Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Hypocrisy Cheating Novels

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

I've been married to Ryland Webster for eight years. In that time, we got divorced nine times. I met every woman he dated after our wedding. Whenever he grew tired of someone and wanted out, I became his favorite excuse. "If you marry him, you'll end up like me," I told them. "Cleaning up his messes, signing divorce papers over and over, and walking away with nothing." On New Year's Eve, I sat beside another woman he'd abandoned, handing her tissues as she cried. Across the city, Ryland was setting off a fireworks display for his newest girlfriend. As I watched her sob through an entire box of tissues, I saw a younger version of myself. For the first time, I asked Ryland for a divorce. He looked genuinely confused. "We'll be remarried in three days," he said. "Do we really need to go through this again?" I smiled and shook my head. No. Not this time. Ryland, I'm done waiting for you.

Everyone in the city knows Nathan Cooper only agreed to marry me because he had no choice. No matter how many times I tried to seduce him over the past seven years, he would just run his fingers over his rosary beads. Never once had he shown a trace of desire in his eyes. It isn't until that night, when I see him answer a long-distance call from his first love. Upon hearing her voice, Nathan loses control. It's as if heat was surging through his body like a live wire. The next day, Lily Hunt flies back. Nathan shoves me out of the car and drives off to pick her up. As I fall from the bridge and lose my memory, news of Nathan's proposal to his beloved sets the whole city ablaze. The next day, he shows up late to the hospital. As Nathan stands by my bedside, he says he will marry me, but only if he can hold a wedding ceremony with Lily. Then, he announces the wedding date. I lean against his bitter enemy, Luke Patton, and look at Nathan in confusion. "Sorry, who are you?"

It was the eighth year of my marriage. As I was driving my daughter to school, I took a call on speaker. "Is this Mr. Andrew Benedict? Your wife, Ms. Clara Miller, left her diamond ring in our executive suite." My hands froze on the wheel. Andrew was my husband. Clara was my best friend. I rushed to my brother's office, desperate to prove it was a mistake. He didn't even look up from his desk. He wasn't surprised at all. "Summer, drop it," my brother, Aaron Walter, said calmly. "They have a child together now. Just pretend you don't know. "He lied to you to spare your feelings," he added. "We all kept quiet for your own good." I felt my blood cold as it ran through my veins. "He's right, Summer," a soft voice chimed in from the couch. "Don't blame Clara. You're both mothers. You need to understand her side." It was Olivia Walter, my sister-in-law. The three of us used to call ourselves inseparable. Now she was asking me to pity the mistress and the bastard. In family, friendship, and love, I was the only outsider.

On the day I finally paid off the mortgage on our marital home, my boyfriend, Jesse Culver, keeps ignored my calls even though we were supposed to go register our marriage today. Instead, I received a message from my ex-husband, Dave Grossman. "What does it feel like to be betrayed for the second time?" I was stunned when a video pops up. Inside a private room, Jesse was taking wedding photos with another woman, happily leaning against her. My dad, Chris Lillard, who had wished me a smooth marriage registration that very morning, was smiling adoringly at them. My friends and classmates were cheering them on, too. "Kiss! Kiss!" The bride-to-be in the video was my former best friend, Nicki Jones. When I was eight months pregnant, she slept with Dave. After I miscarried, I divorced him immediately and cut all contact with her. Dave kept messaging me. "Looks like your best friend really is irresistible." "Jesse called me a bastard back then and wanted to beat me to death. But now, he's deceived you for her too." Being betrayed for the second time hurts so badly that I can barely breathe. Five years ago, it pushed me into depression. Jesse was the one who pulled me out of it. However, five years later, he joined forces with my family and friends to betrayed me for the same woman. The next second, Dave sent me an address. He texts, "Want to go take a look? It's up to you."

My boyfriend was a therapist. On the day I got diagnosed with ALS, he was busy celebrating his friend's birthday. He said, "Sophie's got depression. Without me, she could break down, hurt herself, or do worse things." To look after her, he broke up with me and moved into her place. I blocked him on everything, agreeing we'd go our separate ways. Strangely, he lost his nuts when he found out I was dying.

I was out delivering food in the blistering heat when I scrolled past a viral couple's vlog on Snapreel. The woman in the video steered with one hand, and the line of her profile looked exactly like my girlfriend, Jenna Wilder. I took a screenshot and sent it to her. [Look, this woman could be your twin.] Jenna replied almost right away, sounding fond and a little exasperated. [Babe, don't be silly. I'm hauling boxes at the warehouse right now and I'm covered in dust.] She followed it with a photo of herself in the warehouse and told me to stay cool out there. I looked at the photo, shook my head, and smiled. Jenna would not even buy an ice cream without splitting it with me. There was no way she was the trust fund girl in that video who threw money around like it was nothing. A moment later, the vlogger posted an update. In the new video, Jenna wore a couture gown in a room filled with red roses, wrapped in the arms of a young man with a dazzling smile. The caption read, [Happy sixth anniversary to the man who's always by my side.] Jenna and I had only been together for three years.

