Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Bias Cheating Novels

Every time Anthony Slim and I tried to get our marriage license, something went wrong. For three years, we tried thirty times. And every single attempt ended in an accident. The first attempt ended with a vagrant that went berserk and stabbed me four times. I nearly died outside the city hall. The second attempt ended with a speeding motorcycle crushing the bones of my hand. The third attempt ended with a burning mall, and I was trapped inside for three whole hours. … Everyone told me to cancel the engagement, but I stubbornly refused to give up. And then the 31st attempt ended with me getting rushed into the ICU. A billboard that fell from up high crashed right into me. I was rushed into the ICU with a severe head injury. The doctors issued one critical notice after another. For two months, I hovered between life and death before barely pulling through. Then on the day of my discharge, I overheard Anthony talking to his best friend. "If you really love that underprivileged student and want this marriage canceled, you can just tell Melissa. Why set up all those accidents? She nearly died." Anthony did not answer for a long time. When he did, his voice was filled with gloom. "I don't have a choice. Her family saved my life ten years ago, and her parents died in the process. This marriage contract is repayment of that favor. "But I only love Lily. I won’t marry anyone but her.” I looked at the bruises and wounds that decorated every inch of my skin and let out a broken cry. All the accidents and near-death experiences I went through were the machinations of another man, not actual mishaps. If Anthony was feeling stuck, I was more than happy to make that choice for him.

At the National Diving Championships, I pushed through the searing agony of seven painkiller injections in my shoulder to execute a flawless dive. Yet, I ended up losing by a mere 0.3 points to Seren Lockwood, whose splash was visibly far worse. Only after the event did I realize it was my boyfriend, Cassian Blackthorne, who handed me a bottom score of 65. I stormed into the judges’ lounge. “Cassian! You knew this event determined qualification for the world tournament, and you knew Seren didn’t dive better than me! Why give me the lowest score?” Cassian rubbed his temples with a weary expression. “Seren needs this spot far more than you do, Elowen. Just step aside for her this once. You’ll have other chances.” I was twenty-four. For a diver, there was rarely ever an “after.” Exhaustion washed over me. For three years, Cassian had used that same dismissive, disappointed tone to force my retreat. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was an email invitation that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks—an offer from the World Aquatics Federation in Switzerland to serve as the technical advisor and head coach for its youth team. I had repeatedly turned it down for Cassian’s sake. I unlocked my phone and tapped accept. “Elowen, you’ve always been the sensible one,” Cassian said softly. I looked up at him and smiled. This time, I had no intention of being sensible ever again.

On our wedding night, my husband suddenly stops when I'm seconds from the peak. "Josie, take a guess. Am I your husband… or his brother?" My husband, Calvin Graham, has an identical twin, Chester Graham. They have the same face and same build. I yank the covers over myself, feeling horrified. This voice belongs to Chester. The next second, Calvin shoves the door open and walks in. He comes straight to the bed, brushes his hand over my shaking back, and laughs. "Seriously? How stupid can you be? You can't even recognize your own husband. "As punishment, I'm registering my marriage with Mandy tomorrow. You slept with my brother, so I'll marry Mandy. It's a fair trade." The closet door bursts open. Calvin's so-called "bro", Mandy Beech, steps out with my best friend, Christine Johnson. Mandy excitedly holds up her camera and snaps away at me. "Called it! I win the bet, Cal! I knew your wife wouldn't be able to tell you two apart. It's not even hard. You've got a mole down there, and your brother doesn't!" Christine doubles over with laughter beside her, barely able to stand. "Please. Josie knew exactly what she was doing. She was shaking that hard because she was obviously loving the way Chester played with her!" Under the nonstop flashes and their mockery, I tighten my grip on the blanket. They've been playing this twisted game of "guess which brother" for six years, and they're still not sick of it. I am, though. Mandy can have the marriage certificate. And Calvin? She can keep him, too.

