Feel-Good Story Romance Short Stories & Hypocrisy Novels

On my wedding day, my fiancé and my younger sister Rachel were caught doing the dirty in the private lounge. I immediately became a laughing stock, until my childhood friend Jason Law publicly proposed to me, defending my honor. After we got married, he was the perfect husband… except for his performance in the bedroom. It was like his heart was never in it. I only managed to get pregnant after going for IVF this year. After that, he became even more protective of me. I once believed he was my sanctuary… until I overheard his conversation with his friend. “You’re ruthless, Jason. Nina’s so good to you. How could you swap out her egg with Rachel’s just because Rachel is too afraid of the pain to give birth? “The baby’s due in two months. What do you plan to do then?” Jason was silent for a bit, then he sighed. “I’ll give Rachel the baby once it’s born. It’s one of her greatest wishes, after all. “As for Nina, I’ll tell her the baby died. “I’ll make it up to her by staying with her for the rest of her life.” So that was how it was. He only protected me so gently for her sake. I turned around and immediately made a surgery appointment. I was throwing away this filthy baby… and this false marriage.

My girlfriend, Megan Sutton, was a pragmatist. On our anniversary, I gave her a bouquet of flowers. She turned right around and returned it to the florist. "That was over thirty dollars. We could've had a whole steak dinner for that." Once the renovations on our marital home were finished, we went browsing at a furniture store and came across a really comfortable ergonomic chair. She glanced at the price tag and immediately pulled me up out of it. "It costs more than a computer. Your butt isn't made of gold." I knew all about her pragmatic principles, and I hadn't really meant to buy it anyway. I wandered around the store in a funk, and in the end, we went home empty-handed. But two days later, I saw that exact chair at the place next door, where our junior labmate, Jeff Baxter, lived. "Thank you, you two! Best seniors ever! You didn't even let yourselves buy one, and you got me such an expensive birthday present. "I'm about to cry. When you two get married, I'm writing you the biggest check of anyone." I thought about the package I'd received that afternoon. It was a chair Megan had bought me online. It was shoddily made and reeked of chemicals. I'd even cut my hand on the sheet metal while putting it together. Looking around Jeff's place, I suddenly remembered when we'd picked out our sofa. She'd said genuine leather was too expensive, so we'd settled on a dark gray performance fabric. Only a few days later, Jeff had swapped his for a new sofa. Seeing me frozen in place, Megan explained, "I just thought it'd match the style of Jeff's place. It's exactly his taste." She'd furnished our new home cheaply and halfheartedly, yet whenever she saw something nice, the first person she thought of was her junior. For me, it was all about practicality and value for money. For him, it was about style and taste. If that was how it was, I'd let them have their romance and bow out of this seven-year relationship.

Maren Reeves, my best friend, suddenly told me she'd gotten back together with her ex. I tore into her for going back to a man who'd already hurt her, but she only gave me a bitter smile. "Maybe some people are just destined to keep getting tangled up with each other. Renee, I don't need your validation. I just don't want you to be mad at me." At the time, I didn't understand what Maren really meant. I thought she was only worried I'd get worked up over that jerk again. Seeing the conflict on her face, I couldn't bring myself to keep scolding her. I simply hugged her and told her not to settle for anything that made her unhappy. Then, a year later, I went to the hospital because of severe menstrual cramps and unexpectedly saw her leaving the maternity ward. Confused, I was about to approach her when a man hurried over, carefully helping her along and fussing over her every need. In an instant, I instinctively ducked behind the corner, my entire body trembling uncontrollably. Because that man was none other than Isaiah Cole, my husband of three years.

The day my fiancé returned from deployment, he invited me to the celebration gala held in his honor at the Prescott family estate. My younger half-sister begged to come because she hoped to meet an eligible man, and I brought her without hesitation. At dinner, my future mother-in-law laughed and said, "That stubborn son of mine is finally going to marry the woman he loves." I blushed and turned to find Major Adrian Prescott staring directly at me. The moment I caught him, he lowered his head too quickly, took a drink, and nearly choked. His fellow officers teased him while my half-sister leaned close and whispered that she envied me. I believed my future could not have been brighter. Then words made of golden light appeared before my eyes. [Within one hour, Delia Langford will be found half-dressed beside Adrian Prescott.] [The guests will believe they caught them together. Adrian will be pressured to marry Delia, accept a permanent overseas posting, and never return to Ravenmere.] Ice filled my veins. Delia was the innocent-looking half-sister sitting beside me with her arm linked through mine. ...

