قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Romance وعن Plot Twists وتضم Male POV وتدور في Marriage

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife, Nina Sable, drops a bombshell on me. She secretly aborts the child we have tried for three years to conceive, just so she can give her childhood friend, Mike Reed, a son to carry on his family line. When I confront her about it, she calls me out for being petty and heartless. "Mike is the only son in his family. He refuses to marry anyone else because of me. What's wrong with me giving him a child?" My dad, Matt Smith, suffers a heart attack from the shock and dies. My mom, Caroline Dunn, can't take the blow and loses her mind. She falls from the balcony, leaving her in a coma. Desperate to get pregnant as soon as possible, Nina fools around with Mike even on the day of Dad's funeral. And she posts about it on social media. "You stayed faithful to me, so I'll carry on your family line. We may not be meant to be in this life, but let's meet again in the next." I smirk and leave a comment underneath. "How are you not meant to be? I'll make sure you two get what you want right now."

At our wedding, my wife finally appeared. But instead of a wedding dress, she arrived dressed entirely in mourning clothes, a black mourning veil covering her face. The entire venue erupted in shock. Some guests openly reveled in my humiliation, while others sneered and mocked me. I suppressed a level of anger I had never felt before and confronted her. "What's this supposed to mean? Do you really have to humiliate me on the most important day of our lives?" Instead of showing any remorse, she screamed back, "It's only been seven days since Grant died! I grew up with him. Am I not allowed to mourn him still? If you don't want to go through with this wedding, then don't! No one's forcing you!" I stared at her in silence. Then I slowly removed my wedding ring. Without another word, I tossed it onto the floor. Fine. Let this be their funeral wedding.

My girlfriend, Madison Carter, claims that men's hearts will rot when they start gaining wealth. Out of love toward her, I give her all of my money. But on my birthday, my severe illness has relapsed due to me not bearing to spend money on medication. So, I can only borrow money from Madison, who's also a CEO. But she begins berating me without asking me the reason why. "You really are an ingrate! I've been sustaining you for so long, and yet you never pledge your loyalty toward me! All you care about is money!" Naturally, Madison refuses to lend me even a single cent. But the next day, she doesn't hesitate to give her first love, Lucas Whitfield, a few million dollars just so he can start a business of his own. I feel my blood turn into ice as I stare at the woman I've loved for ten years. Only now do I realize that she has never loved me before.

My CEO wife, Emily Stewart, loved using her money to humiliate her ex-boyfriend, Ivan Perkins. On the day her company was listed, Emily made a rare public move by openly announcing our relationship and even getting Ivan to toast me. She even rewarded me with 10% of the company's shares. Ivan could not stand to be humiliated. He said unhappily before leaving, "Why must you do this to me, Emily? You know I want you, not your fame and fortune." When Emily went after him and brought him back, she gave Ivan my company shares and my position at work, saying she could not go back on her promise. When I asked her for a mere $5 to get some painkillers, she would suspect me of being a gold-digger who only wanted her money. Thus, I did not make a fuss and gave Ivan everything I had. Emily was happy about it. "I knew you were different. You never wanted me for my money. “Don't worry! Once I have my fun with him, I'll give you a grand wedding." She had no idea that I was tired of watching her play games with Ivan, and I no longer wanted to be a part of it.

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

My wife and I were both messed up in our own ways. I was possessive, while she liked seeing me get angry. She said emotions were proof of love. If you loved someone, you would get angry. Just to see me lose my temper, she deliberately went against me at every turn. I hated her staying in contact with her first love, Chris, yet she arranged for him to work under her. I repeatedly warned her not to meet him in private, but she still went on dates with him and even made a point of telling me about them. I hated the smell of cigarette smoke on Chris, so she brought him home to stay for a week and made me smell cigarette smoke every single day. I completely lost my temper and, for the first time, threatened to leave home. Nicole panicked. To win me back, she stood outside in the pouring rain all night. She probably apologized to me ten thousand times, and only then did I forgive her. I warned her that she wasn't allowed to pull anything like that again, or I would never forgive her. But on the day of the family gathering, she still brought Chris with her. She introduced him to my parents without the slightest hesitation. "This is my ex-boyfriend, Chris. From now on, the three of us are going to live together. Honey, isn't that right?" Nicole looked at me expectantly. She was waiting for me to get angry and lose my temper again. She wanted the intensity of my reaction to prove just how deeply I loved her. But this time, I saw my parents' faces turn red with anger. I also saw my in-laws smiling from ear to ear. Suddenly, I felt neither anger nor affection toward her. Right there and then, I scheduled a divorce appointment and calmly told her, "That won't be necessary. Three people in one relationship is too restrictive. Let's get divorced. You can be with him."

