Melodramatic Romance Short Stories & Male POV Cheating Novels

My wife, Ivy Hart, is about to give birth to the baby she conceived with Toby Clayton, her first love. Her parents hire ten bodyguards to stand guard outside the delivery room. Cora Norris, Ivy's mother, takes Ivy's hand and remarks, "Don't worry, Ivy. We'll make sure he can't get within two feet of you! Your dad is standing guard outside with the bodyguards. If he dares to stop you from having the baby, we'll report him to the police!" Ivy nods, her complexion pale, but she instinctively looks toward the door anyway. She doesn't see why I can't be more understanding of her. All she wants to do is help Toby have a child to carry on his family name. The birth proceeds without me showing up to cause a scene. She smiles gladly when she sees the crying baby in the nurse's arms. She thinks to herself that if I visit her tomorrow, she is willing to forget all about our previous fights. She is even willing to let me be the baby's father. What she doesn't know is that I've already submitted my application to the Alliance of Nations. In seven days, I will be leaving the country to become a field doctor for the Frontline Medical Corp, a humanitarian organization. I won't be coming back ever again.

Six weeks before their wedding, Marielle Rousseau tells Dorian Halberg she wants to have another man's baby. When he refuses, she brings it up day after day. Fifteen days before the ceremony, Dorian finds her pregnancy report. She's already nearly a month along. She never intended to wait for his consent. In that moment, the love he's carried for years begins to disappear. Dorian cancels the wedding, destroys the keepsakes of their relationship, and on what should have been his wedding day, walks into a high-security research facility that cuts him off from the outside world. From then on, Marielle has no place in his life.

I have a habit. Whenever I eat, watch a movie, or ride the bus, I will always save an empty seat next to me. I believe that Cindy Newman will one day show up in my city and surprise me. But we've been in a long-distance relationship for three years, and not once has she ever visited me. In the end, I have no choice but to handle all the wedding preparations on my own. I try on countless suits to find the one. I look everywhere for the perfect venue. The exhaustion ultimately catches up to me. With trembling fingers, I text Cindy, "I'm running a 102-degree fever. No meds at home." It takes her 30 minutes to reply to me, "So? What do you want me to do? Learn how to fly and deliver you meds? I'm busy going over a proposal. Just order it online and have it delivered to your place." My high fever is so intense that I can barely lift a finger. Amid the haziness, I pass out. When I wake up, I see my best friend, Eugene Grant, by my side. He sighs and feeds me warm water and a tablet. "She's just taking advantage of the fact you're too kind to say anything. If I were you, I would've blown up already." Two weeks later, Eugene also comes down with a high fever. I've planned to rush over and take care of him, but I see his latest post online. The photo shows only a woman's hand holding a spoon. The caption reads, "The weather is getting colder, and I've unfortunately come down with a cold. Thank goodness for a superwoman who travels over 500 miles to deliver me soup." I know what I'm seeing. It's Cindy's hand. On Cindy's wrist is the bracelet I've spent six months saving up to buy for her. At long last, it dawns on me that the empty seat remains empty not because she can't make it, but because she simply doesn't want to. In that case, I'll stop saving a seat for a person who will never come.

My girlfriend, Loretta Summers, is an introvert and quiet by nature. Even our daily conversations are limited to things like, "Have you eaten?" or "Are you asleep?" Then, at a New Year's class reunion, I see her chatting animatedly with a guy, Ivan Lane. That is when I realize— it is time for us to break up.

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.

I was in the middle of revising my girlfriend, Gina Sullivan's doctoral dissertation, when I received her wedding invitation. In the acknowledgments, she thanked me as her brother. The next second, I received a voice message from her. "Ian, Mike and I are getting married so that it will be easier for his dad to arrange a faculty position for me. "Don't be upset. We've been together for seven years. Of all people, you should understand why I'm doing this." I stared at the screen, and my fingers stopped moving. I had paid her tuition for seven years. I even wrote her dissertation for her. She had promised that once she graduated, she would marry me. Now, she was about to graduate, but I wasn't the groom anymore. Our mutual friends immediately started chiming in in the group chat. [Come on, Ian. Be the bigger person. Gina didn't have it easy getting this far.] [The Fletcher family can give her opportunities you can't.] [You're a man. Don't sweat the small stuff. If you truly love her, you'll let her go.] That evening, Gina called again. "You have to come to our wedding. "I don't have any siblings, and Mrs. Jefferson already agreed to represent my family. "Besides, I'll only feel at ease if you're standing beside me." So, it wasn't that she was afraid I'd be heartbroken. She was simply certain that I loved her enough to forgo not only my dignity, but even my own mother, to make her wedding look respectable.

