Melodramatic Romance Short Stories & Homewrecker Cheating Novels

A month before my wedding, I've discovered a series of suspicious transfers made by my fiancee, Irene Lambert. The recipient is none other than her first love, Blake Chandler—the man she has never truly forgotten. For seven years, she has sent him 50 thousand dollars every month without fail. When I place the bank statements before Irene and demand an explanation, she barely looks up from her work. "Blake injured his right hand saving me. The money is simply compensation for what happened. Don't worry, money's the only thing I'll ever give him," she says evenly. I refuse to let the matter go, but even my friends urge me to overlook it. "It's only 50 thousand dollars. With how wealthy Irene is, she'd consider a watch at that price too cheap to buy for you. As a man, you've got to be the bigger person," they argue. With our wedding only a month away and seven years of history between us, I finally give in. That is, until I discover that our housekeeper, Olivia Harper, prepares a child's meal every afternoon and delivers it to Irene's office. When I confront Olivia, she stares at me in confusion. "Isn't that your child, Mr. Sanford? He's already around five or six years old—and he calls Ms. Lambert 'Mommy'."

While greeting guests on Christmas evening, I realize that my wife, Carol Wilson, is nowhere to be found. Just as I'm about to look for her, a barrage of comments flashes before my eyes. [They're getting it on in the balcony! Oh my god, things are really heating up between the male and female leads, even in this freezing weather! This is so exciting!] [It's all the villainous male side character's fault for being clueless and interfering in their relationship! If not, the female lead would have slept with her brother-in-law ages ago! ] I slowly head toward the balcony, but my parents-in-law, Harry Wilson and Rita Malone, immediately stop me. "Hey Alec, I already asked Carol to go and check on our reservations at the restaurant. It's almost time anyway. We should head out." [That was close! Good thing the female lead's parents were smart enough.] [Aww, the moment the female lead heard it was almost time to go, she fell right back into her brother-in-law's arms and got kissed so hard it left her breathless.] So, Harry and Rita are in on it, and they are lying to me to cover for Carol. I decide to do the exact opposite of what they want. I look at the balcony again—where the temperature is well below freezing—then turn to address the rest of the guests and relatives in the apartment. "It's freezing out there, so maybe we shouldn't put ourselves through such misery. I'll call the restaurant and change our reservation to a delivery instead. Let's all stay in and have fun all night long!" The comments, along with Harry and Rita, are all stupefied by my decision. [What? All night long? At this rate, the two leads are going to freeze into ice sculptures outside!]

Since it's already the end of the year, I'm slacking off at my job. That's when I come across a forum post on the Internet. "My husband has gone on a business trip on his own. This is the photo he sent me when he updated me on his situation. Everyone, can you please take a look at the photo and tell me if there are any problems with it?" The Internet users are quick to go into their Sherlock Holmes mode. Still, they aren't able to spot any problems with the photo. But a comment is quick to catch my attention. "Am I the only one who thinks that this post is a clickbait? Could it be that a disloyal jerk who's cheating on his wife wants to proclaim his devotion toward her but is scared that he might get caught? Maybe that's why this photo is uploaded here instead so that everyone can help him find out what's wrong with this photo!" As soon as the comment is posted, the original poster deletes the post instantly. This makes me frown. At the same time, my husband, Gavin Prescott, sends me a photo on WhatsApp. "Honey, here's my daily update! Your darling husband is still devoted to you as always!" As I stare at the photo, which is exactly the same one that was posted on the Internet, I feel my heart sinking. This is definitely not a coincidence!

I went to my best friend's place for her birthday, and out of nowhere, she started complaining. "I'm so jealous of you," she said. "Your boyfriend has basically no sex drive." "Mine's the complete opposite. He wanted it seven times last night. I was crying so hard I lost my voice, and he still wouldn't stop." I gave her a sympathetic smile. "That just means he's crazy about you. Unlike mine—he's practically celibate. Like a monk." She raised an eyebrow, casually stroking the two-million-dollar ruby bangle on her wrist. "He's not bad," she said, a hint of smugness in her voice. "He was with his ex for five years, but he still chose to marry me behind her back. He was so afraid she'd push for marriage that he faked going bankrupt and told her he had ALS. "The girl wouldn't let go, though. She sold her blood, her kidney—whatever it took—to scrape together money for his treatment. "She was working the graveyard shift at a factory, while he and I were fooling around in a twenty-million-dollar villa." I froze. To help my boyfriend Nathan Whitley pay for his ALS treatment, I had done all of those things. Before I could even process it, the door opened, and a tall, sharply dressed man walked in. "Babe," he said, "I got that strawberry flavor you like. How about wearing that silk nightie tonight?" Our eyes met. I stood there, frozen in shock, a chill running down my spine. It was Nathan Whitley—the man who was supposed to be broke, bedridden, and dying of ALS.

