قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Romance وعن Melodramatic وتضم Male POV وتدور في Cheating

The day I discovered that Esther Mabry was having an affair, my severe depression drove me to the rooftop. It was my older brother, Adam Abernathy, who stabbed her and dragged her back to me so she could atone. Under Adam's watch, Esther truly changed. She deleted every man from her contacts and came home on time every day. Even when she stepped outside to take out the trash, she told me beforehand. I believed our battered marriage had finally been given a fresh start, right up until the day I received a call from myself, 10 years in the future. Looking at the haggard man on the screen, I asked carefully, "Ten years later, and I'm still sick?" He said nothing. He forced a smile that looked more painful than tears, then turned the camera around. On the screen, Esther had Adam pinned against the storage-room wall. Her eyes were filled with anguish she had held back for far too long. "We've lived under the same roof for 10 years, and you won't even let me touch you. How long are you going to keep punishing me?" Adam kept his eyes shut as tears ran down his face. "We did something unforgivable to Hugo. Staying apart is the only way we can atone." I froze, cold to the bone. The man I had searched every corner of Seacliff for and never found had been the brother I loved most all along. Esther had hidden him so well that he lived right under my nose for 10 years, and I never noticed. The camera turned back. The older version of me leaned close to the screen and laughed like a madman. "You heard that? As long as you're still alive, everyone suffers. The moment you die, we're all set free."

After Halle Anderson cheated on me and came back to me, I gave her three chances to cut ties with her lover. She grabbed the opportunity and spent those times with him. They had dinners together, did crafts, and she even spent whole nights with him. After that, she threw everything that was related to her lover away and held my hand again. “Believe me, I’ll never betray you again.” One day, I got into a car accident with an energetic young man. He angrily gave someone a call, and I heard my wife’s best friend’s voice coming through. “Halle, I’m telling you to not go. You’ve used up all three chances. Grant will definitely divorce you if you do so.” Immediately after, I heard Halle say fearlessly, “Grant’s an orphan. He’s been deprived of love his whole life, so he’s even more terrified of divorce than I am. “Just keep this a secret. I know where to draw the line. This is going to be the last time.” I lay in a pool of my blood and felt cold. It turned out that this confident young man standing before me was the lover Halle was protecting. Twenty minutes later, Halle, who had promised to come back to me for good, arrived at the hospital in a rush.

There was a lottery at my wedding with Lumi White, and her best friend Sirius Lynch won our new house. I quickly thought I should refuse, but Lumi agreed to it right away. "Winner's keepers." I fought against my rage, thinking this could wait until the wedding was over. However, as the lottery continued, my best friend Carl Singer won my wedding ring, my brother-in-law won my grandfather's pendant, and Lumi's other best friend won my necktie. They swarmed me, catching me off guard, grabbing and pulling whatever they had won viciously. Skrrrt! My shirt was shredded as I was left standing there while everyone laughed out loud. Even as I crossed my arms to protect my modesty, I turned toward Lumi with a look of distress. However, she was busy swiping through Sirius' photo album on his phone, arguing who had taken the better photos. "See? Just look at Hal's face when I said I was giving you the new house." "No way! Mine's better—the way he crossed his arms looks just like a gorilla! It's so memeworthy!" Hundreds of photos flooded the chat group, all of them laughing at them. I had no idea what was so amusing about my tears and despair, so I turned and looked Lumi in the eye. "This wedding is over."

My wife, Sienna Fairchild, has one ironclad rule. Every Monday, she has dinner with her brother-in-law. During that time, she turns off her phone and blocks every message. Nothing, no matter how urgent, takes priority over their little family gathering. Then one day, our daughter falls down the stairs at preschool and breaks her arm. I call Sienna over a dozen times, but not a single one goes through. With no other option, I call her brother-in-law instead. "Abby got hurt at school. Can you have Sienna come to the hospital?" The other end goes quiet. Just when I think the call has been dropped, Sienna's voice comes through. "My whole day belongs to them. Don't bother me unless it's actually important." The line goes dead. I stand frozen, staring at my daughter crying on the hospital bed. She looks up at me with red, tear-filled eyes. "Daddy, does Mommy not want me anymore?" I choke back the lump in my throat as exhaustion washes over me. Maybe it's time to find my daughter a new mother.

