Hypocrisy Romance Short Stories & Novels

When Naomi Sullivan married me, she was already ten million dollars in debt. I spent the last five years working three jobs to help her pay off her "debts" while providing for her as well as our son, Shane Lewis. Not once did I ever complain about anything. All along, I firmly believed that my efforts would pay off, and we would eventually lead a good life together. Last week, our company finally secured a massive investment. Naomi and I hugged as we celebrated the occasion. I thought that the hard times were finally over. Today, I ended up seeing Naomi featured in the financial news. Dressed in a formal gown, she was hailed as the sole heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was shown engaged in an animated conversation with her "investor", Jared Lewis. The news headline read, "Naomi Sullivan Completes Five-Year Adversity Trial, Proves Her Ability to Build from Scratch to the Board of Directors". I trudge home in a daze. When I get there, the five-year-old Shane is playing with the latest limited-edition toy robot. He looks at me with a frosty, distant expression that bears an uncanny resemblance to his mother's. "Mommy told me everything. You failed the trial, Daddy. You care too much about money."

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."

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

My mother-in-law, Kate Irwin, has a hood over her head and a time bomb strapped to her body. Ten seconds are left. My husband, Sean Quimby, could have saved his mother. As Efton's top bomb disposal expert, Sean could cut the right wire without breaking a sweat. Instead, he hands the wire cutters—the tool that will decide whether Kate lives or dies—to his sobbing intern, Yara Gibson. I watch as Yara cuts the wrong wire. The timer hits zero. A wall of flames engulfs Kate. The blast wave slams into me, but Sean's first instinct is to pull Yara into his arms. He even turns his back to shield her from the flying debris, gently soothing her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here." He doesn't even spare a glance at the charred remains behind him. Only after calming Yara does he finally turn to me. He sheds a few tears and says, "Wendy, I'm sorry. I couldn't save Dahlia." My mother, Dahlia Green, is overseas, enjoying the sun and beach. She sent me a photo just moments ago. So I put on a sympathetic face and comfort him, "It's okay." After all, my mother isn't the one who died.

The day after Mom jumps off a building, I accidentally discover the second home belonging to my younger sister, Jenna Shepherd, and my husband, Edwin Reeves. Just as I'm about to open the door, I see my mom—who's supposed to be lying in her coffin by now—linking arms with Jenna, who's already three months pregnant. She beams brightly as she gives Edwin some tips and tricks on how to deal with me. "I've just faked my own death, so Reyna's guilt is definitely consuming her right now. Use this opportunity to start bringing women home with you. You'll be able to wear down her boundaries bit by bit. "The day Reyna's temper is completely mellowed is the day you can openly reunite with Jen and your child!" The next day, I spot Edwin bringing a female assistant around with him. As soon as I part my lips, he cuts me off with a glacial expression. "Stop looking for trouble, Reyna Shepherd. Remember what you did when you suspected me of having an affair with Jenna? You splashed gasoline all over our home with the intention to die with us. In the end, your actions are what killed your own mother!" At that moment, I lose what little energy I have to remain entangled with Edwin. I no longer demand answers from Edwin whenever I smell an unfamiliar perfume clinging to his clothes. Gone are my hysterical questions about the panties that appear out of nowhere in our home. Even after stumbling upon Edwin calling out Jenna's name in a drunken fashion, I take the initiative to bring her home with me. After going through a prenatal check-up, Jenna claims that she doesn't want her baby to be born as an illegitimate child as tears track down her cheeks. That's when I sign the divorce agreement and pass it to her. "Your child can't live without a father. That's why you two should get married as soon as possible." Weirdly enough, Edwin rips up the agreement and grips me by my chin tightly. He looks like he's about to break as he yells at me desperately, "In the past, you'd rather die with me than divorce me, Reyna! What makes you think you get to ditch me first?"