Halport's shipping tycoon is marrying off his daughter and making a high-profile scene by grandly parading 99 wedding ships across Lumina Harbor. Jeremy Sutton, my best friend, excitedly drags me over to watch the spectacle. I instinctively take a photo to send to my girlfriend, Hazel Shepherd. I suddenly see two familiar figures in my camera frame. Hazel, who is supposed to be working overtime, is wearing a diamond-encrusted satin wedding dress and holding the hand of her childhood friend, Chris Lussier, as they board the magnificent lead ship. I freeze for a moment, then angrily try to rush forward and confront them. But Jeremy grabs me and holds me back. "Chris has always been Hazel's fiance. You're just humiliating yourself if you walk over and cause a scene. "I feel so bad for Hazel, who pretended to be poor and stayed with you in that cramped apartment for eight years. I'm saying this as your best friend—show some self-respect and don't be a shameless homewrecker." I feel completely numb inside as the cold sea breeze brushes against my face. It turns out that the woman I have been with for eight years has been lying to me all along. Even Jeremy, my best friend, has known the truth all along and hides it from me. I suddenly receive a message from Hazel. "I just got off work and took on two more tutoring gigs, Sebastian. I'll work hard and save up the 12,000 dollars for the wedding fund soon. I'll then head back to your hometown to get married to you, Sebastian." I look at the wealthy heiress standing on the ship, finding the whole thing utterly ridiculous. "You don't have to do that anymore. Mom is telling me to return home for a blind date."

As soon as Danielle Bradford has recovered from her postpartum period, she brings her baby to the county clerk's office to register for the baby's birth certificate. "My baby's full name is Taylor Gardner. Her father is Matthew Gardner." The employee types on the keyboard, but his brows draw tighter afterward. "The system has flagged another child with the same name under the same father." His words leave Danielle momentarily stunned. Thinking that her ears have deceived her, she blurts out, "That's impossible! Our baby has just turned one month old!" But Danielle feels her phone buzzing in her pocket before she can finish speaking. She taps on the screen, only to see a photo sent by Matthew's assistant, Meghan Landry. In the photo, Matthew has his left arm wrapped around Meghan's waist while carrying a five-year-old boy with his right arm. The three of them stand in front of a kindergarten's entrance with smiles so bright that they practically sting Danielle's eyes. On the boy's chest is a nametag that clearly says "Taylor Gardner".

I was in the middle of revising my girlfriend, Gina Sullivan's doctoral dissertation, when I received her wedding invitation. In the acknowledgments, she thanked me as her brother. The next second, I received a voice message from her. "Ian, Mike and I are getting married so that it will be easier for his dad to arrange a faculty position for me. "Don't be upset. We've been together for seven years. Of all people, you should understand why I'm doing this." I stared at the screen, and my fingers stopped moving. I had paid her tuition for seven years. I even wrote her dissertation for her. She had promised that once she graduated, she would marry me. Now, she was about to graduate, but I wasn't the groom anymore. Our mutual friends immediately started chiming in in the group chat. [Come on, Ian. Be the bigger person. Gina didn't have it easy getting this far.] [The Fletcher family can give her opportunities you can't.] [You're a man. Don't sweat the small stuff. If you truly love her, you'll let her go.] That evening, Gina called again. "You have to come to our wedding. "I don't have any siblings, and Mrs. Jefferson already agreed to represent my family. "Besides, I'll only feel at ease if you're standing beside me." So, it wasn't that she was afraid I'd be heartbroken. She was simply certain that I loved her enough to forgo not only my dignity, but even my own mother, to make her wedding look respectable.

No one in Harbor City knew that Mia Sterling, the heiress who had once had countless men falling at her feet, couldn't even get her own husband, Mark Hayes, interested in her after they got married. The most humiliating time was when Mark had taken medication and still showed no reaction whatsoever. Mia curled up on the bed, her tears soaking into the pillow. Mark simply got up and calmly dressed. "Sorry, Mia. I still can't get aroused with you." They had been married for five years. And in those five years, he had said some version of that sentence more than eighteen hundred times. At their last family dinner, both sets of parents had started pressuring them to have a baby. But Mark wouldn't even touch her. Mia began tormenting herself with doubts. Was she really that unattractive to him? After struggling with the thought all night, she finally went to the most exclusive private club in the capital, determined to learn a few tricks from its most sought-after stripper. She handed the hostess a card. "Teach me everything you know." The stripper arched a brow, genuine surprise flashing in her eyes. "This is the first time I've had a socialite come to me for lessons."