Weeks before our wedding, I discover that my fiancée, Renee Flores, is pregnant with Chad Patterson's child. He's a younger man she met in college. When I see the words "Four weeks pregnant" on the report, I finally give up on her. It turns out our six years together mean nothing compared to a single request from Chad. So I call off the wedding and join a national research facility where all outside contact is prohibited. On our wedding day, Renee arrives at the venue only to find it empty. She falls apart and desperately searches for me.

At the World Rally Championship Final, my fiancee, Brielle Fuller, deliberately gave me the wrong turn call. Because of her, I lost the championship. Right there on the spot, she called off our engagement and ran straight into the arms of my rival, Chase Monroe. Just when I thought I'd lost everything, my childhood friend, Naomi Sutton, proposed to me. "It's okay. To me, you'll always be number one." Seven years later, I rebuilt my career and fought my way back to the top. Just as I was preparing to break Chase's championship record, a brake failure sent my car plunging off a mountainside. While drifting in and out of consciousness at the hospital, I overheard a conversation outside my room. "You're ruthless. You actually did something like this. Weren't you afraid he might die?" "If he dies, so be it. The only person I've ever loved is Chase. I only regret that you married him before I could. Otherwise I wouldn't have had to put myself through that all these years." I stared wide-eyed into the darkness. The love I thought was so deep was nothing more than wishful thinking. If they cared so much about Chase, then maybe I should disappear.

At the bachelor party on the eve of my wedding, everyone starts playing "Never Have I Ever". When it's Zander Carlson's turn, he bluntly declares, "I have a child." Before I can even recover from the shock, my fiancée, Clover Sorrell, chimes in, "So do I." As soon as she finishes speaking, she pushes the penalty drink toward me without batting an eye, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. She goes on, "Since we're already talking about this, I'll be straightforward. Drink up. I slept with Zander. He wanted a child, and as his best friend, I felt I should help him. He, my parents, and everyone else here already know about it. "The child is already three years old. I conceived him around the time your father passed away. As long as you can be mature and let this go, our wedding can still go ahead." The private room falls completely silent. Not a single person looks surprised. Even my best friend, Samson Silva, joins in to smooth things over. "Come on, Ezra. It's only natural. It's just one child. Everyone knew about it. We didn't dare tell you because we were afraid you'd get upset." At last, I understand. They all knew Clover was involved with Zander, and even my closest friend had been keeping it from me. After coming clean, Clover reaches out her hand with an outrageously confident expression. She expects me to swallow my grievances like I always have. But this time, I'm done putting up with it.

My girlfriend, Eloise Harper, sought efficiency in everything. She could barely tolerate anything she considered a waste of time. She decided that our wedding ceremony rehearsal was a waste of time and canceled it. When she found a long line forming at City Hall for marriage registration, she spun on her heel and left at once. On Valentine’s Day, I reserved a table for the two of us at a private restaurant known only to a few people. I arrived early at her company to pick her up. But I accidentally overheard her colleagues gossiping. "Have you heard? Ms. Harper deliberately took the service elevator every day to leave work with Mr. Pierce." In the elevator hall, I was shocked to find Eloise waiting at the back of the line. She was casually discussing work with her secretary, Matthew Pierce. Later, I caught up with them on the first floor. Eloise turned around and greeted me with a displeased frown. The reproach in her voice was obvious. "Andrew, we aren't even married yet. Are you really so desperate to show up here and taint my reputation?" I choked on her groundless accusation and could only shake my head in resignation. She had forbidden me from visiting her at the office, saying she wanted to avoid gossip. Today, I had not wanted to test her patience and risk having her cancel our date as usual, so I rushed all the way to her workplace to pick her up after work. Before I could explain, Matthew put on a panicked expression and chimed in. "I forgot my laptop. I need to go back to the office to pick it up." Then, he turned to Eloise and apologized, "I'm sorry, but it seems I can't drive you home today. You should go with him. No need to wait for me." She held his shoulder, her expression visibly softened. "I'll get it for you. Just get Andrew out of here now." Finally, she walked away and joined the crowd waiting for the elevator. At that moment, realization dawned on me. If she could not even be bothered to maintain our relationship, then we should end it now.

