Feel-Good Story Romance Short Stories & Hypocrisy Cheating Novels

The day my son is born, my husband holds him tightly, looking overjoyed. However, while I'm asleep, he secretly swaps my son with the child next door—his first love's baby. I act like I know nothing and arrange for someone to switch the babies back. My husband wants me to raise someone else's child as my own but has no idea he's not even the father of my son. Ten years later, I transfer all my assets to my son's name as a birthday gift. That's when my husband's first love, Amanda Larkin, crashes the birthday party. She looks at me smugly and says, "The son you've treasured for the past decade is actually mine!"

My best friend, Ricky Watson, yanked the oxygen tube from my nose as he grinned down at me maliciously. "I guess there's no point pretending anymore. Remember those leaked files that cost you the promotion? I'm the one who planted them in that storage box under your bed." Then, he slipped an arm around my wife, Andrea Gates, looking even more pleased with himself. "And that son you've spent the last 10 years raising?" His grin widened. "He's mine." Andrea slowly turned the gold bracelet around her wrist and looked at me with open contempt. "I would've taken the kid and left you for Ricky years ago if you hadn't been so subservient to my needs and given me all your paycheck every month." Her gaze swept over me. "A loser like you isn't even fit to shine his shoes." I stared at the two of them as rage burned through me. Alas, I couldn't even force out a curse due to the lack of oxygen. Years earlier, I had been in line for a promotion to Chief Engineer. However, that was also when someone accused me of leaking confidential company documents. That single accusation destroyed my life. It went on my record, cost me my promotion, and ended my engineering career almost overnight. Still, I did whatever it took to support my wife and the son I believed was mine for the next 10 years. During the day, I would haul rebar and equipment across construction sites. When night fell, I would stay up taking freelance drafting and design jobs just to earn a little more to support my little family. I worked myself to the bone. I wasn't even 40 when my heart finally gave out. Meanwhile, Ricky stepped straight into the position that should have been mine. He used the project proposal I had created to climb up the corporate ladder year after year until he became one of the most respected engineering directors in the industry. I thought that was how my life would end, miserable and wrathful. However, that was when I opened my eyes again. I was back on the night before my Chief Engineer promotion interview.

My sister accompanies me when I go for my premarital medical checkup. When I'm preparing a urine test, I hear embarrassing sounds coming from the cubicle next door. I'm about to leave when I hear the conversation. "Keep it in you, Willow. We're doing this again if it slips out." The voice belongs to my fiancé, Zachary Hilton. The woman to whom he's speaking is Willow Langley, my sister. I dial his number hysterically to see whether it really is him, but my calls go unanswered. All I hear is the incessant ringing of a phone next door and moans alongside it. I'm rooted to the spot, too stunned to do anything. Zachary once vowed to love me for life, yet he's doing something like this with Willow prior to our wedding. The moans and pants next door take a long time to subside. Once I hear them leave, I call home, my face wet with tears. "Mom, change my husband-to-be to Thomas Hilton, Zachary's youngest uncle. I don't want to have anything to do with Zachary anymore."

After six years with Joel, Lyra landed in the hospital—sick and drained. The day she got discharged, she caught something in the hallway she wasn't supposed to hear. "Joel Fenwick, are you out of your mind? You gave Lyra's bone marrow to Renee without telling her? You knew her health was trash and lied about it being a stomach issue just to make her do it?" Renee. Joel's childhood flame. The girl he never got over. Lyra didn't cry. Didn't freak out. She just picked up the phone, called her parents overseas, and said yes to an arranged marriage with the Windsors.

My boyfriend has depression. To help cure him, I pass on the opportunity for a recital abroad. Instead, I accept commercial gigs so I can rake in the cash. After one performance, I see my boyfriend holding hands with a woman who looks like me in a private room. He wears a sharp suit and smiles so brightly that he doesn't even look ill. The people around him cheer and tease him. "You really are different with your true love back in the country. When are you two going to make things official?" "I heard you'd been dating another woman for seven years, though. Do you love her?" Charles Foster smiles indifferently. "I was just having some fun with her. Only an idiot like her would take me seriously." I sob with devastation while hiding behind a door. Suddenly, I feel like a fool for spending seven years with him. I call my mentor, who suggested that I take part in the international piano competition. "I will take part in the competition."

"Martin, you're getting married within two weeks. What are you going to do about the woman outside?" Stacy Lynd paused at those words, even as a man answered indifferently, "Just keep your mouth shut. She won't know if none of you breathe a word." Behind the door, Stacy's tears blurred her vision. Never did she expect that the man she loved for years was going to treat her like a side chick. At that point, she truly understood, and went on to burn her accounts. It was not until afterward that Stacy realized she wasn't the one who couldn't get over that doomed relationship.