The first thing I do after regaining my memories and finding my family is share the good news with my wife, Christine Blackwell. However, I discover that the woman who has shared my bed for three years is already someone else's wife. The marriage certificate she registered with me three years ago is a forgery. The real marriage certificate is the one she secretly registered with Edison Whitman, the factory director's son. She tells me that Edison comes from a far better background. As a distant relative of the Carrington family in Regalton, he can provide opportunities that I never could. She tells me to stop making a scene. What she doesn't know is that the Carrington family in Regalton which she speaks of… is actually my family.

After my daughter was admitted to the ICU for liver failure, the doctor said she had at most seven days to live. My wife, Jessica Holland, grabbed my hand tightly. "Kevin, Tanya can still be saved!" The doctor handed me the organ donation consent form, but I didn't take it. Instead, I pulled out three documents and laid them in front of Jessica. "Sign these, and I'll donate." She glanced down and completely froze. The first was a divorce agreement, the second was a waiver of joint assets, and the third was a share transfer agreement. Jessica held a 12% stake in Eterspring Pharmaceutical. She earned that by building the business with me for eight years. I wanted her to transfer every single share to me. "Are you out of your mind?!" My mother rushed up and slapped me. She looked at me in disbelief. "Tanya's in there, fighting for her life, but you're using her to force your wife to divorce you without taking any assets?" I pushed the pen toward Jessica. "Once all the paperwork is done, I'll do the surgery immediately. All three documents must be signed." Jessica grabbed the divorce agreement and threw it in my face. I walked out without looking back.

I am the most famous weather presenter in the city, yet somehow, I have never gotten a single forecast right. Over time, everyone catches on. In Haddon, the weather depends entirely on the mood of Shelly Fuller's lover. One moment, I'm on air forecasting moderate to heavy snowfall, and the next, the clouds clear and the sky turns sunny. My boss openly mocks me in front of everyone. "You used to be the station's number one presenter. Looks like you're not so useful anymore. Your wife is spending money to manipulate the weather, so what's the point of you even doing the forecast?" A colleague beside him adds, "I heard your wife's new lover hates the cold. Looks like Haddon won't be seeing snow for the next six months. At this rate, you'll be drowned in disciplinary notices." I clutch more than a dozen disciplinary notices without saying anything. Back home, I toss them at Shelly expressionlessly. "Clean up your own mess. Choose someone else to be the man of the Fuller family."

I woke up in the middle of the night to find my wife crying and begging me to let her see that young man one last time. "I’ll come right back after seeing him one last time. Please, I’m begging you." In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me in such a pleading, ingratiating tone. The last time was when I caught the kid running out of her office, his clothes in disarray. Afraid I’d make a scene, she grabbed my hand and pleaded, "Honey, I promise I’ll cut him off. Please don’t divorce me. I’ll die without you." So, I gave her another chance. Just as she promised, she devoted herself to our family, becoming the perfect wife everyone admired. Until today. I turned on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and told her seriously, "Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets." I had no regrets left. I hoped the same for you.

"Mr. Rogers, are you sure you want to do this? Noelle is only five—" I cut the lawyer off and signed my name on the authorization form. "I am." Outside the window, rain poured down in sheets. I looked up at the office building across the street. Behind the floor-to-ceiling windows on the thirty-seventh floor, Rachel Lloyd, the president of Lloyd Group, was in a meeting. She wore a perfectly tailored white suit, her expression icy and composed. Every gesture carried the commanding presence of the queen of the business world. No one knew that this woman was my wife, at least in the eyes of the law. Even fewer people knew that we had a five-year-old daughter. It had been three years. For all three of those years, I had worked as an ordinary driver for her company, driving her to and from work every day. "Mr. Rogers, turn left. Mr. Rogers, stop here." That was all I ever heard from her. She never gave me so much as a second glance when other people were around, as if we truly were nothing more than an employer and her driver. Noelle had learned to call me ‘Dad’ when she was two, but she had never dared call Rachel ‘Mom’. Rachel had made one thing very clear. "Don't let me hear you calling me that in public." Noelle had been a good girl. She never called her Mom again. However, I knew what happened every night. She would curl up in bed, clutching the one stuffed doll Rachel had ever bought for her, and whisper into the darkness, "Goodnight, Mommy. You looked so pretty today. Will you come see me tomorrow?" Rachel had bought that doll three years ago at a convenience store on a whim. It had cost her only $29.90. To Noelle, however, it was priceless. She had held on to it like a treasure for three long years.