At a family gathering, my fiancée gently wiped her recently returned childhood friend’s mouth with a tissue right in front of me. “Sorry about that. Clairy had always been this thoughtful.” I nodded, then turned to her younger sister. I draped my jacket over her shoulders and fed her the shrimp I had just peeled. “If she was so thoughtful, I could not fall short on courtesy either.”

Even though my wife, Eunice Mercer, is afflicted with touch starvation, she never gets intimate with me over the five years of our marriage. I keep enduring her antics, but all I get in return is the sight of Eunice coming home with a little boy in her arms. "It's my fault for being allergic to you. Let me use this child to make it up to you." Two years later, when I'm about to settle some official paperwork for the child, I find out that his mother is actually Eunice. To make things worse, the staff member informs me that my copy of the marriage certificate is a fake. "Did you get swindled by someone? This is obviously a marriage certificate that's sold in stalls. You can buy a huge pack of them for just two dollars, you know." I hurry over to confront Eunice, only to overhear her conversation with her friends. "Dylan is finally coming back after all these years. That means you'll finally throw the wedding that's been delayed by five years, right? Otherwise, Jayden will seriously think that he's the master of the Mercer family." As Eunice toys with the certified copy of marriage certificate, she says with a light sigh, "Dylan has a rather unique job that requires him to leave for five years. Naturally, I need to find someone who can take care of the child and me. Jayden fits the bill just fine. "Then again, I still have to sell his chastity. That way, Dylan will truly believe that I've never slept with Jayden before." I can only clench my fists tightly as I feel my eyes reddening. Then, I flip through the messages in my phone helplessly. That woman who has always wanted to become my mistress finally has a chance to pursue me.

On my wedding night, I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance after a tampered condom left me in excruciating pain. The surgery took over twenty-four hours, and the story spread like wildfire. My husband, Alexander, let it be known that anyone who managed to photograph me in my post-surgery state would be rewarded with ten million dollars. Overnight, I went from being a billionaire's new wife to the laughingstock of every elite circle in New York. The next day, Alexander's childhood sweetheart Dahlia showed up at my door. That was when I learned the truth: she'd coated the condom with industrial-strength adhesive as part of what she called a "social experiment." She didn't show a shred of remorse. Her tone was flippant and cruel: "It was just an experiment. I mean, how was I supposed to know you'd react like that? Besides, we both know you were never good enough for Alexander. So drop the act." Alexander stood beside her, his gaze cold and dismissive: "If it weren't for the marriage contract, no one would've touched you. You know that, right?" What he didn't know was that the woman he was calling a slut had saved his life more times than he could count.

The night before we're supposed to go to the city hall to get married, my fiancee suddenly breaks the silence after we sleep together. "A man in his 30s simply doesn't have the stamina of a younger guy." I'm so caught off guard that I stop pulling my pants back up. Heather Reid rubs the red marks on her shoulder, as if savoring a memory. When she catches me looking, she lights a cigarette with a smirk on her face. "Last night, that young sweetheart of mine simply wouldn't leave me alone and kept asking for more." My breath catches, and all the color drains from my face. I stare at her. "What did you just say? Heather, quit messing around. We're supposed to get married tomorrow." As if she's just realized that she's forgotten to tell me something, Heather smiles and says casually, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Jake Palmer and I are already married. "He's been dying to make it official. I couldn't leave the poor thing hanging, could I?" It feels like someone has just hit me over the head with a sledgehammer. My mind starts to buzz as Heather says, "Dustin Holman, move out tomorrow. I bought you a house in Brockfield."

