Maiikling Kwento tungkol sa Plot Twists at Romance, at mga Nobela ng Hypocrisy na may Cheating

At the engagement party for one of our former high school classmates, the bride suggested we play King's Cup. Whoever drew Eight had to do a cross-arm toast with someone of the opposite sex in front of everyone. My husband, Luke Flandern, had always been a germaphobe. The second he saw the card in his hand, his brow furrowed. I stood up, ready to help him out. But then—Sarah Weaver, the girl everyone called the beauty of our class, who was sitting right across from him—asked softly, "Need a hand?" Luke looked at her, and the frown on his face instantly melted. "Yeah, sure." The room erupted. Everyone was laughing and cheering. "Classic Luke—always generous. No wonder he was valedictorian back in the day." "Someone get this on camera. The golden couple from high school is finally reconnecting after all these years? That's destiny right there." Sarah blushed and shyly reached her wine glass toward him. Luke smiled and didn't pull away. I just stood off to the side, quietly watching the two of them drink that cross-arm toast together. And then I remembered how I'd been ready to help him out. A bitter smile crossed my lips. Guess I was kidding myself.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, Justin Gould stands me up again. I stare at his curt text saying he has to work late. Just as I'm about to reply, I accidentally enter an outdoor livestream. The camera shifts, and Justin suddenly comes into view. I frantically rewind the livestream, replaying the footage again and again to make sure I'm not mistaken. It's not just because Justin has lied to me. The child in his arms has the same distinctive birthmark on his neck as my son, Tommy Gould, the baby I was told had died after being born prematurely. My heart pounds as I rush to the location shown on the livestream. But when I get there, I hear the child call the woman beside him "Mom". She is Justin's foster sister, Lyra Gould. Justin wraps his arm around her, his voice full of affection. "If you could have children, I never would've married Zoey. You wanted a child, so I had one with her just for you. I told that fool our son had died, and she actually believed me. Lyra, you're the only one I love." I stand frozen, my heart turning cold. Only then do I realize that all these years, I was just a vessel for them to have a child.

The day Ethan Pierce’s stepsister, who suffered from depression, threatened suicide for the ninety-ninth time, he abandoned me at the altar for the ninety-ninth time. "As a psychiatrist, I have a responsibility to my patient." And just like that, the system declared that I had failed my mission. My punishment was severe depression. Every last trace of my will to live was taken from me. From that day on, all I wanted was to die as quickly as possible so I could return to my original world. By the time Ethan finally realized that I truly wanted to die, he was desperate. He used everything he had learned in his entire career to try to cure me. To awaken even the slightest bit of love I had once felt for him. To force me to stay in this world. But I didn’t want him anymore. I hadn’t for a long time.

To give my wife a sense of security, I stepped back once the company was on track and took over things at home. In ten years, Adeline Hemsley had never brought me to a single company gala. When the tenth anniversary celebration was announced at a five-star hotel, I finally asked if I could come with her. She was slipping into a pair of heels, not even looking in my direction. "You're my husband. If you show up, people won't feel comfortable." Before leaving, she leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. "Be good. Once this busy stretch is over, we'll take Cole to Silver Coast." The door clicked shut. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the Legos and picture books scattered across the floor. A familiar heaviness settled in my chest. Our three-year-old came running over, holding up a black phone. "Dad! Mom forgot her phone!" I hesitated. This wasn't the one she normally used. The moment my fingers brushed the screen, a message preview popped up. [Babe, I picked out a suit for the gala. It's only 6,000. You’ll get it for me, right?]

The year the Lawson family was on the edge of bankruptcy, my father made a deal with Rory Lawson and arranged for me to marry him. I didn't know he already had a fiancée, who was also his childhood sweetheart. Later, when my father became embroiled in a scandal and the company faced collapse, Rory brought her home, promising her the grand wedding she deserved. I didn't cry or make a scene. I just quietly packed my bags. Rory sneered, "Don't pull that hard-to-get act. You think you're still the pampered heiress?" Unknown to him, I had the divorce agreement he signed while drunk. In seven days, I'd be leaving the country with my father.