“Do you take this woman to be your wife? For richer or poorer, in sickness and health, will you remain faithful to her for the rest of your life?” I looked at Bridget with deep affection and was just about to speak. “Wait!” shouted someone urgently. I turned around in confusion and looked toward the audience. There stood a man holding a baby in his arms. He said pleadingly, “Bridget, our child is hungry… could we pause the wedding for a moment?” Hearing this, everyone erupted in an uproar. It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me. Only then did I realize that Bridget had a child with another man. Bridget hurried off the stage, then turned to me coldly and said, “I only agreed to marry you out of obligation. But the moment Vernon appeared, I knew it. There’s no one else I want to marry but him.” So, she took off the ring and dragged the man away without looking back. I stood alone at the end of the aisle and clutched the undelivered ring in my hand, as a flood of bitterness crashed through every corner of my heart.

In Willow Creek, there is an unspoken rule about wedding processions: never retrace your route. But on the day we are supposed to get married, my fiancee, Emma Carter, orders our entire wedding procession to turn around and drive more than 12 miles back the way we've come—just to catch up with another wedding convoy. I am about to get out and demand an explanation when I overhear Emma talking to one of her bridesmaids, Lena Williams. "You drove more than 60 miles just to make it to Ryan's wedding," Lena says. "That's some serious dedication." Then she glances nervously in my direction. "And now you're making us turn around? Aren't you worried Nathan's going to be pissed?" Emma continues directing the drivers to turn the procession around. "Don't worry. He's waited ten years for me. No matter how angry he gets, he'll never actually call off the wedding. "If my family hadn't pressured me so much, I wouldn't have agreed to marry him this easily. "Ryan's biggest wish has always been to marry me, and that's not going to happen now. So turning back to see him off for part of the journey is the least I can do. It's a small way of making up for all those years he spent chasing after me." When the matching wedding bands slip from my hand and disappear beneath the seat, I let out a bitter laugh. So much for finally getting our happy ending after all those years of hardship. Apparently, that is only wishful thinking on my part. I pull out my phone, open my messaging app, and send a woman my location. "Are you still planning to marry me? I'm waiting for you here. Come. Now."

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.

After five years together, Abby Young finally said she was ready to take me home to meet her parents. However, on the day of the visit, she asked my friend Gene Burke to pretend to be her boyfriend and told me to tag along for the free meal. “Abby, I’m your boyfriend! You’re supposed to introduce me to your parents today!” She did not even look up. “Gene just went through a breakup last month. He wants to know what it feels like to meet a girlfriend’s parents, so let him have this one.” I refused to move. Gene sighed. “Forget it. I was only joking. You two should go.” He started to get out of the car, but Abby held him back. “Stay where you are. You’re not going anywhere.” Then, she pulled me into the car and said to me in a persuasive tone, “Tony, it’s only one dinner. I’ll explain everything to my parents after this. Just this once.” Left with no real choice, I reluctantly agreed. When we arrived at her parents’ house, Mr. Young’s face lit up the moment he saw Gene. “Gene, you’re here! Come in! We’ve been looking forward to seeing you. I even made that dessert you love!” Abby went inside with a smile, leaving me alone on the doorstep as though I did not belong there. I turned to her. “How do your parents know Gene?” Abby rubbed her nose, looking guilty. “Actually, this is the third time I’ve brought him home. I was worried about him after his breakup, so I’ve been passing him off as my boyfriend whenever we visit my parents.” I laughed in disbelief. I threw everything I was holding at her feet and turned to leave. “You can enjoy your little family dinner without me.”

