Homewrecker Romance Short Stories & Marriage Novels

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

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?"

I'd been in a secret relationship with Nathan for six years. He said we couldn't go public because of his career. So we always split the bill, and anniversary gifts never cost more than fifteen dollars. The night before our anniversary, I asked him for the sixth time when he'd come home with me to meet my family. He turned me down again. "Ivy, I just think things are moving a little fast. Marriage is a lifetime commitment, after all." So I went home alone, carrying the expensive cheese and wine he'd bought for my mom. I pushed open the door and found the living room trashed. My stepsister Chloe stood there with a smug grin on her face. "Mrs. Mercer, you owe my family a million dollars. You've been stalling long enough. Time to settle up, don't you think?" Years ago, my father had an affair, and Chloe's mother orchestrated the whole thing. My mom ended up saddled with a mountain of debt, and my father took the easy way out with a divorce. When I said nothing, Chloe scoffed, "What's wrong? Don't want to own up to it? "That's fine. My husband happens to be the best lawyer in the city. He's never lost a case. "This is his first year coming home with me for the holidays. Perfect time to show you what 'pay what you owe' really means." I crouched down to shield my mother, the words of protest dying on my lips. The next second, a familiar figure stepped out from behind Chloe. It was Nathan.

"Jump. You love me to death, don't you? Didn't you say you'd do anything for me?" Ethan Hart wanted me to throw myself off the observation deck of the tallest tower downtown, live, in front of the millions of people watching the broadcast. I stood on the wrong side of the railing. Below me, traffic streamed through the streets and neon flickered in the distance. His friends clapped and cheered. Vivian Lane laughed softly and curled herself against his arm. Ethan's grin turned vicious. "Come on, don't waste everyone's time. Jump, and I'll marry you." He'd made me a promise once. Finish a hundred of his demands, and he would marry me. When his company was circling bankruptcy, he told me to hand over everything I owned, and I did. Then he moved Vivian into my house in the suburbs and left me to sleep in a motel. The night he was tangled up with Vivian at a private party, he sent me over with something for his hangover, and made a point of telling me to bring a box of condoms, the right size. I stood at the door holding the soup I'd made, and heard him laugh. "She's my ATM. I use her, then I throw her out." No matter how far it went, I'd done all ninety-nine. This was the last one: jump. He thought I'd hesitate, thought I'd cry and beg him to pick something else. I didn't. I let go and fell. The wind roared in my ears, and the whole lit-up city slid past me. I heard him shout, heard the crowd scream, and underneath all of it, the one voice I'd waited too long to hear. [Congratulations, host. Emotional conquest progress: one hundred percent. Reward delivered. Your mother's terminal illness is fully cured.]

On the day of the wedding, Steve Lane, my fiancee Ruby Clark's ex-boyfriend, uses a Reconciliation Voucher to swap the wedding and make it his own. This time, I don't argue or make a scene. Instead, I just calmly take off my wedding ring. My hand freezes in midair as I hold it out, and I say, "Ruby, if you change the groom, we're completely over." She takes the wedding ring and smiles helplessly. "Ivan Turner, don't say things you don't mean. I promised Steve that if he ever used the Reconciliation Voucher, I would give him a wedding. I can't go back on my word. But don't worry. The wedding is just a show. You're the only one who will be my husband. We'll go register our marriage tomorrow." She gives me a reassuring hug, then steps quickly onto the stage and puts the ring on Steve's finger. Watching her gentle profile, I let out a soft laugh. Not only does she not know that I have a Reconciliation Voucher too, but it has also taken effect just now.

The staff member handed the marriage certificate back to me. "Mr. Evans, this marriage certificate is a forgery. According to our records, Mrs. Fielder's spouse is Marcus Brown. They have a six-year-old son together." The words on the certificate blurred before my aching eyes. I held my daughter tightly in my arms as my ears rang. A second later, my phone vibrated. A message had arrived from Marcus, Natalie's assistant and her legal husband. Marcus: [Matthew, my wife is at our son's parent-teacher conference. She doesn't have time to register your illegitimate daughter.] I clutched my phone and stared at the message until tears blurred my vision. So I was the other man all along. The grand wedding we'd once held, the years we'd spent inseparable, the marriage I'd been so proud of... None of it had been real. On the way home, I called the woman Natalie hated most, her sworn enemy. "I'm single now. If you're still willing, I'll marry you in seven days," I said.