The year Leonard Jasper goes bankrupt, he takes a job as a butler at the Sullivan residence to make money. Wanting to help him shoulder his debts, I join him and take a job as a maid there. But when static from my cheap knitted shirt shocks Xandra Sullivan, the Sullivan family's eldest daughter, Leonard locks me in the shock room. "Honey, she's Ms. Sullivan. We're household staff. If I don't punish you, we'll both lose our jobs." He shuts the electrical cabinet door, giving me no chance to defend myself. After being shocked until I'm covered in purple bruises, I finally manage to crawl out of the shock room, only to find Leonard pinning Xandra against the wall, kissing her passionately. With a commanding edge to his voice, he says, "Lift your hips. You're soaking wet. Does role-playing feel this good?" With her earlobe between his teeth, Xandra says coyly, "You're having just as much fun, aren't you?" He silences the moans that follow with a kiss. When she speaks again, my heart turns cold. Xandra says mockingly, "She still doesn't know you're married, does she?" He frowns and smacks her on the butt. "Shut up and focus." "Don't forget, our marriage is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. She's the one I truly love. What right do you have to talk about her?" A bone-deep chill runs through me. So it turns out he isn't actually bankrupt. I'm nothing more than his kept woman. Heartbroken and disillusioned, I choose to leave. Yet Leonard spends the next three years desperately searching everywhere for me.

My name is Briella Goodwin. For three years after losing my memory, my mortal enemy, Ronan Cooper, and I have fought relentlessly. He snatches my project in the eastern suburbs, so I destroy his in the west. He runs me over and hospitalizes me, so I shoot him in the leg. Everyone in Velport knows we are both maniacs. That is until my men make a mistake, letting him find an opening to kidnap my father, Adam Goodwin. When I rush to the scene, his grip on Dad's hand suddenly loosens. "It all ends here!" he says. The madness that has lurked in his eyes for three years vanishes in an instant. I freeze, as if he has suddenly become a total stranger. He looks at me with a bitter smile. "I lied to you. We were never enemies... We were lovers!" My mind goes completely blank. "Back then, your father tricked mine into buying a worthless piece of land, causing him to die of a heart attack. I hated your father. I hated him even more than I loved you. "You'd just lost your memory then, so… So, I lied and said we were enemies. Only then could I vent my hatred on you with a clear conscience." My throat tightens, and my voice turns hoarse. "Wh-Why are you telling me this now?" I ask him. A soft light shimmers in his eyes. "I don't want Sera to worry about me anymore. So, I don't want revenge anymore," he says. Sera Pierson is his mistress. The blood in my veins runs cold. He gives up on me for the sake of revenge. Now, he's giving up on revenge for another woman. I laugh. Then, I pull out my gun and aim it straight at his heart.

I've had a terrible sense of direction since I was a child. I can walk past an intersection and forget it the second it's behind me. My boyfriend, Lucas Wentworth, and my best friend, Brielle Fontaine, were always finding new ways to "train" me out of it. We went camping together. When I woke the next morning, both of them were gone. I panicked until I found a note. [Nora, we're doing this for your own good. You're an adult now. You can't expect everyone to accommodate you forever.] Underneath it was another line in Brielle's handwriting. [Sweetie, I took your phone too so you can't call for help. You can do it!] I spent an entire day and night trying to get out of the mountains. My shoes tore open. My hands went numb from the cold. Mud and weeds covered me from head to toe. I had to keep stopping strangers and asking for directions before I finally found my way back to the lodge. Through the restaurant window, I saw them sitting over a steaming pot of fondue. Lucas reached across the table and casually wiped sauce from the corner of Brielle's mouth. I stood there watching them, and something inside me went cold. I was never walking Lucas's road again.