There were only three of us in the group chat, yet somehow, I was always the one left out. At first, I didn't think much of it. Life was busy at times, right? Besides, Kendra Thatcher had been my girlfriend for seven years, and Josiah Lehmann had been my best friend for eighteen. The thought of either of them deliberately ignoring me had never even crossed my mind. Or at least, that was what I kept telling myself. That morning, I messaged our group chat. "Hey, how about we take a trip to Cedarvale?" Neither of them replied. Hours passed, and my message just sat there, unanswered. … That evening, Josiah suddenly shared a video of some delicious-looking food in Cedarvale. "Gosh, it looks divine!" he wrote. Kendra replied almost immediately. Just like that, they started chatting away as though my earlier message never existed. Before long, they'd exchanged over ninety-nine messages. Seeing them so excited, I figured I'd try asking again. "So, are we going to Cedarvale or what?" The chat went quiet, and neither of them replied. Something about that bothered me more than usual, so I started scrolling through our old messages. The further back I went, the more I realized this wasn't anything new. Just yesterday, I'd mentioned that I was thinking about quitting my job because I was completely burned out. Neither of them had said a word. But the day before that, Josiah had posted a shirtless gym selfie, complaining that all his hard work wasn't paying off. "Oh, shut up. Those abs are ridiculously hot," Kendra had replied. They went back and forth until midnight, yet the moment I suggested we all grab dinner the next day, the conversation stopped. The funny thing was, I actually ran into them at a restaurant the following evening. They were having dinner together. Then, there was the movie Kendra had mentioned last week. She'd shared the trailer in the group, and Josiah immediately said he wanted to watch it. I chimed in, telling them I'd love to go too. Again, neither of them responded. … A few days later, I casually asked Kendra about the movie. "Oh, Josiah and I already watched it," she replied, acting like it was no big deal. Looking back through our conversations, I couldn't believe how many times I'd made excuses for them. I'd told myself they were busy, that they'd forgotten to reply, and that I was probably overthinking things. But now, it was painfully obvious. They weren't too busy to reply. They just didn't want to respond to my texts. I stared at the screen for a long moment before muting the group chat. I didn't leave, confront them, or send a long message demanding to know what I'd done wrong. I was simply exhausted from always being the one trying to hold everything together. … A few days later, I finally quit my job. That same day, my phone lit up with a notification from the group chat. For once, someone was actually talking to me. It was Kendra. "Xavier, my mom keeps asking when we're getting married. Josiah's worried about you, too. Why aren't you answering?" By the time I saw her message, my plane had already landed in Dunridge. I opened the group chat and typed, "You two seem to have plenty to talk about. I shan't interrupt." Then, I sent another text. "Cheers to being single!"

Three years after I died, Stella, my wife, decided to divorce me and marry her dying ex. She stormed into my old house like she owned the place, forcing me to sign the divorce agreement. Mom told her the truth—I was already gone. Stella rolled her eyes. "Why's he still pretending? Harvey's dying. I just wanna be there for him. What's so wrong about that? If he won't come out, I'm done paying your medical bills." She thought threatening Mom would shake something loose. But what Stella didn't get? Mom had already stopped treatment. She was just hanging on to watch her crack.

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

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.

For seven years, my CEO girlfriend never once came home with me to see my parents. She told me that she hated social obligations, and that she didn't want to deal with the gossip and hassle that came with meeting my parents and relatives. Even in daily life, she treated me with cold professionalism, never spending any anniversaries with me in favor of working overtime. I'd always thought that it was just a simple matter of her being too rational and prideful, and I was fine with slowly teaching her how to nurture a relationship. That was, until Thanksgiving arrived. Once again, she stressed that holidays were just a capitalistic norm, and that she was going to work overtime instead of coming home with me. By chance, however, I accidentally stumbled upon my intern's social media. Inside a private room at a five-star hotel, he and his family sat at a table as my girlfriend sat beside him, carefully serving him food. [Yo, my boss secretly brought my parents into the city for Thanksgiving, and even gave me gifts! She told me that I was worth special gestures, too. Where can you even find a boss this romantic? My parents even told me to marry her as soon as I could! LOL!] So she knew better than anyone how to make people feel cherished. I just wasn't worth any of it. I commented: [How romantic.] Then, I messaged my girlfriend. [Let's break up.]

For the 37th time, Jonah Bellamy calls me to ask if he can borrow my wife, Celeste Rochester, for a day. His daughter, Iris Bellamy, is having a Family Day at school. Since all the other children have their mothers accompanying them, he doesn't want his daughter to be made fun of. Celeste takes one look at me before grabbing her coat and rushing out the door. Before crossing the threshold, she leaves me with her go-to excuse. "He's divorced and raising his daughter on his own. It must be hard for him. So, don't be so petty." However, that day is also the day our son, Kevin Heathcliff, has been looking forward to for three whole months—his parent-child performance. He sits backstage, clutching his costume, waiting for Celeste to arrive. Even after the event ends, she never shows up. When we get home, we see Celeste on a live broadcast on TV. She's wearing matching outfits with Jonah and Iris, and she lets him drape an arm affectionately around her shoulders. When the host asks how many years they've been married, she doesn't clarify. She simply looks up and adjusts his collar, her eyes overflowing with affection. Iris wraps her arms around Celeste's waist and loudly calls her "Mommy". The camera pans across the audience as applause and hoots erupt from all directions. Kevin stares at the screen quietly for a long while before tearing the drawing of our family of three in his arms in half. "Mommy's always being borrowed by other people, Daddy. From now on, let's stop waiting for her, okay?" I look into his teary eyes, and the last ember of hope in my heart completely dies out. I pull out my phone and send a message to my lawyer, Everett Preston. "Draw up the divorce agreement."