Sean Chase had once lost everything after being scammed by his ex-girlfriend. Even after he rebuilt his life, the trauma stayed with him. On the very first day we started dating, he told me he wanted us to split every expense fifty-fifty. "It's the only way I can believe you're with me for me, not my money." I was with him because I loved him, so I agreed. And for the next five years, that was exactly how our relationship functioned. We split the bill for Valentine's Day dinners. We split the cost of a $2.50 pack of birth control pills. We even split our $900 monthly rent. Then, one week before our wedding, my dad got into a car accident and was hospitalized. Almost at the same time, two bills came in. The hospital wanted $17,000 for my dad's surgery, and Sean wanted $1,700 for my half of the wedding dress. I checked my bank account and saw I had less than $14,000. With no way to cover everything, I asked Sean if he could front me the money. Half an hour passed before he finally replied. "Can't keep up the act any longer now that we're about to get married?" Then another message appeared. "Liana Zane, this is worse than what my ex did. At least she was upfront about wanting my money." I tried to explain, but before I could get a message out, he sent another. "How convenient. We're about to get married, and your dad just happens to get into a car accident. Maybe we're bad luck for each other." Maybe he was right. So I returned the wedding dress and walked out of his life.

Six months into the renovation of my wedding home, nobody around me is free to lend a hand. My fiancée, Tamara Jackson, is busy with a company project. My older sister, Melody Shea, claims to always be away on business trips. My good friend, Derek Hill, tells me that he has some family issues to handle. Yet, on the day before I move in, they blindfold me and tell me that an unexpected person is in the house—someone who has done the honors of "warming the house" for me. As soon as the door is opened, I see my childhood friend, Ian Scott, whom I haven't met in years. He pulls me into the house with a smile, my slippers on his feet, and asks, "Are you surprised?" I certainly am, at least up until he adds, "I'm lucky and grateful to have had so much help recently. Tammy helped me pick out a mattress, and Melody helped me transport my luggage. Derek even accompanied me to pick out the curtains." My smile slowly fades away. It turns out that my family and friends weren't busy per se. They were just all busy helping Ian. I open the door to the master bedroom. I find that the bedding I purchased has been swapped out for another color, the desk is covered with Ian's things, and half my wardrobe has been cleaned out. I ask, "If he's staying here, then where am I supposed to stay?" Tamara frowns and replies, "Ian's engagement was just called off, so he's feeling pretty down. You can just stay with Melody for a couple of weeks." Melody also attempts to persuade me by saying, "All of us here grew up together, so let's not be such strangers." Derek tries to smooth things over with a smile. "Ian's had plenty of bad luck recently. It'd be perfect if staying in your wedding home could cause a bit of good luck to rub off on him," he says. After gazing at them for several seconds, I smile too. Then, I walk over to the front door and change the electronic lock's passcode. Tamara's smile falls off, and she asks, "What are you doing?" I reply, "Nothing much. I just suddenly remembered that I'm legally the sole owner of this property."

My grandfather is hit by a car, and his skull is shattered. I take the driver to court. That's when I find out my husband, Stuart Creed, who was supposedly abroad on a business trip, is suddenly at the hospital. He looks at me coldly and snaps, "Do you have any idea how important Maddy’s valedictorian announcement is? Her future can't be ruined by some car accident! Drop the case right now, or I'll cut off all your credit cards and have your grandfather kicked out of the VIP ward!" He slams the door and storms out. Before that, he snarls, "Come home when you agree. Until then, forget about calling yourself Mrs. Creed!" While I'm out desperately trying to gather money for my grandfather's surgery, a team of lawyers contacts me. Turns out the patent my grandfather once authorized to Creed Group has expired. And now, I'm the new legal owner.

Sorevia City, Darmoria One of my wife's so-called friends practically shouted across the table, "So, you got knocked up by your side piece. What's the game plan?" Vanessa Joplin calmly set a plate of steak in front of me. "We always said if one of us cheated, we'd vanish from each other's lives for good," she said, all sugar-sweet. "I'm not letting that happen. So yeah—I've been careful. Once the baby's here, the only dad anyone'll see is Glen." After that, she signed that she'd love me forever—totally missing the red burn around my eyes. She didn't know I'd gotten my hearing back a week ago. Didn't know I already knew about the guy on the side. And she definitely didn't know I'd bought a ticket north. Seven days. Once the paperwork cleared, I'd be gone. No noise. No goodbye. Just erased.