Everyone in Crowglade knows that my wife, Sophia Tuson, treats me and my son, Ashton Yates, as the apples of her eye. When I want to stargaze, she spends 100 million dollars to create an extravagant meteor shower for me. Ashton loves carousels, so she builds the biggest amusement park in the city and names it after him. She has never been stingy when it comes to showering us with love. When Ashton and I get into a car accident, Sophia hires a renowned medical team to save my life. Mustering what little strength I have left, I tell her to save Ashton first. Sophia's voice is thick with tears when she tells me that Ashton has already died of excessive bleeding on the way to the hospital. Overwhelmed by grief, I can't hold on anymore and faint. When I regain consciousness, I hear Sophia speaking with the doctor outside the door. "Mr. Ashton could have been saved, Ms. Tuson. Why did you just watch your son die without lifting a single finger to help him?" "The purpose of Ashton's existence is to save Harold's and my child," Sophia says nonchalantly. "I can't openly remove his heart and give it to Micah if he doesn't die. I've treated Gabriel and Ashton very well in the past few years. Now, it's their turn to repay me." It turns out that Sophia only treated me and Ashton so well because she wanted Ashton's heart in exchange for her kindness. She's the one who orchestrated the tragedy that befell us. If that's the case, I will grant her wish.

Throughout my five-year marriage with Irene Anderson, I never celebrated my birthday. That was because my birthday also was the death anniversary of her childhood friend’s mother, so she had to accompany Zac Reid, her childhood friend, to the cemetery to visit her. Not only that, but she also did not allow me to celebrate my birthday. She did not even allow me to smile. “Please be more considerate towards Zac. He’s very vulnerable on his mother’s death anniversary. Once he feels better, we’ll celebrate your birthday.” Every time my friends asked me carefully if they could celebrate my birthday, I could only force a smile and say, “Forget about it. Let’s do it next time.” It happened year after year, but she never fulfilled her promise. One year, Irene dressed in all black again and prepared herself to attend the memorial. Coincidentally, she saw the birthday cake that my family had specially ordered for me. She instantly grew angry and smashed the cake onto the floor. “You can eat cake at any time; why did you have to choose today? Are you that greedy?” I left the mess behind in the house and secretly followed behind her. In the cemetery, I saw her claiming herself as Zac’s wife and his mother’s daughter-in-law, and I felt exhausted. I walked over and took off my wedding ring. “Irene, let’s get a divorce.”

I've bought Mom a premium membership card at Juniper Group, which includes an all-inclusive medical screening every year. This year, her back has been giving her trouble, so she comes to Heston a bit earlier than usual. But when we walk up to the front desk at Juniper Hospital, the receptionist tells us that the coverage has already been redeemed. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this card was swiped three months ago at our pet center," she explains. "Your coverage is completely maxed out." Mom stares at her, frozen for a few seconds as if she has misheard. Then, she quietly says, "That's fine. I'll just pay out of pocket." It costs 398 dollars for the basic package, and it doesn't even include a bone density scan. When I get home that evening, she has made pasta for dinner. The hospital receipt sits on the table. I ask her how the checkup went, and she shrugs it off. "It went well. There just seems to be a glitch in their system." Later, I find out that the person who used the card is my boyfriend, Brandon Kaiser. He's taken it to Juniper Pet Center to cover a top-of-the-line vet exam for Goldie, the cat belonging to his childhood sweetheart, Alana Sutton. When I confront him and ask why he didn't bother to tell me, he just leans against the kitchen island, sipping a club soda. He doesn't even look up. "Your mom wasn't even in town yet," he mutters. "The cat needed urgent care, so I just used it." "That card belonged to my mom," I say. He gives a careless shrug. "Big deal. I'll just buy you a replacement later, alright? Just then, Mom walks out of the kitchen with a plate of crisp, freshly sliced apples and sets them down right next to my hand. She's heard every single word of our conversation. Yet, she doesn't say a word. She just turns right back around and heads into the kitchen to finish the dishes. As I look down at that plate of apples, a wave of clarity washes over me. I don't want him to replace the card anymore.