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.]

I had been dating a photographer for seven years, yet I didn't have a single decent photo of myself. "I only photograph scenery, not people," Nina Jensen said. She even said her last relationship ended because her ex-boyfriend kept asking her to take pictures of him. So for seven years, I stayed quiet. I never asked or brought it up. That was until today, when I came across the latest post from my influencer friend, Julian Locke. [Let me show off my photographer. She's been taking amazing photos of me for seven years for free!] One of the top comments is: [It's an honor to photograph my muse.] The profile picture was completely white. The tone felt familiar, and it sent a chill through my entire body. Turns out, it wasn't that Nina didn't take photos of people. She just never wanted to take mine. 'Nina. If I don't exist in your viewfinder, from now on, you don't exist in my world either.'

My wife, Ariel Sweeney, would always buy me a new watch every time she cheated on me. We'd been married for four years, and I'd already collected 99 watches. That also meant I'd forgiven her 99 times too. This time, she went on a business trip for three days, and returned with a Patek Philippe watch worth ten million dollars for me. I then knew that it was time we got a divorce.

After six months overseas, I finally closed a multi-billion-dollar deal. But when I returned to the home I shared with Julian, the smart lock kept repeating: Unauthorized access. Please stay away. Only after the facial recognition failed ten times did it trigger the automatic alarm. A security guard’s baton slammed into the back of my knee, and the pain dropped me straight to the ground. Through gritted teeth, I told him I was the lady of the house. He looked me up and down, then laughed. “You can’t even get through the front door, and you expect me to believe you’re Mrs. Hale? “Everyone knows Mr. Hale dotes on his wife. He picks her up and drops her off every day, sends home piles of jewelry and designer bags. And then there's you... looking like a total charity case. As if a penniless nobody like you could ever pull off that lie.” It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me. Then I saw my best friend, Rachel, stepping out of the passenger seat of a luxury car that had just pulled up. Julian got out after her, carrying her soft leather heels in one hand and lifting her son from the back seat with the other. The moment Rachel walked up, the front door slid open automatically, and the smart system announced: “Door unlocked. Welcome home, Princess Rachel.”

A week before my wedding, I was in a car accident. My mother shielded me and was left seriously injured and unconscious, while I was diagnosed with temporary amnesia. Then came the day I was finally about to tell them my memory had returned. My fiancé, Ellis Townley, pulled my sister, Alyssa Corrigan, into his arms and said, as casually as anything, "Next week, Alyssa and I are getting married. "Since you've lost your memory anyway, you might as well forget all those feelings you never should've had. Stop clinging to me." I froze where I stood. The next moment, my brother, Kevin Corrigan, who had always doted on me the most, frowned in disgust. "You actually staged a car accident to force him into marrying you? Are you really that desperate for a man?" I went cold all over. It turned out that to them, I was never supposed to exist at all. If my memory had not already come back, I would have believed them. I thought that at least my mother loved me, but that night, I heard her voice while I was standing outside her hospital room. It was robust and full of energy. "I'm perfectly fine. It's just a scrape. That car was meant to target her. The plan was to keep her stuck in the hospital, out of the way until Alyssa's wedding is over. "Who knew she'd lose her memory too? Saves us a lot of trouble." My father chimed in, "Stay in bed a few more days and keep up the act. Don't give yourself away." The blood in my veins turned to ice. None of it had been an accident. They were all hoping I would forget everything and quietly step aside to make way for their happiness. I looked down at the wedding ring I had prepared long ago, resting in my palm, and smiled bitterly. If that was what they wanted, then I would give it to them.