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.

In my sixth year as a body diver, I finally tracked down my son's body. My husband had just come back from the construction site. That was when he calmly told me the truth. "Asher never died. I was the detective who lied and told you I couldn't find him. "I was also the city's richest man—the one who refused to pay your ransom to save him. "I never went bankrupt, either. Every time I told you I was off hauling bricks at some construction site, I was really just back at the mansion, hiding from the smell of the dead on your skin." It hit me like a blow to the head. I stood there, numb. My brother, Rick Forrest, was the one who spoke next. "That best friend you've been pouring your heart out to online this whole time—that was me. I'm also the one who made you think you'd gotten the kidnappers angry and gotten your son killed. "That's not all. Our parents didn't die in that kidnapping, either. The truth is, they were the kidnappers." Cold flooded through me. Not until I saw my parents standing there, alive, did the pain finally tear a sound out of me. "Why—" My parents' brows furrowed, distant. "It's because you made such a scene! You knew Valerie's position as a false heiress was already humiliating enough, and you still let her get into that car accident that left her unable to have children. "You owe her this much. As long as you stop going after Valerie, we can still be a family." I stood frozen where I was. Right as the pain peaked, a long-unheard chime sounded in my mind—the System, back after all this time. [Host, do you wish to abandon this redemption mission and leave this world?]

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.

On the day of our engagement party rehearsal, the wedding company suddenly calls to tell me that someone has taken over our hotel ballroom at the last minute. I rush to the hotel to sort it out, only to see my fiance's name, Clark Zimmer, on the welcome sign outside the ballroom. But I'm not the bride. Through the half-open door, I see him down on one knee, slipping a crystal slipper onto another woman's foot. Clark's mother, Darlene Foster, stands nearby. She's beaming with delight. "You two are a much better match. As for Yvonne, let her transfer the project to you first, Clark. Then we can find a reason to call off your engagement to her." Instead of storming in, I record everything on my phone and call Clark. "There's a problem with the ballroom. Can you come over and deal with it with me?" There's a brief pause before his voice turns gentle. "Babe, I'm at the hospital with Mom. She's getting some tests done, so I might not make it home tonight." I look at Darlene onstage, looking perfectly healthy as she happily greets the guests. I can't help but smile. "Alright. Take care of what you need to." I hang up and immediately call my lawyer. If Clark wants my project that badly, I'm more than happy to give him a very special gift.

On Christmas Eve, I made a wish for a miracle: a round, perky, Kardashian-worthy butt. That night, I actually dreamed about Theodore Blake, the ice-cold captain of our college hockey team. He braced one hand on a desk, caging me in as he stared at a glowing screen flickering above it. [A dream you can't escape until you've built the perfect 'XXX'?] He raised an eyebrow. “What's the missing word?” It was only a dream, so I made something up. “It's... 'body.' Who doesn't want the perfect body?” He nodded, though he still looked skeptical. From then on, he appeared in my dreams every night, putting me through a grueling workout routine. He wouldn't let me sleep until I was drenched in sweat. Ten days later, my butt was still nowhere near peach-perfect. Mission failed. The bedroom in my dream suddenly shrank until there was only room for a single dorm bed! He was six-foot-three. I was five-foot-three. And there we were, trapped together, looking utterly helpless. We stared at each other awkwardly. My face burning, I turned away. His eight-pack pressed right up against my back. Wait a second. Why can I feel his skin? And why is he so warm? When I woke up the next morning, I was wrapped up tight in my comforter. After the hockey game that day, Theodore, the campus bad boy, pinned me against the locker room door and glared at me. “Listen, from now on, stop hogging the blanket at night! “And tell me. What the hell does that damn 'XXX' mean?”