"Can I undergo surgery to widen my vaginal canal? My husband is… on the larger side. It's a bit too much for me to handle," a woman says. I stare at the attractive young lady before me, feeling slightly surprised. Most of my patients come to me for vaginal tightening procedures or hymen reconstruction surgery. Requests for vaginal widening surgeries are extremely rare. According to her medical file, the woman's name is Melanie Sanders. After a brief consultation, I examine her. Her vaginal canal is somewhat narrow, but her condition isn't severe enough to warrant surgery. I advise her against the procedure, but she refuses to reconsider. "My husband is quite… well-endowed. He's afraid of hurting me during sex, so he always tries very hard to hold himself back," she explains. "I can't bear to see him suffer. Please schedule the surgery for me as soon as possible, Dr. Smith." Her words make me think of my husband, Zachary Hudson, whose size has caused me pain during intimate moments on several occasions. Feeling my face grow hot, I quickly push the thought aside and schedule the woman's surgery. All of a sudden, the door to the consultation room bursts open, and a man marches inside. Before I can say anything, Melanie throws herself into the man's arms, calling him "honey". I stare at the couple, my blood running cold. As it turns out, the man she has been talking about is the same man I've been married to for two years.

My billionaire wife had just given birth when I was abducted and trapped in a sick, underground survival game. While I was sprinting through the woods with our newborn strapped to my back, Scarlett’s best friend’s voice boomed through the PA speakers. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your newborn and Damian? What are you doing here? Is your lover boy starting drama again?” Scarlett chuckled, her voice full of resigned affection. “Yeah. Jayden demanded some real entertainment. Damian thinks I have urgent work to take care of at the office, so he practically pushed me out the door while the kid was having surgery. He’s a sweet, naive idiot.” I tapped against the security camera lens, desperate to get Scarlett’s attention, but Jayden’s terrified scream distracted her into hitting the shock button on her remote control. The high-voltage electricity ran through me, and our newborn choked up blood, staining the earth. I curled around our son, sobbing in despair. As footsteps crunched closer, the high-rollers raised their stakes. It was a bet to see who would survive to the very end.

The first time I have an affair, it's with my wife, Josephine Yates' best friend, Lydia Bennett. When Josephine catches us red-handed in bed, I'm in the middle of enjoying myself, my cheeks insanely flushed. Josephine gets into a huge fight with Lydia afterward. Then, she proceeds to drink her sorrows away that night before choosing to forgive me. After we've patched things up, we grow even more lovey-dovey than when we first got married. In fact, we're known as the golden couple who are envied by all. That is, when Josephine catches me cheating on her again on our tenth year anniversary. This time, I'm sleeping with Victoria Fairfax, the senior whom Josephine admires and respects the most. Josephine is so furious that she almost suffers from a seizure on the spot. Having gone batshit crazy, she decides to commit joint suicide with Victoria. I can only sigh before pulling her into my arms. "This is my last time doing this. I promise that you're the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life." Josephine is in so much pain and agony that she's on the brink of despair. Still, she believes my words and treats me even better now. She showers me with lavish gifts, be it luxury watches, unique custom-fitted apparel, or limited-edition racing cars. As long as she can afford it, she'll strive to give me the best. Some people call me a freeloading husband. That night, Josephine makes sure that those people have vanished off the face of the earth. When I tell Josephine that I don't want children, she gets her tubes tied immediately. Everyone praises Josephine for being devoted. They also claim that I've married the right woman. I just smile and nod. "I've used up all of my luck to meet Josephine in my life." But on Josephine's 34th birthday, she spies a paternity test report on my desk. That's when she suffers from a complete mental breakdown. The child is mine, and yet she's never given birth before.

After her boyfriend bailed on their wedding, my best friend broke down crying and begged my fiance to step in and save the day. Blake Keller comforted me gently. "Dawn, Noelle and I grew up together. We've been close for years—closer than family, honestly. Today is just for show. Besides, our wedding's next week anyway, so think of it as a rehearsal in advance." I felt terrible for my best friend. After struggling with myself for a long time, I finally gritted my teeth and nodded. Just like that, I watched with my own eyes as my boyfriend, who was supposed to be the best man, became my best friend's "groom." At the wedding, Blake held Noelle's hand, his eyes filled with affection. When the officiant asked whether he was willing, he answered even more firmly than he had when he proposed to me. I kept telling myself not to take it seriously, that it was just an act and I should not overthink it. That was what I believed—until after they exchanged rings. The officiant smiled and said, "You may now kiss the bride." The crowd instantly started cheering, urging them to kiss. Blushing, Noelle hurriedly reassured me. "Dawn, don't worry. We'll fake it with the camera angle." I believed her. But in the very next second, Blake lifted her chin and deeply kissed her for real in front of everyone.