The day I caught my husband, McCoy, cheating, my postpartum depression took a turn for the worse. It was the 99th time I’d tried to swallow a bottle of pills. Our baby wailed hysterically in his stroller. My best friend, Raleigh, grabbed and desperately forced the pills out of my mouth. McCoy scooped me into his arms and rushed me to the ER, guilt written all over his face when he said, “Just make it through one more day, Moira. For each day you survive, write down one wish. “When you get better, I’ll make every one of them come true.” By the time I’d reached 1,000 wishes, the doctors were pleased enough with my progress to discharge me. Overjoyed, I went ahead home to surprise my family, only to find the wall where our wedding portrait had been hung replaced with photographs I’d never seen before. Raleigh posed with McCoy and our child in the photos. Some of the photographs were taken during a vacation. At the bottom was one last empty frame with a location printed: Disneyland. I opened TikTok from my alt account and searched for Raleigh’s handle. Her latest video was from Disneyland. “One last trip with my favorite people. Maybe in our next life, the three of us can finally be a family.” The comments were overflowing with sympathy from mutual friends and my coworkers. McCoy’s comment at the bottom stood out. “Thank you, Raleigh. You gave me somewhere to breathe during these past three years. “If there’s another life, I hope you’ll be my wife.” With trembling fingers, I tapped on her profile and found over 1,000 videos just like it. For three years—more than 1,000 days—she had not been absent from their lives. I quietly pulled out the wish list and crossed out my last wish to be with McCoy forever, replacing another. “I hope you get everything you wished for.” There was no need for another life. Raleigh could just take my place and be a more fitting wife and mother. This time, I would be the one to leave.

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me. I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley. But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath. He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes. "I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!" "Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!" Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave. I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

On the day the country's most notorious serial killer, Henry Luther, is scheduled for execution, I personally escort him to the death chamber. Just before his sentence is carried out, he suddenly looks at me with pity. "The truth is, I only killed 17 people. I deserve to die, but you can't blame me for what happened to your medical examiner husband." The moment he mentions Victor Ashford, all my hatred comes rushing back. Three years ago, Victor served as the city's chief medical examiner. While protecting a crucial piece of evidence, he was stabbed dozens of times by Henry. I rushed back from another city overnight, only to find Victor's body mutilated beyond recognition. Overcome with grief, I began hemorrhaging and lost our baby when I was three months pregnant. For the next three years, I repeatedly risk my life hunting down Henry, determined to capture him myself and avenge Victor. Following an address Henry left behind, I track down a modest house. The moment I step into the yard, however, I freeze. Victor is standing there with his arms around his younger colleague, Colette Jennings, kissing her tenderly. Nearby, a two-or-three-year-old child sits on a swing. My mind goes blank. Just as I start toward them, someone grabs me from behind. It's my mentor, George Ryland. "Victor's happy now. For your own sake, let him go." I shove him aside and fire three shots into an empty patch of ground, my expression completely blank. "Victor Ashford, you're under arrest for suspected of bigamy. Come with me."

It is the ninth time I bring up marriage with Shane Yardley, my boyfriend, and he finally gives in. "You know I don't believe in marriage. Do you really need a marriage certificate just to have peace of mind? Haven't I treated you well enough over the years to prove my sincerity, Jasmine?" Shane is truly wonderful. He is gentle, caring, and wealthy. He has never once complained even though I can't bear him any children. Those around envy how lucky I am to have such a great partner. He seems ready to give me everything aside from a marriage certificate. Shane wraps his arms around me after noticing my silence and tries to sweet-talk me. "If it means that much to you, I'll go with you to register our marriage tomorrow." Yet, when the next day comes, Shane suddenly tells me he has to leave on a business trip because something came up at work and rushes off. I watch him leave without saying a word. I suddenly notice the documents he left on the desk. I can't get through to him, so I have no choice but to bring them to the hotel where he's staying. Yet, the person the front desk calls down turns out to be a young pregnant woman instead. She rests her hand on her baby bump and smiles gently. "I'm Shane Yardley's wife. And you are?" I am shaken to my core. Shane rushes over before I can answer the young woman. He immediately steps in front of her, gestures toward me, and says, "I'd like you to meet Jasmine Quinton, m-my cousin."