Sandra had never imagined that she would be left all alone on her wedding day. Ivy had always threaten to commit suicide due to her depression. As such, everyone would always try to please her. There was no exception even at Sandra's wedding. Sandra had had enough. She would not want to have any connection with her fiancé or her parents anymore. From now on, Sandra would only live her life for herself.

I was lounging at home, scrolling through social media, when a livestream title suddenly caught my eye—"The Other Woman Crash Course." Curious, I entered to see a woman talking animatedly, "My sugar daddy gives me 200,000 every month. I just need to keep him satisfied!" Viewers were doubtful and asked, "I don't believe you. Tell us how you two met." She smiled. "That's alright. You don't get to meet someone like that every day. I met him after doing a bone marrow transplant with his girlfriend three years ago. That's how I met this golden bachelor." I frowned. I had a bone marrow transplant three years ago too. Suddenly, the door opened, and she covered her phone in panic. A man's deep voice came through the microphone, "Baby? What're you doing? You're acting weird." My fingers froze the moment I heard that voice. He sounded so much like my fiance, Leo Harvey. I called him. The very next second, the custom ringtone I had set for Leo's phone rang clearly through the livestream.

This Thanksgiving, Elmer Fuller finally agrees to go on a trip with me. But when I wake up in the hotel, I don't see him anywhere. I spend the entire day desperately searching for him, only to stumble across a social media post from his first love. It's a selfie of her and Elmer having a cozy family dinner with her parents. The caption reads, "Someone's finally meeting the parents on Thanksgiving night. Mom and Dad can stop pressuring me to get married now!" Around her neck is the scarf my mother knitted for me before she passed. I left a comment. "Stop using my things to flirt with my husband. Take the scarf off—you can have him." Not long after, she posts an update. The scarf is shredded into pieces and tossed into a dog bed, with the caption, "What trash—too filthy even for a dog!" Elmer likes the post.

During college, while we were dating, Elias Longheart would bring me breakfast every day. There would be two portions—one for me, and one for my dormmate, Winnie Romger. For me? It was always the same—buns and oatmeal. For her? It was always different—a meal that was nutritionally balanced with meat and vegetables. Even on my birthday, he gave out gifts in pairs. For me, it was just four simple greeting cards. For her, it was concert tickets, a handmade crystal collage photo frame, a dreamy white dress, and a promise ring. … It wasn't until our graduation trip, when the three of us arrived at the train station, that everything became clear. The two of them passed through with no issue after scanning their IDs—but I was stopped at the gate. Elias slapped his forehead in frustration, giving an awkward, apologetic smile. "I was so focused on booking Winnie's ticket that I forgot yours. Look, we've already passed through. Don't waste the money—next time, I'll take you on a proper trip. It'd be just the two of us." Winnie patted her chest and assured me confidently, "Don't worry, girl. I'll keep an eye on him for you." Watching the two of them walk away side by side, laughing and chatting, I let out a bitter smile. I didn't want to keep lying to myself anymore. I turned and bought a ticket home. "Dad? That requirement for me to marry after graduation? I'll agree to it. As for that internship candidate you suggested—Elias Longheart? Cancel it."

The sole heiress of a wealthy family, Amanita Wallace, had seven prospective husbands, taken in from childhood to potentially wed her one day. All of them fulfilled her every wish, except Marcus Channing, who was cold and mean to her. Due to this, Amanita fell for him and even became his lapdog. Then, one day, she saw him pin his supposed sister against the wall and confess his feelings to her.

During the eighth month of my pregnancy, I was pushed and fell. This caused me to have a miscarriage. In order to keep me alive, my womb would be removed. Just when I was experiencing excruciating pain, I accidentally overheard the conversation between my husband and the doctor. "Mr. Lawson, Ms. White is actually in stable condition now. Are you sure you want us to remove her womb?" "This is the only way that she will truly love my and Riley's child. Riley and I will never be together, but I'll give everything that I have to our only child. Mandy already has me, isn't that enough?" After hearing their conversation with my own ears, I finally realized that the person that I loved so much was just a liar.