I'd just come off a night shift when the college kid Laura Marano had cheated with planted himself in front of me and begged. "Kyle, please. Let Laura have my baby. She said you're the only one she'll listen to. "I'm not asking for anything else. I never once told her to leave you. "This is my first child. You're a doctor. Doctors are supposed to have a healer's heart. Please, just give our baby a chance to live." While he pleaded, Laura rushed over, breathless. "The affair was on me," she said, guilt written across her face. "So whether this baby stays or goes, that call is yours to make." It was the same scene I'd lived through once before, back when I still believed in loving one person for a lifetime. I hadn't been able to stomach it back then: the girlfriend I'd loved for five years, cheating on me. I'd cut things off clean and never looked back. That decision was what opened my eyes to how the world really worked. The other man who'd stolen my place ended up living like a king, drowning in money. Meanwhile, I'd worked myself half to death in the operating room and still couldn't scrape together enough to treat my mother's illness. I'd come to agree with a bitter little saying: love, in the end, always turns out the same. So this time around, I told Laura something different. "Get rid of the baby. The wedding's still on."

On the day of the court hearing, the judge went through the routine questioning: “You’ve only been married for three years. Has the marriage truly broken down irretrievably?” I bit my lip with a bitter smile, slipped off my wedding ring, and placed it on the table. “In our three years of marriage, we’ve lived apart for every single day. “Your Honor, do you really think there’s any love left between us?” Throughout our five years of dating, I was the one pinned at the top of her chat list. I was her emergency contact. I was even the sole beneficiary of her insurance policy. I thought I had found the right person—the love of my life. But on our wedding day, she took a phone call, and her face turned deathly pale. When I asked what was wrong, she claimed her mother was gravely ill. Dropping everything, she bought a ticket and flew back to her hometown that very day. For the next three years, she sent me daily photos of her meals, yet her mother was never in a single picture. My heart ached for her, so I offered to quit my job and move there to help care for her mother. But she declined gently, saying she couldn’t bear to let me suffer. It wasn’t until a month ago that I stumbled upon a viral vlog channel of a cancer patient. There she was—Amelia Rose Whitmore—appearing right in Austin Carter’s videos, accompanied by a heartwarming caption: “She’s there when I wake up. “She’s there for every meal. “She’s the one whose hand I hold so tightly.” What about me then? For 1,095 days and nights, I had no one but myself. She lied to me. The judge struck the gavel and asked one final question: “Have you truly made up your mind?” I gave a firm, heavy nod. When the official divorce decree was handed down, I stared at the paper as tears finally came streaming down my face. Goodbye, Amelia. I’m setting you free. And I’m setting myself free, too.

Five years after falling into the abyss of depression, I finally felt like a human being again. I was back to talking, laughing, eating on my own, and my wife Stella Anderson and I were even expecting our second child. During our New Year's Eve family dinner, my wife’s godbrother, Lucian Smith, got trashed and started boasting through his alcohol-slurred breath. "Must’ve been five years ago." He smirked. "I was going through a brutal breakup, so I took my car out for a reckless joyride while the street cameras were down for maintenance." Lucian took a slow sip of his drink, his expression turning into a sneer. "You won't believe it. Right as I floored it, this stray cat flew right out of nowhere and slammed into my front bumper. It squealed once and bolted off into the dark." He shook his head in disgust. "Stupid animal ruined my custom wrap and scared the hell out of me. You guys better keep an eye out. Don't end up like Spencer, dragging home bad luck like a damn plague. Makes me sick just thinking about it." Lucian tossed the story out like it was nothing more than a minor, gross inconvenience. Around the table, everyone broke out in chuckles, nodding along and telling him to visit a church or grab a lucky charm so no evil spirits would haunt him. I stood there right in the middle of the noisy crowd. I looked at Lucian’s smirking face, my mother-in-law Camila Anderson's fond, doting eyes, and the tolerant, helpless smile on Stella’s face. The blood drained from my face instantly. It was as if every single one of them had forgotten. My daughter, Evelyn West, died in a hit-and-run five years ago.