After I handed my husband my pregnancy report, he froze. That night, I heard him get up and head to his study. I quietly followed him. He was on a video call with his adopted sister, Penelope. "Is she really pregnant, Harrison? What are we going to do? Are you going to leave me?" "You silly girl. How could I ever leave you? I only married her to appease my dad and secure my inheritance of Westbrook Group. Once I have full control of the company, I'll divorce her at once." I quietly pulled out my phone and started recording. I finally had the proof I needed. It was a marriage of convenience. I was exhausted by it.

Seconds before the crash, my best friend, Nora Sinclair, threw herself over me to protect me. When she woke up, she'd lost her memory and mistook my fiancé, Julian Pierce, for her boyfriend. There were five of us in our friend group, and for the sake of her recovery, we decided it would be best to play along with the mistake. The first month, the trip Julian and I had planned before our wedding became hers instead. Nora held his hand and kissed him while everyone cheered them on, leaving me trailing behind with all four of their bags. The second month, Nora moved into the home Julian and I had bought for after the wedding. My name was taken off the deed and replaced with hers. My sister, Yvette Lane, tried to reassure me. "Nora lost her memory saving your life. We're only playing along with this to help her recover." I believed her. I forced myself to smile and played my part through one ridiculous charade after another. Then came the ninth month. I had just finished having my bridal makeup done and hurried to the wedding venue, only to find Nora already wearing my wedding dress, smiling as she stood beside Julian and greeted the guests with her arm linked through his. Yvette patted me on the shoulder. "Nora accidentally found your wedding dress last night. We couldn't bring ourselves to tell her the truth, so just let her have the wedding this time." One of Julian's friends, Yale Lawson, grinned and chimed in, "Exactly. You've already given in eight times. What's one more?" A bitter ache spread through my chest, and suddenly the wedding ring on my finger felt painfully tight. Then I looked up and saw Nora wearing my spare wedding band. It fit her perfectly. Only then did I notice that the wedding dress had always been one size too small on me, yet it fit her perfectly too. Every guest there knew exactly what was going on, but they still laughed and cheered, calling her Mrs. Pierce. That was when I finally understood. From the very beginning, I was the only one who hadn't wanted this "mistake" to become real. With a bitter smile, I slipped off the ring that had been cutting into my finger. Fine. If this was what they wanted, they could have their ninth farce. I was done after this.

Yves Riverson had a new razor. It was royal blue, wrapped in red silk, and he placed it at the very bottom of his suitcase as though it were some priceless treasure. During the flight, the plane suddenly hit turbulence. The alarm screeched through the cabin, and in that moment, the thing he clutched was not my hand. It was the razor someone else had given him. Only after the plane landed did he seem to remember I was there. He gently caressed my hand and told me not to be afraid. I said nothing, nor did I push him away. After we left the airport, I watched him eagerly pick up his phone. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Then he turned and saw me. The smile on his face froze. "Just talking to my parents." I nodded and ended the call with his parents. The car was moving slowly, and he was happily chatting with that person. I was scrolling the screen. The jewelry purchases made through our linked-payment account. That person made sure to note that the razor must be royal blue. "To Ms. Samantha Shaw." Samantha's laughter drifted faintly from the phone. I looked at my tired reflection in the car window and suddenly blurted out, "When did you start having an affair with my best friend?"

I spent three years on a medical aid mission in Afrikad. During that time, my husband and I could only video call twice a year. In our third year, I missed him so much that I secretly flew home, hoping to surprise him. The moment I opened the front door, I froze. A wedding portrait I had never seen before hung in the living room. In the photo were my husband and another woman. Then, I heard a burst of chatter. As I looked closer, I realized the plants in the house had started talking again. The pothos stretched its vines toward the living room. “She’s back! She’s back! That woman is wearing the doctor’s pajamas again!” The spider plant snickered, “She claimed they were a gift from her best friend last week. That old hag comes up with a new story every few days.” The cactus grumbled, “Quit arguing. She’s bringing that other man over for dinner today. How do you think she’ll explain this to her husband this time?” The pothos replied, “She’ll probably call him her cousin. That’s what she said last time.” Just then, a woman walked out carrying a child. She was startled for a moment when she saw me. “Who are you?” I gave her a faint smile. “I'm Justin's mother.”

During Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law hinted for the umpteenth time that she wanted a grandchild. However, my husband, Zachary Cole, who had insisted on staying child-free in the past decade, only smiled and filled her plate. After dinner, he slipped onto the balcony. "There, there. Daddy will come see you on New Year's Day," he whispered. I stood in the corner of the living room with a glass of water in my hand, feeling cold as the words sank in. I stepped forward and forced a playful tone. "I just heard you say 'Daddy.' Got a secret kid stashed somewhere?" He rubbed his nose, his voice stiff. "You must've misheard. That's… just a friend's kid." My heart sank. I'd been married to him for a decade, so I knew exactly what he looked like when he was lying.

In our third year of trying for a baby, Gideon Tarrant insisted that I go to the snowy peaks of the Kestrel Range to pray for a child. "The old folks say that if a wife climbs Hallow Peak and kneels to pray every three steps, heaven will send her a baby." Because of that, I faced the blizzard in the bitter subzero cold and knelt my way up from the foot of the mountain. When I was nearly at the summit, the smartwatch on my wrist suddenly buzzed. The health app showed that Gideon's heart rate was spiking. Right after that, a video synced automatically to our family cloud album. In a delivery room, Gideon was cutting the umbilical cord with red-rimmed eyes. The woman in the bed was my best friend, Amanda Crowley. Six months earlier, she had come to me in tears and told me she was pregnant and unmarried. My heart went out to her, so I sent her 80,000 dollars. She did not accept it. She only sent back one line: [Hazel, thank you for giving me the best of everything.] I thought she meant all the ways I had looked after her over the years. At this moment, as I watched the video, I saw that the people gathered around her bed were my own family. My father was holding the baby, tears of joy running down his weathered face. My mother sat at the bedside, her eyes full of tenderness. "Just focus on getting your strength back. We'll make sure Hazel doesn't find out." My brother went even further and pressed a thick envelope of cash into Gideon's hand. "Gideon, once Hazel's prayed that blessing down for Mandy, we'll have her clear out and make room for our big boy!" My husband, Gideon, held Amanda's hand tightly and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "This time, I'm never going to let you or the baby get hurt again." I lifted my head stiffly and looked up at the prayer ribbon tied to the branch above me. Gideon had written the wish on it himself. It read: [May my beloved be kept safe.] It turned out I was never a part of the beloved he had been praying for.

Henry Upton and I have been secretly dating for five years now. One day, I pay a visit to our mentor, Professor Elaine Harding, bringing a gift basket with me. During our conversation, she suddenly mentions my good friend, Ruby McCain. "You know, during our time at the lab, Henry and Ruby showed the best chemistry. They were practically inseparable, always having their meals and going everywhere together. I've always wondered when they will finally make things official and get married." My smile stiffens, but Professor Harding doesn't notice a thing. She pats the back of my hand and says gladly, "Fortunately, the good news is finally about to come. Henry told me that he intends to propose to Ruby as soon as the awards ceremony is over tomorrow. He even asked me to be there and witness the moment. Considering your relationship with Ruby, I'm sure you'll be the maid of honor." For a moment, I forget to breathe. Just then, the doorbell rings. Henry stands on the doorstep with a gift basket in one hand. The other is tightly clasped with Ruby's hand, their fingers intertwined. The air seems to freeze. Henry's eyes meet mine, and his flash with panic. However, his instinctive reaction is to step to the side a little, shielding Ruby behind him. My fingers clench around my phone until my palm starts to ache. On the screen is the message Henry sent me this morning. "Darling, once the awards ceremony is over tomorrow, I'll make our relationship public. I'll make you the happiest bride in the world." But as it turns out, it's not his relationship with me that's about to go public tomorrow. The future he speaks of has never included me. I remain standing as I watch Professor Harding greet the couple with a smile. Seeing the two of them stand side by side sends a sharp wave of pain through my chest, radiating throughout my body. It is at this very moment that I finally realize the truth. At last, I understand why my relationship with Henry has been a secret all these years. The truth is, I was always meant to remain in the shadows for good.