Garrick Langdon and Josephine Hawthorne had been together since their school days, all the way through to their wedding. They had once been the envy of everyone around them, a couple everyone considered a match made in heaven. In the fifth year of their marriage, Josephine had an affair. Garrick gently set a stack of damning photos on the desk in front of her. He did not yell or demand an explanation. He simply said, his voice remarkably calm, "Either he goes, or I take the kids and go." It was the first real storm they had faced since their wedding. In the end, Josephine chose her family. Life seemed to return to normal. Josephine came home on time every day, doted on the children, and treated Garrick with tenderness and care. But an invisible crack had formed between them, and things could never go back to the way they had been. One day, Garrick finished an interview early and decided to surprise the kids by picking them up from daycare himself. He had just reached the daycare gate when he saw his five-year-old twins, Caleb and Ruby, rush forward like two joyful little birds. With delighted laughter, they threw themselves into the arms of a tall, thin man in a gray coat. The man crouched down and welcomed both children into his embrace with a warm, affectionate smile. Garrick stopped dead in his tracks. His chest tightened inexplicably. The man was Silas Morrison, the very man Josephine had cheated on him with. Why was he there?

When Adrian Cozner went to a get-together with his fiancée and her friends, Lacey Mirren excused herself, saying she had something to take care of. Two hours passed. She still hadn't come back. Just as he was about to get up and look for her, he overheard her close friends mocking him in Portuguese. "This dumbass doesn't even know he's been cheated on." "Right about now, Lacey and Kevin are probably going at it." "Lacey said Adrian isn't as hung as Kevin. They've been childhood sweethearts. This poor idiot—ha, look at him, we're talking crap right in front of him, and he has no idea. So pathetic." Adrian had just started to stand up, but his body froze, his mind going blank. Right then, Lacey pushed through the door, face flushed, completely satisfied, sweat still glistening on her skin. "Haha, how was it? Isn't sneaking around a thrill? You're something else." "Absolutely. Couldn't get enough."

On the first day of New Year's, my good buddy, Vincent Wales, sent me a video. “Leon, take a look. Does this woman look like your wife? It’s all over.” In the video, a man and a woman were making out passionately. As the car rocked violently, the woman’s face came into view. It was unmistakably my wife. My blood rushed straight to my head. My hands shook as I dialed her number. “Hello, honey… What’s the matter?” Her breathing was uneven, like she had just been doing something intense. I was about to speak when she suddenly let out a few loud cries. “A-Ah… It’s nothing. I’ll hang up now. I’m just playing cards with friends." With that, all I heard was the dial tone. Playing cards? She had clearly told me she was working overtime!

On the day of our engagement banquet, my fiancée, Serena Sutton, pushed an inheritance agreement across the table with one hand resting on her seven-month pregnant belly. "When the baby is born, you'll be listed as his father. "And the inheritance rights of both the Carter and Sutton families will go to him." I finished reading the agreement and asked one question. "Who is the father?" The doors opened. Lucas Grant, the man Serena had never gotten over, walked in holding a glass of wine. He answered for her. "Me. "If you really love Serena, you should accept everything that comes with her. "The child can take your surname. It's not as though you're losing anything." The entire ballroom waited to see me humiliated. I folded the agreement and slipped it into my pocket. "Fine." Serena visibly relaxed. Then I added, "Since your family cares so much about inheritance, I'll help the Suttons choose a new heir today. "Starting with you."

After Melody cheated and returned to the family, I started posting online every day. [Is cheating addictive?] [Just how thrilling is cheating, really?] [When a woman cheats, does she feel worse for her kids or her lover?] … I tagged her school in every post, making sure each one appeared right in front of her students, her colleagues, and even her lover. Everyone told me to stop making such an ugly scene and be the bigger person. Only Melody stood up for me. "I'm the one who did something wrong. It's only fair to let Tony vent a little." That lasted until my 99th post. Then Melody stormed in as if she'd lost her mind and smashed my computer. "Anthony, are you ever going to stop? I already came back. What more do you want from me? How much longer do you have to torture me before you're satisfied?" I didn't answer. I simply washed every pot and plate until they were spotless. Then I smiled at her and asked, "Are you hungry? Want me to make you something to eat?"