Cerita Pendek Melodramatic Romance & Novel Male POV Cheating

My wife is a pilot. We had our wedding three years ago, but she's stood me up 18 times since then when we agreed to register our marriage. The first time she stood me up was when her apprentice took his first flight. I waited outside city hall the whole day for her. The second time she stood me up was when she turned around after receiving a call from her apprentice. She left me by the roadside. Later, whenever we set a date to register our marriage, her apprentice would run into all sorts of trouble. Finally, I decided to leave her. But after I board a flight to Avalonia, she chases me all the way there like she's lost her mind.

The risks of my mom's heart transplant surgery are very high. My wife, Wendy Lowell, is known to be a miracle doctor. Everyone advises me to convince her to perform the surgery on Mom. But when I arrive at the hotel Wendy is staying at, I witness her assistant, Hayden Sterling, changing her panties for her. I glare at Wendy angrily. "Wendy, if you agree to perform the surgery on my mom right now, I'll let you off the hook this time!" But Wendy slowly wraps her arms around Hayden's neck right in front of me. "What are you looking at? Are you threatening me?" She picks up her phone on the spot. "Switch off the oxygen machine for Finn's mother right now." My eyes go bloodshot as I grip the door frame tightly. "Wendy Lowell, that's your mother-in-law! Karma will definitely bite you in the ass!" Wendy goes into an outburst as soon as she hears me. "Shut up! If it wasn't for the fact that the hag found out about me and Hayden, our affair wouldn't have gotten leaked to the public! "All I did is turn off your mom's oxygen machine, Finn! I didn't refuse the surgery! Once I've cooled off, I'll go ahead and carry out the surgery!" Then, Wendy orders her bodyguards to throw me out of the hotel. I scramble up to my feet in a wretched manner, though my hands have already balled into fists. Soon, I send a newly drafted text as an unknown number. "Dr. Lowell has suffered from bone fractures all over her body. She's currently at…"

It was the day of our marriage. We were supposed to meet up at the City Hall, but my fiancee stood me up. I waited for her the whole day, and the only answer I got was a picture from her assistant. My girlfriend sat astride on his lap, and her arms were wrapped around his neck while they were locked in a deep kiss. "Sorry, Mr. Terraton. Sophie insisted on comforting me. You don't mind, do you?" I demanded answers from my girlfriend, but that only made her impatient. "He donated his blood to me. Yeah, I was with him, but so what? Man up, will you?" That killed any love I had for her, and I called my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend's sister. "Hey, Sylvie. Yeah, about your proposal. So will you marry me?"

I was the simple-minded fool that General Adelaide Knight had pulled from a pile of corpses on the battlefield. The poison had been too severe. I survived, but my mind never fully recovered. When people hit me or cursed at me, all I ever did was stare blankly and smile. Adelaide took pity on me. She brought me into her home and refused to let anyone mistreat me. She once said, "Reed may be a fool, but he's my whole life." And like a fool, I believed her. For five years, I followed her everywhere like a shadow. Then Fabian Ortega returned to the capital. He looked so much like me that we could almost have been brothers. He'd been poisoned, and none of the doctors knew how to save him. His only chance was to fight poison with poison—using blood drawn from the heart of someone whose body was already saturated with an even deadlier toxin. So Adelaide placed a dagger and an empty bowl in front of me. Her voice had never been gentler. "Be good, Reed. Your body's already full of poison. It's just a small cut over your heart. It won't hurt. Let me take some blood for him. I'll buy you your favorite candy tomorrow, okay?" I stared at the cold gleam of the blade and slowly blinked. The truth was, when the knife pierced my chest, the blood came so fast that I felt so cold. Still, I endured it and forced the same vacant smile onto my face. "Okay." I watched Adelaide pick up the bowl of warm blood and hurry toward Fabian's room. She was in such a rush that she didn't even spare a glance at the bloodstained dagger she'd left lying on the floor. I tossed the cheap candy she'd bought me into the fire and clumsily began packing my things. Since she no longer wanted Reed's life, this poisoned fool had no reason to stay.