Everyone at Hartwell Group knew I loved Julian without a shred of dignity. I was the one who got him through his four most dangerous years. When there was an incident at one of the hotels, I went in his place. When the press had the group surrounded, I stood in front of the cameras for him. When protesters closed in on him, I put myself between them and took more than a dozen stitches in my arm. So when Julian gained full control of the group, our divorce became final, and he immediately announced his engagement to my sister Claire. Everyone looked at me with pity. I could accept that Julian did not love me. I could accept that on the very day our four-year marriage ended, he got engaged to my sister. I could even accept that the townhouse he promised me in the divorce settlement was given to Claire at the last minute. None of it had ever been freely given, so I had no right to ask for more. And besides... in four more days I was leaving New York.

The day before my period, I found a note on my fiancé's phone. [Her period starts tomorrow. I already packed pads and painkillers in her bag.] I smiled. It was such a small thing, but it felt thoughtful. The next day, a dull ache twisted in my lower stomach. Pale and uncomfortable, I dug through my crossbody bag. Nothing. Dark red blood stained my pants. Students pointed behind me and whispered with awkward laughs. I figured he'd just forgotten at the last minute. Then the new intern teacher posted on social media. [Just started working, and my supervising teacher is literally the sweetest! He even got me pads and painkillers. This period has been pain-free!] The photo showed a pack of pads, an ibuprofen tablet, and a mug of ginger tea. The painkillers were mine—the ones I'd kept stocked at home for years because of my cramps. The pads were the only brand my skin could tolerate. I turned off my phone and stared at the engagement ring on my finger for a long time. Then I stood up and headed to the principal's office to apply for the overseas teacher exchange program. Seven years. He still couldn't remember my cycle. And now, he never would have to.

During an avalanche, I risk my life to save my girlfriend, Naomi Sutton. I end up losing a leg and an eye. On the day I'm discharged from the hospital, she tells me, "I've done my part by taking care of you this whole time. There's no way I'll spend the rest of my life with a cripple. You understand why I need to do this, right, Caleb?" I've already resigned myself to a life of constant darkness when Zoey Rivers shows up. She doesn't mind that I'm disabled. She gently heals all of my wounds. Following our decision to get married, I start going through our belongings to prepare for our upcoming move to our new marital home. Unexpectedly, I stumble across Zoey's backup phone in the house. I find a secondary social media account that Zoey has been using to track the moving journey of her sister's battle against a crippling illness. The latest update reads, "I'm about to get married. Once it's official, I'll get him to donate a kidney to my sister at once, and she'll be saved." Posted with the caption is a photo of Zoey with a woman lying on a hospital bed—Naomi. At that very moment, the door opens behind me. "What's the matter, Caleb? Since you're at home, why didn't you answer me when I called for you?"

After I quit my job to become a full-time househusband, my wife, Brooke Lowell, left me with nothing but a bank card capped at 1,000 dollars a month. She said children had to be raised with hardship to grow up strong, and was always worried I might secretly give our daughter special treatment. But 1,000 dollars was nowhere near enough to cover a household's monthly expenses. Every time the kindergarten asked for nutrition fees, I could only swallow my pride and beg for leniency. "She's just a child. Why does she need that much money? You've got some nerve, living so comfortably on 1,000 a month." I had thought Brooke's harshness was meant to temper our daughter's character. That illusion lasted until I asked Brooke for 300 dollars to buy clothes for our daughter's Children's Day performance. What I received instead was humiliation and ridicule from everyone. Brooke accused me of acting like a spoiled rich kid, wasting money on unnecessary clothes. My mother-in-law complained that I dressed too poorly, like a beggar bringing shame to the family. Even my daughter blamed me for embarrassing her, saying I had ruined her Children's Day and damaged her props. I bowed my head, apologized, and paid compensation. Only then did I discover that my bank card had been frozen. The very next moment, Brooke's crush posted on social media about his son receiving a luxury mansion. 'Already a house-owner at three! Who'd believe she's not his birth mother?' Only then did I understand. People who truly loved someone would never be stingy when spending on them.

When a car struck me and sent me flying, blood sprayed everywhere. It resulted in ruptured organs, so I begged my wife, Lucy Hathaway, to take me to the hospital. But she told me to endure it because her younger uncle, Alan Cooper, had surgery that day. To stop me from applying to a foreign institution, Lucy went so far as to lock me in a cold storage room kept at negative twenty degrees Celsius. “The chance to travel abroad has to go to Alan. He has nothing, while you already have all of my love. You should give him your future! “The chill in the storage room will help with your wounds. After Alan finishes his surgery and submits his application, you can go to the hospital.” The pain from my wounds drove me to the brink of death. I even gave up my dignity and begged Lucy to take me to the hospital. Instead, she kicked me to the ground. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to pull. Aren’t you pretending to be seriously injured so that you can go to the hospital and stop Alan’s surgery? That way, he’ll lose his eligibility to apply for the institution. “How could you be so despicable?! You’re willing to hurt yourself just to put on an act and compete with Alan. You made your bed, so lie in it!” I tried to explain to her weakly, “I’m not pretending. The car accident came out of nowhere. I never wanted to go abroad in the first place. I just want to live a good life with you. I swear. Please save me.” Lucy pulled her pant leg out of my desperate grip and snorted. “You’re so full of schemes. Who knows if you’re trying to manipulate me again? I’ll come back for you after Alan finishes his surgery and submits his application.” After Lucy had had enough of staring into and admiring Alan’s eyes as he regained his sight, she accompanied him to submit his application. She finally remembered me again after all that and ordered her secretary to take me to the hospital. However, her secretary said through gritted teeth, “Mr. Fisherman has passed away from the car accident…”