I, Wayne Watson, grew up in an orphanage, which made me strong and calm. I never asked others for help, no matter what happened. My girlfriend, Rosetta Walter, always said she admired my independence and ability to solve problems on my own. "Men who run to others for help whenever something happens are the worst." I once believed she truly meant it. That was until the new assistant, Kevin Skyler, at her company called her for the 99th time while crying. "Ms. Walter, the light bulb at my home is broken. It's so dark, and I'm scared." "Don't cry, Kevin. I'm coming right over!" Just like that, Rosetta left without another word. Watching her hurry away, I knew our relationship was over.

The OB-GYN clinic is almost closed for the day when Isaac Howard gets a male patient. He's young and handsome and looks to be in his early 20s. He seems to be a college student. Thinking he's here to start trouble, Isaac frowns. "This is the OB-GYN clinic. What's a college student doing here?" Out of breath, the young man replies, "Doctor, please wait a minute. My wife is on her way. She'll be here soon." "Is that so?" As a professional doctor, Isaac doesn't overthink it. He just asks, "So, what seems to be the problem with the pregnant patient? What's bothering her?" "We kind of went overboard this morning… Picked things up a notch. I was in class this afternoon when she suddenly texted me saying she wasn't feeling well. I was worried, so I skipped class to grab a spot for her." "What's the patient's name?" Isaac looks down to check the intake form. His fingers freeze the second his eyes hit the family section. In the patient name column, it reads, "Julia Gordon." What a coincidence. That's his wife's name, too.

At my wedding reception, one of Patricia Ferguson's friends suggests a party game to liven things up. She keeps the rhythm, then points at me. "What's something you see at a wedding?" I look at Patricia beside me and point to myself, beaming. "The groom." My friend, Gordon Palmer, shoots me a knowing look before saying with a smirk, "A pathetic bed warmer." I freeze. I'm about to demand an explanation when Patricia's older sister, Amelia Ferguson, gives me a pointed look and sneers. "The side piece." As the color drains from my face, Patricia gently pats my head. "The truth is, Marvin and I got married last year. If your mother hadn't begged me to take care of you before she died, I wouldn't even be going through with this wedding. "Brad, I know how much you love me. Don't get all hung up on what you are to me." The moment Patricia finishes speaking, my half-brother, Marvin Sawyer, steps onto the stage holding a marriage certificate. Behind him, the screen lights up with an explicit video of me. It's not censored at all, and the audio is loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Marvin says, "Bradley, your mother was the other woman, and you've followed right in her footsteps. But thanks for throwing yourself at Patricia and keeping her company in bed while I was abroad getting treatment. "All you have to do is get on your knees and beg. Then I'll make it official. I'll let you be Patricia's side piece." My friends exchange mocking glances, smiling as they watch me being humiliated. Turns out every last one of them has known about this, but they've been keeping me in the dark. Their game has reached its grand finale, and I'm the only fool in the room.

As the coaster climbed toward the top, I opened my eyes and reached over for my girlfriend's hand. What I saw was her fingers laced through my best friend's. Her thumb moved slowly across the back of his hand. A signal. Steady. I've got you. "Avery, I'm scared," I said quietly. She didn't answer me. She only held on to him tighter. Avery has a hearing impairment. Her left ear doesn't pick things up clearly. But every time the three of us went anywhere, she kept him on her right, tilting her head up to catch him, answering every single thing he said. I stood on her left, and it was like standing on the other side of a galaxy. The coaster started down again, and I closed my eyes, and my heart dropped with it. Avery, if somebody else is living at the very center of your heart, then so be it. It's time I took my own heart back and went looking for stars of my own.

While I was with a client looking at watches at a luxury boutique, I spotted a Chanel bag sitting on the authentication counter. "You've got a great eye, sir. This bag retails for eleven thousand dollars, and the young lady who brought it in wants to let it go for under three thousand." As the sales associate opened the inner pocket, a hand-drawn dried-flower card slipped out. "May my girl never have another worry." I wasn't seeing things. It was the seventh-anniversary gift I'd given Veronica Hale, with a note in my own handwriting. The sales associate started chatting idly. "A young woman dropped it off the day before yesterday. It's already been authenticated. She said she needed cash fast to buy her younger boyfriend a car." Younger boyfriend? A car? The color drained from my face. I opened the video account of Dylan Kerr, the college intern at her company. In the video, he was holding a slender hand in the passenger seat, their fingers laced together. On the woman's wrist was a clover bracelet. The one I'd fastened there myself three years ago. Fighting back nausea, I swiped my card and bought the bag. "No need to pack the card. Just throw it out."