“Get rid of it. Vivienne and I already have a daughter.” That was my husband’s response when I told him I was pregnant. Vivienne was my apprentice. Lucian was my mate—the Alpha who had fought beside me, taken bullets for me, and promised me a lifetime together. Their affair had started the night we formed our bond. Now he wanted me to lose our child because he had promised her that no other woman would bear his children. Before my mother died, she left four prophecies inside me. The first two saved my life. The third warned me never to marry Lucian. I should have listened. But when the fourth prophecy finally appears, it gives me an order I can’t accept: Do not sever the mate bond. Lucian knows about the warning. He uses it to keep me beside him, even as he lets his mistress turn me into a living target—and pulls the trigger himself when I fight back. Then their daughter disappears. Suddenly, the bond he refused to break becomes negotiable. To save his child, he’ll hand me over to the enemies who want me dead. He thinks I have nowhere else to go. He’s forgotten about Kasper. The ruthless Alpha of the Eastern Pack once offered a fortune for my head. Now he might be my only way out—and the only man willing to stand between me and Lucian. One broken bond. One dangerous bargain. One chance to choose my own future. But Lucian isn’t ready to lose me. And the closer I get to freedom, the more questions surface about the prophecies that shaped my life. Why does my husband know so much about my mother’s warnings? And why is he so desperate to stop me from learning the truth?

My fiancée, Harper Turner, kept a young lover at her private estate, and his features looked almost identical to mine when I was younger. She bought Dylan Cole limited-edition sneakers, took him to exclusive venues, and made sure he never crossed paths with me. Everyone in our circle knew I was the one boundary she would never cross. She had even bought the coffee shop I frequented simply because I'd once casually remarked, "The coffee here is really good." But this time, her pampered little lover had grown bold. He filmed a private video of himself with my fiancée and slipped it into the promotional video for our wedding. "Mr. Parsons, I know I'm only her kept man, but Miss Turner switched your vitamins with sleeping pills just so she could come see me. "While you two were preparing for the wedding, she kept increasing the dosage and coaxing you into taking them. She only wanted to make sure you were asleep so she could spend the night with me." That was when I finally realized that the woman who once would have stolen the stars from the sky for me had changed a long time ago. I wiped away my tears, closed the video, and dialed a number I hadn't called in years. "Seven days from now, I'm turning our wedding into a funeral. And I'll make sure she can never find me again."

The day I turn 18, Jacob Pratt and I make a promise to watch the sunset at Crescent Lake together after we graduate from college. He says that when the sunset spreads across the lake, we'll have a bright future waiting for us too. Four years later, the day finally comes. But on the day we're supposed to leave, I suddenly come down with a high fever and have to stay at the hotel. That evening, I still can't bring myself to miss the sunset I've been waiting years to see. So after taking some medicine, I go to the lake alone. When I step onto the viewing platform, I see Jacob kissing my best friend, Susie Kinsella, under the sunset. His best friend, Andy Hall, is holding a camera, grinning as he records them. Susie leans against Jacob. "What if Hannah finds out about us?" Andy snorts. "You've hidden it from her for six months without getting caught. Why are you worried now?" "When are you going to tell her?" Susie looks at Jacob. With his eyes on the sunset, Jacob replies calmly, "I'll tell her when we get back. I promised to come with her to Crescent Lake, and I've kept my promise." He pulls Susie close. "From now on, you're the only one I'll share views like this with." Their laughter blends into the cheers from the crowd. No one notices me just a few steps away. I take off the necklace Jacob gave me, put it on the bench by the lake, and leave. At 18, I thought watching a sunset together was the perfect ending to love. At 22, I finally understand that even though the promise has been fulfilled, the person who promised to watch it with me has already fallen for someone else.