When my father was struck by a car, Vanessa Reed was the first person to reach the scene. He dragged himself along with his broken prosthetic leg and begged her in a low voice. "Please don't tell Lucas. I'm fine..." Vanessa barely acknowledged him before helping the driver who had hit him into her car. She drove half a mile before apparently remembering the father-in-law she had left on the roadside and turning back. "There isn't room in the car. I'll take Mr. Foster to the hospital first, then come back for you." Mr. Foster was the father of Dylan, her childhood sweetheart. My father's smile froze. "I know you're busy. I won't cause trouble." But he waited from sunrise until dark, and Vanessa never returned. When I finally learned what had happened, I found Dad crying beside a roadside repair stand, clutching his shattered prosthetic. "I can't burden my son... Could you please fix this for me?" He was covered in injuries, and the path he had crawled to the stand was streaked with blood. When Dad saw me, he forced a smile. "Don't blame Vanessa." "It's only a prosthetic. I don't hurt. Don't fight with her over me. It's not worth it." My chest clenched. Just then, Vanessa called. Under my father's hopeful gaze, I answered. Before I could confront her, Vanessa spoke in a low voice. "Mr. Foster was in an accident. Dylan has work, so come help care for him." Listening to her speak as though my obedience were guaranteed, I realized there was no reason to keep pretending this marriage had a future.

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.”

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband's childhood friend, Sophia York, is busy policing what I eat. "This one's too spicy. You can't have it." "This one won't do. It's far too greasy." "This one is deep-fried, too. You can't eat it." She smacks my fork away before taking my glass of orange juice away from me too. Once she's done, all that's left in front of me is a bowl of plain pasta. There are 12 dishes on the table, but plain pasta is the only thing I'm allowed to eat. Looking at me sympathetically, my husband, Ivan Jefferson, picks up a piece of beef that's been rinsed with water and places it on my plate. "Listen to Sophia, okay? She's a nutritionist. Once you recover from gastritis, you'll be able to eat whatever you want." I've been eating like this for three whole years, and my gastritis still hasn't gotten any better. Later, I become pregnant. As I struggle with morning sickness, I suddenly crave blueberries. Ivan rushes out to buy some, only to return with Sophia in tow. She slips into one of our indoor slippers as if she belongs here and immediately starts to clear out my refrigerator. "You've always had a sensitive stomach, Lily. Now that you're pregnant, it's even more important for you to watch what you eat," she says. "Let me take care of you for the next couple of months." Ivan feeds me a blueberry and gently coaxes, "I feel uneasy about leaving you home alone while you're pregnant, Lily. Sophia's a professional." Sophia pulls out her credentials and shows them to me. I stare at the name of the shady association and suddenly burst out laughing. Is this what he calls a professional? All that's left in my refrigerator are vegetables and some beef. As I stare at the nearly empty refrigerator, I suddenly feel tired of living this way. Once my morning sickness eases, I'll move somewhere else and start a new life.

Fresh out of the National Research Institute, I loaded up on my wife's favorite snacks and ordered a vibrant bouquet of roses, eager to surprise her. I stashed the treats in her office, then stepped out to grab the flowers. But in those fleeting minutes, a stranger had ripped open every package and devoured everything. I glared at him. "Who gave you permission to touch those?" He shot me a look of pure disdain. "Buzz off, flower boy. Drop your crap and scram!" The secretary at the door snickered. "You heard the man. He's Ms. Bowman's husband. Better run before he leaves a bad review." I pulled out my phone and called my wife. "Who is this guy in your office?"

My wife's nephew, Oliver, got kidnapped. The ransom was $500,000. Then my wife froze every card I had. I called her 999 times. Not one call went through. Oliver was tortured for three days. By the time they found him, he was covered in wounds. Dead. I pulled every favor I had and finally found Zara. In a hotel bed. With her so-called brother. "I'm wrecked about Poppy too, but she's gone. We can't bring her back. Holden needs heart surgery, and Poppy's a match. Send the body to the hospital." So Zara thought the kidnapped kid was our daughter. I was so pissed I laughed. Then I sent the body straight to the OR.