Silas Grant and I are renowned in our social circle for being a loving couple. However, a month before our wedding, he calls everything off. He wants to marry the poor student that my parents have been sponsoring. I demand an explanation. He says to me, "Vivian will have to marry that cripple if I don't marry her. You're the kindest person I know, Serena. I'm sure you can understand why I'm doing this." "Fine, then," I say. Silas leans down to kiss my cheek. He holds me happily and says, "I knew you'd agree to this. Don't worry, okay? I'll divorce her once this matter is settled." I push him away lightly and wipe his saliva from my cheek. Then, I pull out an invitation from my pocket. He takes it. His smile freezes when he sees the names on the invitation.

After a night of passion, the amnesiac boyfriend I took in leaned back against the couch and watched me. My legs were still weak as I headed into the kitchen to prepare a meal for him. Halfway through cooking, he suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind. After a moment of silence, he murmured, "Actually, I lied about having amnesia. I'm the heir to the Payne family." I burst out laughing. "Sure. And I'm the daughter of the richest man in the country." He pinched my cheek and laughed along with me. "I have a fiancee," he added. "I'm getting married tomorrow." Feeling me stiffen in his arms, he pulled out his phone and showed me a photo. "She's too possessive to tolerate another woman around me, so I ran away from home," he explained. "But the first time I saw you, I wanted you. It was purely physical. So, I faked amnesia just so I could stick around." I stared at the photo. Chandler Payne—the man I had been calling my boyfriend—was leaning into his fiancee, Sabrina Shaw. They looked like a perfect match. Tears streamed down my cheeks before I could stop them. Chandler sighed, pulling me tighter against his chest as he stroked my hair with that same doting touch. "Hey, don't cry," he said softly. "It's not like I have a choice either. My heart already belongs to her, but my body wants you. "It's just a marriage of convenience anyway. As long as we're careful not to get you pregnant, we can keep seeing each other." "So…" he paused, then asked, "It'll be dawn soon. Are you coming with me?"

One of my roommates at the dorm was a competitive person. Whenever I studied, she would be anxious. If I opened a package, she would ask me what I was buying. She would also pressure me to tell her my whereabouts. There was even a time when I turned in my bed, she suddenly opened my divider curtain and asked me if I was secretly studying. I was literally going to go insane, but our nonchalant counsellor told me that I was overreacting. After that, I failed to secure a postgraduate position, but she managed to study overseas. When she returned, she became my supervisor. She told everyone she met that I was a very competitive person, and she kept assigning a lot of tasks for me to do. In the end, I died from overworking. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her get into my bed. I recorded the sound of pages flipping and turned on the night light. I played the recording for the entire night. If she wanted to be anxious and lose her sleep, so be it!

I spent five years delivering food and saved up enough to buy a home, all so I could marry my girlfriend of five years, Megan Portman. On the day of the bride pickup, the bridesmaids went all out with their pre-wedding mini games, and I happily played along. But once every cash envelope had been handed out, I realized something was off. Megan's best friend, Jeanie Westwood, pulled out her phone and opened her payment app. "We want to share in the good luck too. There are eighteen of us here, so each of us gets 999 dollars. We'll bless your marriage to be a long-lasting and happy one." After a lot of pleading, I scraped together 20,000 dollars and sent it over. I figured that was enough to finally win my bride. Instead, Megan sat on the bed and refused to let her feet touch the floor. "My mom just laid down the law. The send-off fee is going up. Let's round it off to 66,000 dollars." I was stunned. "Didn't we agree on 6,600 dollars? Where am I supposed to get another 60,000 dollars right now?" Megan played with her nails, her face cold. "That's your problem. If you can't come up with the money, I'm not putting my shoes on." I looked around at the room full of relatives enjoying the show and stood up. "This wedding is off."

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?]