The eighth time I catch Philip Mumford cheating on me, he pours a bottle of concentrated disinfectant over his groin. "Happy now?" Amid the wreckage, his face is deathly pale as he looks at me like I'm the one who has lost my mind. It's the first time he's ever backed down. I stand frozen, clutching a piece of broken porcelain, suddenly feeling completely lost. During our worst fight, I strap dynamite to myself and his mistress, forcing him to choose between us. In response, he has himself and my parents tied to five semitrucks chained together, then smiles and asks if I still want him to choose. That's how we spent ten years torturing each other, neither of us willing to give in, back down, or walk away. Now, he looks at me with something close to pity. "Leave Vivian alone," he says. "She's normal, not crazy like you. Punish me all you want—just leave her out of it." I stare at him. "What do you mean?" A faint, tired smile touches his lips. "It means I'm giving up. Happy now? Isn't this what you wanted all along?" Yes, he's giving up. But it's obvious who he's doing it for. The hatred burning in his eyes makes the past ten years feel like a cruel joke I played on myself. At that moment, a wave of helplessness washes over me. Suddenly, I just want us to let each other go.

In her past life, Elara Newman had married Orion Baron, who turned out to be an absent husband. On the day she gave birth, she suffered a severe hemorrhage and lost consciousness. However, Orion was unreachable. After she was snapped awake by the doctor, she had to sign her name on the surgical consent form while her hands were still shaking. When her children caught a raging fever, Orion was still nowhere to be seen. She had to rush to the hospital all by herself, and after three consecutive days of looking after them, she was exhausted and passed out in the corridor. On the day when her parents passed away in a car accident, Orion was still absent. As she returned home with the urn containing her parents' ashes, she was greeted by a vicious slap across the face. Her uncle immediately berated her for failing to win her husband over. He blamed her that her parents never got a chance to see their son-in-law before they passed and could never rest in peace. By the time Elara turned fifty-eight, she was terminally ill with cancer. Her life was coming to an end.

In the two weeks leading up to our fifth wedding anniversary banquet, my wife's secretary, Ronald Piper, sent me photos of the two of them in bed every single day. I pretend not to know. On the day of the banquet, my wife, Jessica Tuttle, books out an entire hotel and gives a heartfelt speech, saying that I am the person she is most grateful for in this lifetime. Everyone applauds through tears. Over the years, Jessica, the aloof and capable CEO, has flown a thousand miles overnight just to come home and cook me broth when my stomach hurts. And when she is sentenced to imprisonment, I willingly serve two years behind bars in her place without hesitation. To outsiders, we are a perfect couple who are deeply in love with each other. While cutting the cake, I notice the pendant on Ronald's wrist. I had to call in every favor I had to get that pendant for Jessica. Back then, she says to me, "As long as the pendant stays on, our love remains. If it's ever removed, our relationship is over." I look at Jessica, who sighs with a helpless and indulgent expression. "Felix, Ron has been having nightmares lately. He's been down with a fever, too. I lent it to him for a few days to ward off bad luck. Don't argue with a kid over something so small, okay?" She then pats Ronald's shoulder reassuringly and urges, "You should thank Felix. He's always been understanding. It's just a trinket. He wouldn't be reluctant to part with it." Ronald looks at me timidly and says, "Thank you for letting me have it. With it protecting me, I can finally sleep peacefully every night while holding it in my arms. When I get better, I'll give it back to you." My best childhood friend is furious upon hearing this. "How can you turn a blind eye to all this?" he hisses. Of course I can.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

Even after more than three years of marriage, Samuel Ferguson still seemed impossible to satisfy. After the third round, he brushed a tear from the corner of Tania Russell's eye, a roguish smile playing at his lips. "Did you cry from the pleasure? Want me to carry you to the shower?" Tania turned her head, avoiding him, her fingers digging into the sheets until her knuckles went white. Steam rolled through the bathroom, wrapping a set of broad shoulders and a narrow waist in a haze of heat — but that heat could not thaw the icy chill in her heart. An hour ago, in the throes of passion, the name "Lulu" had slipped from his lips, and it still lingered in her mind. All those years, he had always called her simply "Tania." After a moment, she wiped her tears, reached for the phone on the bedside table, and stepped out onto the balcony. "Elias, investigate Samuel for me. I think… he's cheating." "A lead?" Elias did not waste time. "He used to call her 'Lulu'".