn't feel like getting up for class, he'd organize the professor's lecture notes and send them straight to your inbox." "That year you had your senior exhibition and came down with a high fever, he stayed with you in the studio for three days. Made you soup, fixed your models, stayed up so late his eyes were bloodshot. Evelyn, I honestly thought you'd found yourself a fairy-tale prince." They chattered on about my love life. Before long, their boyfriends all showed up with umbrellas. When they glanced my way, their expressions faltered. "How come Noah isn't here yet? Isn't your apartment just across the river?" I smiled and held up my phone. "He said something came up at the office." Maya asked her boyfriend to drop me off first. I sat in the back seat, spotted a familiar figure standing outside the pet grooming salon on the corner. He was cradling a silver-gray longhaired cat in his arms. The cat was wrapped in a soft little wool blanket. He was shielding even its ear tips, terrified of letting a single drop of rain touch it. It was Noah. The cat in his arms belonged to his childhood neighbor, Selena. This wasn't the first time Noah had left me stranded in the rain for that cat.Another message from Noah. "Babe, the rain's too heavy. Wait until it lets up and then call a car home. Don't be stubborn. You won't get wet that way." What he didn't know was that from the day Selena moved to this city last year, I had already been soaked through.

At the top of a high-altitude stunt platform at Highspan Adventure Park, Vanessa Blythe suddenly unclipped the primary safety line behind me. Before I could react, she shoved me from the edge. I crashed onto the emergency airbag below, and pain tore through my entire body. When the staff hauled me back up, her childhood friend Mason Lowell was holding up his phone, laughing until he could barely breathe. The screen replayed my humiliating fall again and again. "Vanessa, did you see his face?" The moment he laughed, Vanessa finally relaxed. Mason was autistic, but for some reason, watching me suffer always delighted him. So during the ten years Vanessa and I were together, scenes like this happened countless times. When I lost my job, Vanessa hung a banner and celebrated with him. When I was hospitalized after a crash, she stood outside my room with him and laughed. Every year on his birthday, she made me dress as a clown to entertain him. She knew that undoing a safety line at that height could kill me. But if it made Mason happy, Vanessa never hesitated to put me in danger. Blood from my split forehead blurred my vision. As I wiped it away, I suddenly wanted to walk away from the ten years I'd spent refusing to give up.