At my engagement party, a female dog was sitting on my fiancee’s seat. Her guy best friend, Ryan Anderson, was holding the leash. “Bro, don’t take it personally. Your fiancee drank too much the night before at her bachelorette party, that’s why I’m letting her sleep in for a bit longer.” Everyone looked at me mockingly as they laughed. I felt as though someone had slapped me. All the guests had arrived, but Lily Smith showed up late. “It’s our engagement party today. Are you asking me to marry a dog?” I asked as I suppressed my anger. Lily grabbed Ryan’s sleeve and glared at me impatiently. “What are you talking about? Ryan saw that I was too tired, so he let me rest for a bit longer. Are you seriously offended? “As my fiance, you should be more understanding, like him!” It felt ridiculous and wrong to me. My heart sank as I stood up. “Fine, since he treats you so well, you should marry him then!”

Everyone in Harbor City knows that the city's prince, Brandon Schmidt, is a devoted husband. Countless homewrecker wannabes are dealt with before they can even reach me. But one day, I see Brandon's text conversation with one of his mistresses. "You're going to open up for me tonight." "It's so embarrassing to be doing this on your wife's bed." Meanwhile, my arm is shattered from dealing with one of his competitors. The conversation makes my stomach turn. So be it, then. No one's getting off easy now.

I'm born with a congenital heart condition. But when my illness flares up, my longtime boyfriend, Zeke Fulton, doesn't try his best to save me. On the contrary, he forces me to sign over my shares while I'm in agony. Then, he stands by and watches as the pain rips through me. I end up dying on that hospital bed. Thankfully, I'm given a second chance at life. I'm reborn on the very last day of filling out college applications. This time, I don't fall for Zeke's sweet talk. I turn my back on him and run straight into the arms of my childhood friend, Hugo Lodge. Hugo wraps me up in his embrace, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. He says, "Elisa, come to Joslin University with me."

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.

One night, I calculate the expenses of giving birth to a child as I lounge on the bed. The expenses include delivery costs, nutritional costs, diapers and milk powder for the baby, and a nanny's salary. My husband, Louis Hoffman, suddenly says, "I know why your ex-boyfriend broke up with you now." When he notices my confusion, he continues, "There's no need to spend so much money just to give birth to a child. You're the only one who cares about these things." He frowns and crosses out "nanny's salary" from the list I've written in my notebook. "Why do you want to hire a nanny? Your mother can just come over and take care of you after childbirth. You also don't need to pay for nutrition. Just eat whatever's available. You'll be wasting your money if you buy those supplements. "You also don't need to buy expensive diapers and milk powder. The cheaper generic brands will do. You're just feeding your own ego by buying the branded ones. There's also no need to pay for a private delivery room. You can give birth in a shared one too. No need to waste thousands of dollars." Louis turns on his side so that his back is facing me. "It's no wonder your ex-boyfriend broke up with you. No man can put up with a frivolous spender like you," he says nonchalantly. My heart slowly sinks into my gut as I stare at the list that's covered in his scribbles. I think about how he bought a yacht for my sister, Madison Golding, to celebrate her birthday yesterday. He even declares that nothing is more valuable than Madison's smile. "You might as well forget about giving birth if you want to spend so extravagantly," Louis says. I hum in response, deciding that I won't give birth anymore.

As the future daughter-in-law, I am making my first formal visit to my fiancé Patrick Underwood's family on Thanksgiving. At the dinner table, I raise my glass to make a toast when Patrick's childhood sweetheart, Lana Rowe, suddenly stands up and says to my future father-in-law, Alfred Underwood, "Dad, thank you for letting Patrick give me a son." I freeze on the spot. Mr. Underwood looks at Lana with emotion and says, "You've always known how to repay kindness, and you and Patrick grew up together. He should consider himself lucky to have you bear his child." Everyone at the table nods in agreement. Not a single person thinks there is anything wrong with this. Only then does Patrick finally notice me standing off to the side. He explains, "Don't get the wrong idea. Lana has no intention of ever getting married. She'd be lonely in her old age if she didn't have a child, so I was just helping her out. "Agnes, you already have me, so whether we have kids or not doesn't change anything." Dad shoots me a stern look. "If you dare cause a scene at Thanksgiving dinner, you can get out!" Lana suddenly laughs. "Come on, don't be so serious, everyone. Agnes has always been so understanding—surely she won't make a fuss over something so trivial." She then turns to me. "If Patrick and I really had something going on, you wouldn't have had a chance to marry him in the first place. Besides, you can be our son Douglas Underwood's godmother. The three of us can raise him together." I don't take the glass of wine Lana offers me. Instead, I glance at Patrick again. He gestures for me not to make a scene. A lump forms in my throat. In that instant, I find the whole situation utterly ridiculous. I immediately message my professor, Gary Massey, who has been hoping I would become his daughter-in-law. "Professor Massey, does your son, Bradley Massey, know about my situation?" Professor Massey replies instantly, "Yes. As long as you're willing, this marriage is as good as settled." "Okay, I'll marry Bradley."