Late one night, my wife called me, her voice carrying a hint of apology. "Drew, I'm sorry. I cheated." Everyone in our lives knew she loved me more than anything. So how could she possibly cheat? After realizing it was April Fool's Day, I replied with a smile, "I cheated too." She didn't sound surprised at all. Instead, she seemed relieved. "That's good. At least I don't feel as guilty now. "The divorce papers are in the second drawer of the study. Just sign them." I was about to tell her she was putting on a pretty convincing act when the call suddenly ended. Smiling, I opened the drawer and froze. The divorce agreement was real, with her unmistakable signature at the bottom of the final page. My eyes stung as I reached for my phone, about to ask whether this was really some kind of joke, when a message arrived from one of my wife's graduate students. [Mr. Jensen, so it turns out you cheated too. In that case, just step aside already. Then Ms. Jones and I can finally celebrate our first anniversary out in the open!]

Ten seconds before the bomb explodes, I decisively cut the blue wire, saving the lives of hundreds of people inside the building. At the celebration party, Claire Weber, the bomb disposal team captain, gives the credit for the whole operation to the newcomer, Andy Byers. "You're a veteran. Let Andy have the credit for this one so that no one can say I'm playing favorites with you." We've been secretly dating for five years, and she uses the excuse of avoiding suspicion to make me give in to her at every turn. I'm always the one who takes on the most dangerous tasks. Yet every time the praise and glory come around, I'm expected to hand them over to someone else. As I press a hand over my still-bleeding wound, I slip back to the back of the crowd. From a distance, I watch Andy accept the flowers and the medal while the whole city sings his praises on live TV. Halfway through the party, one of our colleagues curiously asks him how he managed to choose the right wire in that life-or-death situation. Andy gazes at Claire with affection, his eyes full of tenderness, and jokes, "What is there to figure out? I just couldn't bring myself to cut the red one because that's Captain Weber's favorite color." The whole room immediately erupts into knowing laughter, and someone even starts chanting for them to kiss. With the mood just right, Claire, who normally keeps her distance from me whenever other people are around, kisses him on the lips in front of everyone. I feel a sharp pang in my chest. Five years of going through life-and-death situations together have made Claire accustomed to the idea that whenever she turns around, I'll still be standing right there. What she's forgotten is that a top bomb tech's cardinal sin is hesitation. And this time, I'll personally defuse the bomb she's become.

Everyone in our circle knew me as Violet Gilman's devoted lapdog of a boyfriend. If she told me to jump into a river, I jumped. If she wanted me kneeling in the rain all night, I knelt through the night. I was so obedient that when she kept a boy toy on the side, I'd even volunteer to bring him condoms. People in our circle praised her for raising such a good lapdog, and sneered at me, certain I'd stoop to anything just to marry into money. But when she brought up marriage herself at a family dinner, I shook my head and turned her down. "I've already done everything there is to do. Marriage, though? That, we can skip."

Mom is hospitalized for 20 days with a serious illness. My girlfriend, Nicole Davis, works as a doctor at the same hospital. Still, she doesn't visit Mom at all. On the first day, Nicole takes time off to help her childhood friend, Kevin Shaw, move. On the second, Kevin starts interning at the hospital, so Nicole spends the entire day showing him the ropes and taking care of every little thing for him. The third day passes, then the fourth. Mom's room is on the 13th floor, while Nicole works on the 17th. They're only four floors apart, which means a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Still, 20 days pass without Nicole ever making it down those four floors. On the day Mom is discharged, I take her to the train station alone. While we're on the way, I finally receive a text from Nicole. "Kevin's dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to take it to the vet first." This time, I finally break my silence. "Okay, got it. Be safe." Then, I smile and add, "And one more thing. We're done."