To the public, Maggie Sinise and I are a golden married couple who have lived peacefully with each other for over four decades. But when Maggie is on her deathbed, she grips my hand tightly while pleading to me, "Aaron, if there ever is a next life, please… please let me and Scotty be together…" I feel as though I've gotten struck by lightning. The shock lasts for a long time. But since this is Maggie's death wish, I nod in agreement. "Okay." Upon hearing the answer she's been yearning for, Maggie closes her eyes in satisfaction. What I don't expect is that both of us have actually returned to the timeframe that's set 40 years ago. Just as I'm trying to wrap my mind around the question as to why Maggie has gotten reborn as well, I hear her stating firmly, "I will never marry Aaron! In this lifetime, Scotty is the only man I will ever marry!" I'm not mad at all. I'm just curious about one thing, though. How will Maggie ever rebuild Sinise Group and make it great again without my help this time?

I had always been the one who kept my husband, Julian Whitmore, in line. After the car accident, I finally stopped. Julian threw a party with his friends to celebrate. "Elena's finally off my back. Now I can mess around like the rest of you." He even brought Chloe Marsh, his pregnant secretary, back to our home. Chloe was gorgeous and she knew it. But around Julian, she turned sweet and helpless. She'd stroke her flat stomach and talk to me like we were best friends. Julian pulled her close and dropped another bombshell. "Once Chloe gives birth, you'll adopt the baby. He'll be your son." "You can't have children anyway. I'm willing to let her baby call you Mom. That's more than fair to you." He didn't know I had found out I was pregnant after the accident. He also had no idea that while I was unconscious, I'd seen exactly how my life with him would end. In the dream, I lost my baby. I got my parents and my best friend killed. And in the end, I couldn't even find a place to bury my child. When I woke up, I made one choice. Leave Julian and take my child home.

My wife is pregnant, and I'm a little worried. Before bed, I scroll through a parenting forum and come across an anonymous post. "My husband won't let me have my male best friend's baby. Is this a serious violation of my reproductive rights?" The poster pours her heart out, each line of the post dripping with self-pity. "My doctor said my progesterone levels are low, my her HCG levels aren't doubling as expected, and the gestational sac is implanted close to the scar tissue from my last surgery. If the pregnancy continues, it could cause massive bleeding and put my life at risk. "That's why my husband refuses to let me continue the pregnancy. But he doesn't understand. This baby is the only reminder my best friend left me. How can I force my husband to willingly raise another man's child?" The comments section is buzzing. Then, one highly upvoted reply makes my blood run cold. "Girl, you can't fight a man like that head-on. You have to destroy his confidence at the root. You should slip something into his drinks that reduces sperm activity. Then, trick him into getting a fertility test. When he sees a diagnosis saying he has a low sperm count, he'll be devastated. "After that, when you tell him that you're determined to give him a child no matter what, he'll be so grateful that he'll worship both you and that baby for the rest of his life!" Staring at the vicious scheme on the screen, I break out in a cold sweat. Just then, my wife walks into the bedroom carrying a warm glass of milk. "Honey, you've been so stressed taking care of me lately. You're even starting to get gray hairs. Here, have a glass of milk."

Before my wife went into labor, a nurse handed me a stack of consent forms. Buried among them was an optional prenatal paternity screening offered through St. Briar Medical Center's new genetic-services program. I'd barely started signing when my mother-in-law, Margaret, charged at me and slapped me across the face. "You monster! My daughter is risking her life to give you a child, and you want a DNA test?" Before I could explain, the hospital-room door flew open. Vanessa pressed a pair of medical scissors against her neck, her eyes bloodshot. "Daniel, I've given you seven years of my life. You know who this baby's father is. Why would you humiliate me like this?" When I saw the thin line of blood on her throat, my heart broke, and I dropped to my knees. I tore up the testing form and ordered my attorney to draft an unconditional agreement transferring assets to the baby. To comfort her, I drove across Aldercrest searching for her favorite honey-lavender shortbread. But when I returned to the hospital room, I heard laughter inside. "Vanessa, thank God we reacted quickly. If he'd signed that testing form, everything would've been over." "Why worry? Daniel's an idiot. I only have to cry, and he believes me." Then a familiar male voice said, "Once the birth certificate gives the child the Raleigh name, everything Daniel owns will belong to the three of us." The words froze me outside the door. I turned away and called my attorney. "Cancel the agreement. Then hire an investigator and uncover everything." At the baby's welcome reception, I would personally present Vanessa with the gift she deserved.