The most popular girl from my high school is getting married. She invites everyone in our class to the wedding. I want to act like I don't see the message, but she deliberately tags me in the group chat. "You kept pretending to be a rich girl like me in high school, but I don't hold it against you. In fact, I'll allow you to attend my wedding tomorrow to see what the rich life is like." The other classmates speak up. "You're so generous, Haley. It's no wonder you can marry someone from the Baumer family. I can't believe you can even forgive someone as materialistic as Emma!" "Does someone like Emma Larkin even deserve to attend Haley's wedding? She's so full of herself." As the insults become worse, Haley Stockwell steps forward to keep the peace. "Come on, let's put this behind us. I'm not bothered by these things since it's been so long. Anyway, let's not bear a grudge against Emma when she's already so poor and ugly." Everyone in the group chat starts singing her praises and calling her kind and innocent. I sneer. Haley is the one who kept pretending to be rich—I'm the true heiress from an affluent family, yet she made me out to be a liar. She turned me into the target of everyone's insults. I check the digital wedding invitation to see that the venue is my villa. The groom looks familiar—isn't he my husband's driver? I smile at the thought of what's going to happen. I reply, "Sure! I have to attend your wedding!"

Chuck's beloved ex, Ella, got divorced and showed up with her two-year-old daughter. Without asking me, he let Ella and her kid move into our home. Then Ella posted a photo of Chuck holding the child, captioned: [My husband cheated, so I filed for divorce, gave my baby a new dad, and found myself a new husband.] The comments were full of praise: [Real-life boss woman drama!] I had to laugh—so being a homewrecker is what counts as a strong woman now? Chuck didn't see a problem. He even told the child to call me "Momma." "Ella's husband cheated on her. She's raising a kid alone. As a woman, can't you have a little empathy? I'm just helping her out." Well, I had no empathy to give—not for the mistress, and definitely not for the scumbag.

I spent countless sleepless nights developing a breakthrough drug for a devastating illness, and I expected at least some recognition from my CEO girlfriend. Instead, she accused me of wasting the company research budget and promoted a newly hired young assistant to oversee the company finances. It was the middle of a brutal heatwave with temperatures that soared past ninety-eight degrees. The assistant locked the lab air-conditioning controls away so no one else could use them, while he shut himself inside his private office with the AC set to sixty degrees. He wrapped himself in a blanket and played video games. I complained to my girlfriend, and she brushed it off as part of building company culture. She claimed she gave him authority for my own good because she believed it would prepare me for a future management position. According to her, I was too narrow-minded to understand her intentions. She then shut off the lab main power supply and locked the control panel as if she wanted to teach me a lesson. The fans stopped working, and the heat grew worse. Several coworkers collapsed from heat exhaustion and were taken to the hospital. The assistant posted photos of himself and my girlfriend at an indoor ski resort. They wore winter jackets and ate ice cream together. The caption read, “Some people are sweeter than ice cream.” I finally understood everything. Her idea of company culture had never been anything more than an excuse to favor him. Everyone expected me to confront her or demand an explanation. I packed up my things instead. She mistook my silence for obedience. She believed her air-conditioning punishment had worked, and she promised that once she returned from closing her business deal, she might consider letting me enjoy the AC again. She did not know that when she shut down the lab power, the research equipment stopped running. The drug we had just finished developing became unstable, and the experimental data was destroyed. By the time the delivery deadline arrived, there would be no formula left to hand over. She would face a catastrophic breach-of-contract lawsuit and enormous financial penalties. Without access to the medication in time, she would also suffer permanent long-term complications from the illness we had tried to treat.

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.

Noelle Anderson grows up with Stephen Sedgwick, the son of the family her mother works for as a housekeeper. What starts as a childhood friendship slowly turns into love. But when Stephen's father dies, everything between them changes. Stephen turns his hatred and resentment on Noelle, taking pleasure in making her miserable. After one disappointment too many, Noelle finally walks away. But the moment Stephen hears she's getting married, he becomes desperate to win her back.