A week before the wedding, my fiancée, Gracie Howell, suddenly starts gagging at the sight of food. I figure it's just pre-wedding stress. I bring it up to my younger brother, Luca Norton. He glares at the warm soup on the table and sneers. "Some women claim they're child-free, but they secretly want kids all along! She probably got knocked up behind your back and is gonna pin it on you!" I hand him the bowl with no green onions. "Nonsense. Gracie isn't like that." "The hell she isn't! The other guy could be standing right in front of you, and you'd still be smiling, serving him soup!" He acts all righteous and protective, like a loyal guard dog. I just shake my head and smile. Luca is wild and rebellious, while Gracie is quiet and traditional. They've always rubbed each other the wrong way, clashing every single time they meet. I'm used to it by now. Three days later, I take time off work to decorate our new home, only to find the front door ajar. The familiar bickering drifts out, laced with heavy, breathless panting. "You're about to be a dad, and you're still out doing reckless drag races? Keep it up, and I'll buy a chain to lock you to the bed." Gracie makes an empty threat. Luca scoffs, thrusting his hips with a cocky grin. "Worry about yourself, Gracie. After all, you're carrying my baby, while your dear fiancé thinks you're just stressed out and is dying of concern for you." The white roses slip from my hand and fall to the floor. I stand at the threshold, frozen. Who knew that all their bitter bickering was just a cover for passion? In that moment, the woman who promised to love me until we were a hundred is dead to me.

After I discovered Chelsea Stone’s infidelity, I ended the relationship without giving her a chance. I packed my luggage bit by bit. She watched me, then suddenly said, “Jensen Scott, do you know what was the most boring thing about you?” I paused and turned around. She blew out a puff of smoke and smiled in a flirtatious way. “You were so boring. You did not even know how to sweet‑talk in bed. It was so uninteresting.” I walked away with my things, and I held back my tears. Three years later, I ran into her in the hospital corridor. She wore a white coat, and the medical record book in her hand almost slipped when I bumped into her. Our eyes met. She looked me over, and her tone turned playful. “Oh, is this not my blockhead ex‑boyfriend?” I smiled and did not reply. As I left the hospital, she stepped in front of me and lowered her voice. “Three years have passed. Have you learned how to sweet‑talk in bed?” I raised my hand and showed her my wife’s ultrasound report. “I have, but not to you.”

I spend 20 hours on an economy-class train, traveling 2,000 miles just to see Audrey Collins, my girlfriend. Exhausted and frustrated, I text her to complain. "I'm so tired. My back feels like it's about to break from sitting for so long." She doesn't reply for more than ten minutes. When she finally does, her response is nothing like what I hope for. "And? Do you want me to praise you for it or feel sorry for you? I never forced you to come. You bought the ticket yourself, so don't act as if everyone owes you something." I stare at her words in silence. I'm about to send her a sticker that says, "I missed you," but in the end, I decide against it. Not long after, she sends me a location pin for the airport. "Nathan heard you were coming and booked a last-minute flight so we could all get together. He has a lot of luggage, so I'm going to pick him up first since the airport is on my way. Just take a cab here yourself." Then, she transfers 20 dollars to me to cover the cab fare. What she apparently doesn't consider is that the train station and the airport are at opposite ends of Northbridge, one in the south and the other in the north. Just then, a notification from my special-follow list chimes. Nathan has posted a new update. In the photo, Audrey is pulling Nathan's suitcase while he stands beside her, protectively holding a hand near her waist. He proudly shows off the plane ticket in his hand. "Big thanks to Ms. Collins for sponsoring my first-class ticket! Five stars. Would fly to meet her again!" I zoom in on the photo, staring at the 2,000-dollar ticket. Then, I transfer the 20 dollars Audrey sends me for cab fare right back to her. Struggling to drag my suitcase down the steps, I make my way toward the airport. But this time, I know I'm not going there to see her. I'm going to say goodbye to the version of myself who has always been the one running toward her.

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."