The mountain has gotten sealed due to the heavy blizzard. As the only driver who has cleared the winding mountain road with 72 bends repeatedly without a casualty under my belt, I've received a ten-million-dollar rescue order to rescue someone at the end of the treacherous road. Ten years ago, I had been there once. Back then, my daughter, Hannah Reed, and her classmates were met with a storm turbulence when they went parachuting. Left without a choice, they activated the emergency landing protocols. But Hannah, my darling daughter whom I had doted on and loved for 17 years, ended up dying there due to the search and rescue team not arriving in time. Later on, I found out that my wife, Grace Ellwood, completely disregarded Hannah's safety. Instead, she chose to dump a million dollars into rerouting the entire search and rescue team to another route, where they ended up rescuing Grace's first love, Elias Quinn's daughter, Kiara Quinn. The thing was, Kiara had merely twisted her ankle from climbing the mountain that day. After Hannah's death, I give up on my prestigious career as a professor and retreat all the way to this place willingly as a low-income driver. Since then, I keep driving down the road of death over and over again, with my life hanging on the balance. I take the time to remember every single bend of the road. For the next ten years, no one else dies on this mountain. Today, my best friend, Julian Hayes, issues me the ten-million-dollar rescue request. Apparently, I am to set off immediately.

For ten years, I stand by Robert Lopez's side, watching him rise from the trenches of obscurity to the blinding heights of superstardom. But on the night he clinches the Best Actor award, he drops to one knee and proposes to a starlet he's known for less than ten days. Those eyes that are so full of love and devotion, no matter who they're looking at, turn cold and threatening for the first time. "Danielle, I've slept with her, so I need to take responsibility. You're willing to stay by my side without a title or a promise, but she can't. She needs a sense of security." A bitter laugh escapes me. That's when I finally understand that love has nothing to do with time. But hear this, Robert. Just because I've waited for you for ten years doesn't mean I deserve to be treated like trash or that you're the only man for me.

Three years after my husband, George Martins, cheated and begged to come home, I cheated too. He rushed home to find me lying on our marital bed. My skin was covered in fresh love bite marks and dark bruises. "George, no wonder you cheated on me so many times. "I get it now. It feels amazing." George's eyes snapped wide. His gaze turned bloodshot. He grabbed my throat and slammed me into the mattress. "Clara, do you really hate me this much? "I came home! I became the perfect husband! What more do you want from me?" He wasn't lying. For three years, he did everything to make me feel safe. He handed over his phone every night. He video-called me every five minutes whenever he left the house. He knew his infidelity made my skin crawl. Every time he wanted intimacy, he scrubbed his body three times and disinfected himself five times. My fingertips trembled. I stared straight into his eyes. "Your body came back, but what about your mind? "Every time you get drunk, you scream Maya's name! Every dress you buy me is a white gown she would wear! “You bring home her favorite roses on our anniversary! Even the anniversary ring you bought me was fitted to her finger! "You cut physical ties with her, but you're forcing me to turn into her!" George's hand shook against my neck. He forced a twisted smirk. "Clara, you have no right to lecture me now. I cheated, sure. But are you any better?" "We’re both trash. We deserve each other." His shameless words turned my three years of silent agony into a complete joke. Exhaustion settled heavy in my chest. I didn't want this marriage anymore.

We were having a gathering before graduation. My girlfriend and best friend were getting congratulated by the whole class. They had gained guaranteed spots into the campus' top course's postgraduate program. I was sitting in a corner, staring at the Hertford University offer that would ensure I went straight to my doctorate. I hesitated on making a decision for three days just for my girlfriend. Howard Herbson, my best friend, turned to me. He had a look of pity and condescension in his eyes as he said, "How about your job hunt? Don't worry. Not getting into the postgrad program isn't the end of the world. The lab's requirements are ridiculous. "It's going to be near impossible for you to progress there even if you work yourself to the bone." Beatrice Shaw, my girlfriend, handed Howard a glass of water. Then, she chimed in matter-of-factly, "Yeah. Research just isn't for everyone. You should get a nine-to-five. When Howard and I are swamped with us, you can help us out and do our errands." They exchanged a smile and kept me out of their so-called intellectual circle. These two thought they were better than everyone else just because they got a spot in this campus' postgrad program. How droll. So, I went back to that offer and accepted it. These people were so vastly beneath me that it was really about time for me to stop playing their games at their level, especially when I was obviously not welcome.