"We partied too hard last night and forgot to use protection—don't forget to buy morning-after pills for your wife." Looking at the woman's smooth bare back and the red mole on her neck in the photo, I felt absolutely nothing. Again. Five years of marriage, and this wasn't the first time. Kathy liked to test me this way. She called it her "little experiment." The first time, she "accidentally" left a receipt for condoms on the nightstand. I got angry and confronted her, but she just smiled with contempt. "Why are you so petty? My girlfriends and I bought that on purpose just to see how you'd react." The second time was on our wedding anniversary. A guy showed up at our door with a bouquet of roses, ready to propose to her right then and there. I got into a fistfight with him, fell down a flight of stairs, and broke three ribs. That's when she finally strolled out and told me the guy was an actor, and the whole thing was supposed to be a surprise for me. Five years. Her games kept getting more extreme. From flirty texts to explicit photos, she kept pushing my limits. And I'd gone from furious to completely numb. Since she loved testing me so much, fine—I'd give her exactly what she wanted.

At an investor banquet, my fiancé Tanner Clarkson’s secretary, Willow Thorne, recklessly throws a glass of wine at an investor and hurls insults without thinking. In retaliation, the investor demands that Willow make it up to him with her body, or he'll pull his funding. To ensure the company's successful IPO, Tanner hands me a glass of spiked wine. Then, he pushes me to the investor, expecting me to extinguish his flames of rage. His eyes are filled with feigned hesitation as he says, "Willow isn't like you. She just graduated—she's pure and innocent. Stop fighting it, Kathy. I'll make it up to you once the company goes public." When I regain consciousness, I stare at the man across from me, my voice hoarse. "About that deal you mentioned... I'll sign it."

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

My fiancé proposes to my stepsister Thalia Yates in front of everyone at our engagement party. Furious, I pack my stuff and leave home. That's when Jude Pearson, heir to an international medical group, entered my life. He's a surgeon rumored to have zero interest in women. Yet he pursued me passionately for six months. Eventually, I accepted his proposal. For seven years after our wedding, he's been gentle and considerate, always putting my needs first. Then, I overhear his phone conversation with his mother, Helena Roberts. "Jude, it's been seven years, but you still have no kids. It's time for a divorce." "Since I couldn't marry Thalia, it doesn't matter who I married instead. I'll keep playing this role forever. As long as I'm around, she'll never be able to intrude upon Thalia's happiness." That's when the truth hits me—Jude has given up the family business to become a surgeon just to treat Thalia's heart condition. Our years of marriage are actually his way of protecting Thalia from afar. If that's the case, then I'll disappear from their world and let my absence be their happy ending.

I spend ten years helping my fiancé fight and claw his way to the top. Finally, he becomes the head of the local mafia. But once he has everything, he falls for another woman. Suddenly, he wants nothing to do with the promise he made to marry me. Just as he boasts about throwing her the wedding of the century, one of his men can't hold back his confusion. "Olivia stood by you through everything. Weren't you crazy about her? And now you're marrying someone else?" Joshua Harding snuffs out his cigarette, slowly turning the silver couple's ring he shares with Abigail Mauser between his fingers. "Olivia?" He scoffs. "She's got blood on her hands. How could she ever compare to my sweet, innocent Abigail?" The subordinate hesitates. "But Olivia's sharp. If she finds out and turns against you, then what?" Joshua frowns before smirking coldly. "Belcove is completely under my control. It's not like I'll lose it without her around." Little does he know I'm standing outside and listening to every word. I drop the medicine I brought him into the trash and pull out my phone. I text his biggest rival, Michael Sheridan. "Want Joshua's turf and his life? I'm handing them to you!"

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his buddies talking through the open window. "Dude, you’re so cool blooded. Inventing a twin brother just to dodge diaper duty? What's next—triplets and quadruplets coming out of the woodwork too?"

"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly. Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly. Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now. They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world? After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

After my third dive in search of my missing boyfriend, I suffer a miscarriage. When I wake up in the hospital and find out he's still alive, I rip out the IV and drag myself home. But as I approach the house, I overhear Beck Wilder talking to his friends. "Maren had a child with her ex-husband. Who knows if she's really over him? "I can't go through with the wedding without being sure. I'd rather set a trap to see if she'd risk everything for me." Someone hesitates. "What if she finds out you lied? She might get furious and leave you." Beck chuckles confidently. "She's a breeze to manipulate. I'll make her sign the marriage papers and host a lavish wedding. She'll be as meek as a kitten." Two weeks later, I leave the miscarriage report on the wedding dress and walk away. The once-proud heir of the Wilder family is left in tears, scouring every inch of Larkspur in desperate search of his runaway bride.