My best friend claimed he couldn't cook, so he bought the apartment across the hall from mine. Whenever I came home from a business trip, my girlfriend would walk him through cooking, step by step. I told her an hour ahead of time that I was hungry. Yet, there was no one waiting for me at the door when I got home. However, my best friend poked his head out when he heard the sound of the door opening, grinning with my apron tied around his waist. "Grayson! I've got a surprise for you! Come on in!" My stomach was growling, so I walked inside. My girlfriend, Gwendolyn Sinclair, hadn't even noticed me. She was looking down, wiping the sweat from his face with the back of her hand. When she finally saw me, she pulled her hand away, set a plate of spicy baked fish in front of me, and held out a fork for me. "Ryder made it. Dig in!" She looked even happier than my best friend. It was obvious she'd forgotten my stomach was bleeding yesterday. I pushed the fish away. "I can't eat this." She set the fork down, her expression tightening with displeasure. "Then, don't! You come home and start giving me attitude as if I owe you something." When she realized she'd been a tad too harsh, she forced herself to soften her expression. "Just wait a little longer… I'll make you something after I finish eating." When I was in an hour-long meeting, she was busy teaching him how to make spicy ground beef stew. When I was showering, she taught him how to make peppery beef soup in those 30 minutes. The water was already boiling hot, and the noodles had turned soggy. Yet, she was nowhere to be found. I took a handful of stomach medication. It didn't ease the pain, but it was still better than nothing. As I took my first bite of instant noodles, I made up my mind. If I couldn't get a hot meal, then it was time for me to stop waiting for one. Also, I was done holding on to a woman I couldn't keep.

The day after Lisa Goodner and I got our marriage license, I, Brad Dempsey, stood at the airport with two plane tickets in hand, waiting for my new wife. She showed up, but her childhood friend, Drew Fenton, was trailing right behind her. "Babe, Drew just went through a breakup, so I'm bringing him along to help him clear his head," Lisa explained carefully. Drew was wearing the exact same T-shirt as me. He gave me an apologetic smile. "Brad, I won't be in your way, will I? I just want to soak up a little of your newlywed happiness." I looked at the third ticket in Lisa's hand, the extra one seated right next to mine. Seat 16B. Mine was 16A. Lisa's was 16C. She had put Drew right between us. I stood rooted to the spot as rage shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head. I yanked Lisa aside and lowered my voice. "Either he leaves, or I do." Lisa looked torn and a little exasperated. "Babe, don't be so unreasonable, okay? "Drew told me he's scared being home alone. He just wants to tag along and have some company. "Besides, I've known him since we were kids. What's the harm in him coming with us..." I cut her off. "If you don't send him away, we're filing for divorce right now."

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."

When my fiancee, Gwen Blanchard, insists on giving birth to a child belonging to her ex-boyfriend of many years, Keith Davila, everyone can't wait to see me object to her decision. But now, Gwen's child is officially one month old, and yet I've never kicked up a ruckus about the whole incident. Instead, I focus on preparing my wedding. Thinking that I've finally accepted my position as her caretaker, Gwen decides to show me sympathy, though she does so in a smug manner. "Since you've already learned your place, I shall attend the wedding and let you become my baby's father in name. I'm giving you a chance to take care of the baby and me." But Gwen seems to be overthinking it. I've only mentioned that I'm going to hold a wedding, but I've never said anything about wanting to marry her at all.

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!]

It was the fourth anniversary of our relationship. Heather Hilmann took her friend Liam Sherr and me went to have barbecue together. The waiter recognized them and smiled, asking, "Still the usuals?" Heather nodded. It was a table by the window for two, and Liam sat on the inside. The ribeye had slightly charred edges, and the dipping sauce had no onions. She gave the first piece and the last piece to Liam. I sat near the aisle, and there was not even a dipping‑sauce dish in front of me. When they paid the bill, the waiter checked the membership records and reminded them with a smile, "Ms. Hilmann and Mr. Sherr, tonight was your 100th visit. You can take your customized grill pan home." A line of words was engraved on the back of the grill pan: [Heather and Liam, Together Forever.] The date was three years ago. I then remembered that Heather had been at the hospital celebrating my birthday that day. It turned out that the two hours she had been away were not for a company meeting. Liam touched the engraving and asked her with a smile, "After you and Ian Jeffrey get married, will we still have our monthly get‑together?"

The day I found out my wife, Madison Anderson, had a secret three-year-old son with someone else, was the day I wired our house with explosives. I was prepared to end it all, with her by my side. Only that night, Madison never came home. I sat hollow and numb until my 10-month-old daughter suddenly called out, "Da-da." That single word shattered my resolve. She breathed life back into me. And so, I grabbed the most expensive car in the garage and sped away, detonating the explosives from beyond the gates. I drove straight to the airport, uncaring of the fiery wreckage that I left behind. From that night forward, the man Havenport had ridiculed as the Anderson family's worthless son-in-law vanished without a trace. Five years later, our paths crossed again at a boutique inn in Bellmont. Madison stared at me as I politely handed her the room key. For a moment, she looked lost. "Travis.... you seem different." I simply smiled and wished them a pleasant stay as a family of three.