My husband, Kenneth Sterling, dies of a sudden heart attack while burning cash bundles at a grave. However, when I arrive to claim his body, I discover a bottle of emergency heart medication in his pocket. The cops offer their condolences, explaining that Kenneth must've been so overwhelmed by grief that he didn't have time to take his medication. I nod in agreement but freeze the moment I see the photo on the tombstone. The woman staring back at me is none other than Kenneth's deceased ex-wife, Roxana Clark. Just then, a recurring reminder pops up on his phone. "1. Withdraw 100 grand from the bank and burn it for Roxana." "2. I've taken a wife to care for my elderly parents. Now, I willingly give up my life to reunite with Roxana in God's embrace." I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. Day in and day out, I work hard and pinch pennies to cover Kenneth's parents' medical bills. Yet, he has been burning stacks of cash for a dead woman for more than a decade. As heartbreaking as it is absurd, my old illness flares up, and I die on the spot. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Kenneth and I tie the knot.

Zane Mercer and I had grown up together. Both our families took it for granted that we would end up together after graduation. He never bothered to hide it, either. Whenever someone brought us up, he would say, “Vivian gets scared so easily. She can’t manage without me.” I believed him for over a decade. Until the first department dinner at college. The prettiest girl in our department carried her drink over and sat beside him, smiling as she asked, “I heard you have a childhood sweetheart. Is she your girlfriend?” Amid the teasing and excited chatter, my cheeks flushed. I waited for him to nod. But Zane hesitated. “No. She’s just the girl next door.” Someone nudged the girl beside him. “Then you’ve got a chance!” She smiled brightly. “I’ll be counting on you to look after me from now on.” Zane didn’t pull away. Instead, he smiled back. “Sure.” In that moment, I remembered how he’d worried about me getting sunburned during the summer camp and gone out in the middle of the night to buy me sunscreen. I remembered how he’d held my hand while we filled out our college applications and promised we’d keep walking through life together. So all those years of affection meant nothing compared to one smile from her. On the way back, he caught up with me to explain. “Selene’s pretty straightforward. I just didn’t want to embarrass her.” I asked, “So it’s fine to embarrass me instead?” He frowned. “Vivian, since when did you get so sensitive?” I said nothing more. That night, I changed all our photos to private. From then on, I would be nothing more than the girl next door.

On Valentine's Day, my fiancee, Camilla Stenson, is admitted to the ER in the middle of the night for food poisoning. In her dazed state, she blurts out, "Nathan, I'm sorry I let you down. If it weren't for me being broke back then, I wouldn't have gotten together with Hendrick." My name is Hendrick Toff, while Nathan Langdon is her first love. It seems that she's forgotten that after the Stenson family went bankrupt, Nathan abandoned her and headed overseas. For the past eight years, I was the one who paid off her debts and remained by her side. Yet, in the end, the person she's always held close to her heart is none other than Nathan. I calmly tell her I want to break up with her, then toss my engagement ring into the trash. However, she says, "Can't you be more magnanimous? Nathan definitely wouldn't be as unreasonable as you." I laugh. "In that case, I'll be giving a piece of trash like you over to him as well."

On my wedding day with Jack Miller, he ran off with his first love As if to taunt me, he would send a photo of himself with her from every new destination they visited. I was getting a manicure and enjoying imported French pastries with my afternoon tea when I received their ninety-ninth photo. But after three years of absence, Jack suddenly returned. He pointed at my wedding photo with someone else and shouted, “How dare you fool around with another man while I was gone!" I couldn't help but laugh. "What other man? I've been married to my husband for three years now." "Jack, you didn't actually think I was waiting for you all this time, did you?"