At my wedding, the giant screen that's supposed to show our photos suddenly switches to the groom's assistant's prenatal exam report. It clearly shows that he is the child's father. The assistant looks flustered and panicked as she rushes to apologize to me. The groom, on the other hand, stays perfectly calm and offers an explanation like it's no big deal. "I took pity on her because she got pregnant out of wedlock, so I went with her to the appointment and left my name. I'm going to be her kid's godfather, too." The day of her exam was also the day I went for my very first prenatal checkup. Everyone thinks I'll break down, but I simply reach up and tear off my veil. Then, I calmly schedule an abortion. "She really is pitiful, being pregnant without a partner by her side. She deserves this wedding more than I do." Then, I raise my champagne glass to congratulate him. "Congratulations to you both. May your shotgun wedding be a happy one, especially since it's happening with a bun in the oven."

I'm five months pregnant. One day, I leave the house to do some grocery shopping. As I wait at a red light, I see a woman kiss my husband. I follow them in shock, snapping to my senses when I hear the screeching of a car's brakes. I get into an accident and end up comatose, losing my child in the process. Not only does my husband not care for me, but he even has his lover move in with him proudly. The moment I wake up, they panic.

My boyfriend, Allen, is a fitness coach who is cheerful, handsome, and has eight-pack abs. After getting together with me, he transferred all his female students to other colleagues and would send me daily check-in photos. In anticipation of becoming his fiancee, I happily prepared for our engagement ceremony. However, two weeks before the ceremony, I discovered a bright red lipstick mark on Allen’s workout pants. I quickly pulled up the check-in photo he had sent me that day. Through the reflection on a dumbbell, I saw a woman standing next to Allen—her lips painted in the exact same lipstick color. Most of the previous photos had flaws, but I had trusted Allen too much to notice them. Looking at his message under the photo, I let out a cold laugh. "Baby, I have to work overtime today to train a male student." He actually dared to deceive me. Just then, my phone rang. It was the wedding planning company confirming the engagement ceremony setup. I quickly responded with a confirmation. The ceremony would proceed as planned—except I had a special surprise prepared for Allen, one he would never forget.

I never thought I'd end up severely injured and lose my baby on my wedding day. That day, I walked toward my husband full of excitement, only to watch him rush right past me and straight into the arms of his secretary. Confused, I turned around and saw someone in a wedding dress lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. It was his secretary, Quinn Fable. Steve York, my soon-to-be husband, panicked and scooped her up, but Quinn stared at me with tearful eyes, crying, “Summer, I ate the candy you gave me… Why would you want to hurt my baby? Please, Steve, save our child… please…” Steve was beside himself with rage. Without a second thought, he kicked me hard in the stomach. I collapsed into the champagne tower, shards of glass embedding into my skin. Blood poured from between my legs. Yet, they still clung to each other, crying bitterly as if I didn't exist. When the ambulance arrived, they didn't even hesitate to push me aside to save her first. “Forget about her!” Steve shouted. “Save Quinn! She's lost so much blood. She must be in terrible pain! As for Summer, that vicious witch… she deserves to die!” Due to the delay, I suffered a ruptured uterus and missed the window for proper treatment. And as if that wasn't enough, Steve personally announced that our marriage was null and void. He marched straight to the clerk's office with Quinn and made it official. On my ICU bed, I received a text from him. “Pack your things and get out. Quinn wants you out of her sight.”

A few days before my postpartum period ended, I found two plane tickets to Mirelia tucked inside Daryl’s wallet. I was secretly delighted. I thought he had planned a surprise for me. But on the very day I was supposed to recover, he told me that his company had suddenly sent him on a business trip. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep—only to see his first love post on social media. [Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.] The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing. I didn’t confront him right away. Instead, I turned to look at my sleeping daughter beside me, then picked up my phone. [Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll take over the family business.]

My father died of a serious illness. One day before his funeral, my fiancée returned home to get married to her crush. When I confronted her about her actions, she got annoyed with me. "His father has cancer. His last wish is to see me marry him.” "I just want to do a good deed. Can you stop being so selfish?" When I called her that night, it was her crush who picked up the call. "Helen's showering right now. I'll pass your message to her." I said nothing. All I did was hang up calmly. Later that night, my fiancée finally called me. She sounded exhausted. "I'll be having my wedding reception soon. Don't bother me with your dad's funeral." This time, I continued staying silent. However, I got rid of my engagement ring and canceled all of our engagement plans.