Jocelyn Nicols was celebrated as the police department's genius detective. I'd spent ten quiet years at her side as her assistant, unnoticed by anyone. By her eighth year on the force, she still hadn't cracked the decade-old cold case that had haunted her career. "You know the rule," she told me. "I won't marry until this case is solved." I didn't say anything back. I just packed her bags for another out-of-town assignment and wished her a safe trip. What she didn't know was that the moment she finally cracked the case and became a household name across the country, I'd just received a notice from the hospital. It told me I was going to die.

Just before the end of my shift, the last patient I see is my wife, Tracy Montgomery. Her prenatal test report clearly states that she is three weeks pregnant. She is the mother, and the father is her lover of five years, Max Lockwood. Calmly, I slide the report across the desk and say softly, "Congratulations. You finally got what you wanted." Tracy pauses for a moment before frowning hard. "That's it? Are you just congratulating me? Don't you have anything else to say?" I stare at the piece of paper and at the child who isn't mine. I initially think I would react the way I always do, which entails throwing away my pride and causing a huge scene in front of her. But in the end, I don't even have the strength for that anymore. Her fingertips brush gently across her stomach as she says, "I've had my fun over the years. Once the baby is born, I'll settle down." Hearing those words, I lift my head and meet her eyes. I say evenly, "Tracy, our contract has expired."

At the dinner table, my wife's best friend suddenly speaks to her in Lytian. "Three years ago, you married Julian in a grand wedding just to help Jace get Julian's letter of forgiveness. Over the years, I've seen Julian fall more and more deeply in love with you. Yet, you're still lying to him. "You gave him sterilization pills but passed them off as his depression medication. Aren't you afraid that he'll fall apart if he finds out the truth?" My wife, Erica Inman, briefly shows a conflicted expression on her face. She then gives a bitter smile and says, "A child unwanted by their mother has no reason to be born. As long as Julian doesn't stand in the way of Jace's happiness, I will keep my promise and stay by his side for the rest of his life." No one knows that I've learned Lytian to keep up with Erica. I stand in the living room and look at the fresh kiss mark on my neck. As I glance at the medication I take regularly for my depression, my whole body turns cold. It turns out that all of Erica's affection toward me was fake. What I thought was my salvation turns out to be nothing but a carefully planned deception. Since that's the case, I'll do my part to make sure they all get what they want.

Ever since I was a child, I could enter the dreams of the people closest to me. However, I could only do it three times in my entire life. I used my first chance when I was ten. In my father's dream, I saw him holding another woman and telling her he had fallen out of love with my mother long ago. Heartbroken, I ran to tell my mother everything. Three months later, they divorced, and I moved in with her. I used my second chance at sixteen. In the dream, a wealthy man held my mother's hand and promised to marry her. He had only one condition: she could not bring along her unwanted baggage. He was referring to me. The next day, my mother left me $30,000 and disappeared without a trace. Two dreams. Two losses. Both times, I had lost someone I loved the most. After that, I swore I would never use my final chance, not even if it killed me. Fortunately, I met Jade Smith in college. We had dated for ten years and been married for five. I thought we knew each other better than anyone else in the world. Recently, she had been sleeping poorly. She kept her phone glued to her hand and often looked at me as if she wanted to say something but could never bring herself to. I wondered if something had gone wrong at her company. I was also worried that she might be sick. On our wedding anniversary, I finally gave in and used my last chance to enter her dream. However, I saw no signs of bankruptcy or a terminal illness. Only one person appeared in her dream: the new intern at her company. When he worked late, she braved the rain to bring him an umbrella. When he had a stomachache, she searched half the city for medicine. When he casually mentioned wanting to see the ocean, she took him there countless times. In her dream, he asked her, "If you weren't married, do you think you could ever fall for me?" She remained silent for a long time before finally nodding, her voice thick with tears. I jolted awake, my eyes wet and cold. That was what my three chances had been for. Three dreams, three people I loved, and three times I was destined to lose them. Only this time, I would not wait for her to walk away from me. I would be the one to leave first.