My boyfriend was supposed to come to my parents' house that day to ask for their blessing before proposing. My parents had prepared a whole table of food for him. I sat at the table and came across my boyfriend Sebastian Graham's story. In the photo, his childhood friend and "little sister", Claire Crawford, was wearing a beautiful white wedding dress. She looked sweet and gentle. His caption read. "Giving the girl I promised to marry as a child the wedding she never got. The wedding may be fake, but our bond is real." As I looked at the food in front of me that had been reheated countless times, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. Just a few hours earlier, I had been secretly happy that after waiting seven years, we were finally going to take the next step in our relationship. My parents and I had already been waiting for him for three hours, but he hadn't even told me whether he was coming. He was throwing Claire a grand and romantic fake wedding, yet he couldn't even show up for one of the most important moments of our relationship. I looked at the wedding dress sketch I had carefully designed as a surprise for him and gave a bitter laugh. Just one week ago, we had agreed on all the plans and timing for today. For the past seven years, he had prepared all kinds of celebrations for Claire every year, but he had never put the same effort into planning anything for me. After waiting for a long time, my mother finally asked me sadly, "Margaret, are we still waiting for him?" I quietly replied, "No. We're not." From that day on, I decided I would never wait for him again.

On the day Julius Robles's arch-nemesis, Yvette Silva, is released from prison, I—five months pregnant—am dragged into an alley by a group of street thugs. By the time he finds me, I'm beaten black and blue. I've miscarried, and my uterus has been so severely damaged that it has to be surgically removed. Consumed by rage, Julius severs Yvette's tendons in her limbs, dragging her before me to kneel and beg for my forgiveness. From then on, the underworld kingpin of Marisport washes his hands of the life of crime and devotes himself to doing good. He gets a vasectomy of his own accord and adopts a boy and a girl from the orphanage. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Bee." Everything comes crashing down when a stranger shows up at my doorstep. "Bianca Montes, just because you can't conceive doesn't mean you have the right to steal my sister's children!" Before I have time to process his words, he forces me into a car and speeds straight to Kestrel. When we arrive, my adopted children, Elijah Robles and Emma Robles, are clinging to Yvette and calling her "Mom". Yvette giggles as she nestles into Julius' arms. "What do you think Bianca would do if she found out the children are ours? Maybe I should just tell her you think she's filthy. That's the reason you can't get enough of me in my bed." His eyes are bloodshot as he grips her chin. "Keep your mouth shut, and I'll stay with you for another two weeks." The very next second, he lowers his head and kisses Yvette, and what follows is a night of passion. My phone chimes softly. Julius has sent me a message on WhatsApp. "The company's major project has been delayed for another half a month. There's no one to look after the kids at Kestrel, so I had the nanny take them home first." I feel as though I've been plunged into an icy abyss, tears streaming down my face. All his attempts to make things right are nothing but a cruel joke all along. After wiping away my tears, I book a one-way flight out of the country.

When I'm eight months pregnant, my parents, who sold me off when I was a child, beg for my forgiveness and ask me to come home to await the birth of my baby. Suddenly, a gas explosion occurs. Without a moment's hesitation, Mom and Dad shove me aside and rush through the inferno. They are quick to carry my younger sister, Avril Holden, who suffers from leukemia, to safety. Only my husband, Zack Burton, charges into the flames like a madman to rescue me. He even brings in a top-tier medical team for my treatment after I'm rescued from the fire. In the end, I lose my baby, and a falling roof beam leaves me with a broken leg. As I hobble along to catch one last glimpse of my child, I see Zack outside the morgue, pulling Avril into an excited embrace. "Thank God, Avril! We can now harvest Ashley's bone marrow while she's unconscious, and you'll be cured! You'll be back to your old self in no time." I once believed Zack was my warm, reliable refuge, but it turns out it was nothing more than an illusion all along. The marriage I once took such pride in has become a bitter, freezing winter. If that's how it is, then I shall simply let go.

The night I got back from my work trip, the drugstore called—said my rewards card got declined that afternoon. I needed to reload it. Adrian was in the kitchen, laser-focused on dinner. I asked what he'd bought. He grinned, pulled out a box of supplements. "Been working late. Heart's been acting up, so I grabbed some support vitamins." I didn't say anything. He sighed, dug out a bank card. "I know you're all about money. Used your rewards card by accident. I'll pay you back ten times. Deal?" Normally, I'd take it. This time, I didn't. I just looked at him. "Let's get a divorce."

My fiancé is one of the country's top neurosurgeons. One day, he discovers that his childhood sweetheart has been diagnosed with cancer and only has a month to live. He wants to spend this time with her, so he feeds me a newly developed memory-wiping drug to make me forget him for a month. During that time, he throws his childhood sweetheart a wedding and goes on a honeymoon with her. As they stand amid an ocean of flowers, they vow to be together in another lifetime. One month later, he kneels before me in the rain. Tears stream down his face as he says hoarsely, "The drug's effects were only supposed to last for a month. Why have you permanently forgotten me?"

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!"