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."

When Adrian Cozner went to a get-together with his fiancée and her friends, Lacey Mirren excused herself, saying she had something to take care of. Two hours passed. She still hadn't come back. Just as he was about to get up and look for her, he overheard her close friends mocking him in Portuguese. "This dumbass doesn't even know he's been cheated on." "Right about now, Lacey and Kevin are probably going at it." "Lacey said Adrian isn't as hung as Kevin. They've been childhood sweethearts. This poor idiot—ha, look at him, we're talking crap right in front of him, and he has no idea. So pathetic." Adrian had just started to stand up, but his body froze, his mind going blank. Right then, Lacey pushed through the door, face flushed, completely satisfied, sweat still glistening on her skin. "Haha, how was it? Isn't sneaking around a thrill? You're something else." "Absolutely. Couldn't get enough."

After spending three years in a coma following a car accident, I finally woke up. Ever since then, everyone treated me with caution. They were so afraid of something happening to me again that they'd even worked out a schedule to make sure I was never left alone. Each morning, my younger sister, Jemma Cobb, helped me exercise and regain my strength. In the afternoon, my childhood best friend, Kian Mason, kept me entertained with video games. My parents cooked huge dinners to help me recover, while my girlfriend, Elsie Reid, picked me up afterward and drove me home. One night, as Elsie and I lay in bed, I wrapped my arms around her and laughed. "You guys don't have to worry about me so much. I'm a grown man, you know. I promise I'll take good care of myself." But Elsie shook her head, her expression unusually serious. "Kellan, you mean everything to us. We can't bear the thought of losing you again." Her words made me emotional. After everything I'd been through, I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have so many people who loved and cared about me. At least, that was what I thought until the day I accidentally discovered a group chat on Kian's phone. Everyone was involved—my parents, my sister, my best friend, and even my girlfriend. Everyone but me. The group was called "Save Elsie's Love Life." The latest message was from Kian. "Kellan and I just got to the arcade. You're good to bring Jude home now." Confused, I scrolled up and found a message from my sister. Jemma said, "I've got Kellan at the park near our neighborhood. Elsie, don't bring Jude here for breakfast today." Then, I saw one from my parents. "Kellan's finished dinner. Drop Jude off first, then come pick him up." My fingers went numb as I stared at the screen. I tapped on the profile picture of the group member named Jude Johnston, and my blood ran cold. I recognized him immediately. He was the man responsible for the accident that had left me in a coma for three years. Now, he was dating my girlfriend. Worse still, everyone I'd trusted—everyone who'd claimed to love and protect me—had been helping them keep their relationship a secret all along.

I didn't come from money, so everyone around my rich girlfriend decided I had to be a gold digger. Nobody more than Tristan Reed, her male best friend. He told them he'd been kept by rich women himself, so he understood men like me better than anyone. To prove I wasn't that kind of man, I never accepted a single expensive gift from Vivian Ford during the three years I spent with her. Tristan had an explanation for that too. "He says no out loud, but he's waiting for her to offer something better on her own. It's called playing hard-to-get." Then came Vivian's birthday. I'd saved six months of my salary and bought her a necklace. I was almost at the door of the private room when I heard Tristan laughing. "See? I told you he'd buy something expensive. "That's the oldest trick a gold digger has. Pretend you're not after the money, then trade a little of it for a lot." Vivian sat beside him filing her nails. She didn't contradict him. Someone egged him on. "Vivian, your boyfriend's not just a gold digger, he's a professional." Then somebody spotted me and made a hushing gesture. "Quiet, he's here." Tristan just scoffed. "Some men ought to be honest like me. That's what rich women actually want. Am I wrong?" Vivian was quiet for a long moment. Then she looked up at me. "After all this time pretending in front of me, were you really just waiting for one big payout?" I stood in the doorway, and the necklace in my hand suddenly felt too heavy to hold. I didn't answer. I just turned around and left. A heart that's doubted every single time is one I'm taking back for good.

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.