Out of sheer boredom, I randomly clicked into a livestream titled "Taming an Innocent Housewife." In the stream, a woman in a silk chemise was lazily puttering around the kitchen. When the camera finally showed her face, I was completely stunned—it was me. Not only that, but on the public chat, the top donor was spamming gifts like crazy. [Make her drink that spiked milk.] Soon after, a man groveled in response: [Thanks for the gift, bro. She'll drink it right now. I promise you a hell of a show tonight.] I'd recognize that voice anywhere—it was my husband, Jake, who was supposedly on a business trip overseas. My own husband had turned our home into a hidden-camera setup, treating me like his personal reality show star. And now, he was trying to feed me illegal drugs just to rake in donations. Most people would've broken down or called the cops. But I'm what you'd call the ultimate pro at playing nice—everyone in our circle knows I'm the queen of manipulation. I picked up that glass of milk, looked straight into the camera, and gave a fragile, tantalizing smile. "Since my husband's not home, drinking this milk all alone feels so lonely... I wish some strong, capable guy would come take care of me." The chat exploded. Donations went through the roof. Later that night, Jake burst through the front door, ready to "discipline" me—but froze in his tracks. There I was, sitting in lingerie on the lap of the top donor, grinning at my husband. "Honey, you're back! I helped you hit your goals tonight!"

When the ship went down, my wife and I were both thrown into the freezing water. Her whole body was underwater, but she used every ounce of strength she had left to hold me above the surface. Watching her lips turn blue and her face go pale, I knew her life was slipping away fast. "Let me go," I sobbed. "I want to die with you." She held on even tighter. "Gideon, hang on a little longer. Help is coming. I need you to live." I was crying so hard I could barely get the words out. "What's the point of living if you're gone?" "Help is almost here," she said weakly. "Once you're safe, tell Elliot... the baby I'm carrying is actually his..." It hit me like a bolt of lightning. Elliot was my best friend. His wife did classified aerospace research, so I'd never even met her. Never in a million years did I imagine the baby my wife was carrying wasn't mine. It was his...

On the day of the wedding, my fiancee, Bianca Newton, approached me with a bright smile, handing me a glass of wine. I drank it down in one gulp. Suddenly, her male best friend, Xander Lynch, raised his phone and burst out laughing. "See! I told you this idiot wouldn't even notice that it was my piss! Pay up, everyone! Don't forget to follow my account! Pay up!" I started puking uncontrollably, but Bianca merely looked at me with disgust. I demanded that Xander apologize, yet Bianca placed herself in front of him and stopped me. "It was just a joke! Why are you taking it so seriously?" At the same time, Xander said smugly, "Come on, say hello to the views in my livestream! Tell them how it feels to drink piss!" I smashed a wine bottle right on his head. Bianca demanded that I kneel and apologize to him. Then, she hurriedly escorted Xander to the hospital, still in her wedding gown. Looking at the wedding venue in utter chaos, I calmly took my phone out and dialed a number. "Are you interested in marrying me?"

The border crackdown finally comes to an end. The police finally capture the notorious Roxanne Thorne, who has made headlines across the country. In the interrogation room, Jordyn Croft sits across from her in a police uniform, repeatedly asking the same question. "Where is that traitor, Christopher Savile, hiding now?" Roxanne slowly raises her eyes, her slender fingertips gently rubbing the edge of her handcuffs. "That young cop? We tied him to a metal frame and took turns beating him. Then we injected him with highly concentrated drugs before using blunt weapons to smash his knees and ankles piece by piece. Finally, we chained him to the barbed-wire fence at the border." She licks her lips, as if savoring the memory. "By dawn, his body was already stiff." Jordyn stands up and slams the files onto the table. "You're lying! He was the one who leaked the information back then and got more than a dozen of our officers killed. He even covered your retreat through the back mountain. The surveillance footage captured everything clearly!" Roxanne suddenly bursts into laughter. Her handcuffs clang loudly against the table. She says, "Christopher never gave us a single useful piece of information until the end. Instead, it was a hostage he'd previously rescued from us who kept feeding us information. His only condition was that we take Christopher away and make everyone believe he was a traitor. "That way, he could conveniently take Christopher's wife for himself." The entire room falls silent. Just then, the interrogation room door flies open. Jordyn's newlywed husband, Milo Lumley, rushes in, his voice urgent. "Jordyn, did you catch the suspect? Did they tell you where Chris is?"

My fiancée, Summer Walker, and I were supposed to spend our honeymoon on a tropical island. Instead, she brought my two best friends along. I didn't think much of it, so I joined them for a game of Truth or Dare. After several rounds and several drinks, I was starting to feel tipsy. Adam Lewis and Joseph Thompson laughed and teased me for being such a lightweight. Then the bottle landed on my fiancée. Summer chose Truth. One of my friends asked, "What's your biggest secret?" She lowered her head, a blush slowly spreading across her face as her hand instinctively moved to cover her belly. I was about to smooth things over when both men rushed to offer to drink for her. Neither was willing to back down. Finally, Summer spoke. "I'm pregnant." Excitement surged through me, and I leaned in to kiss her. Then I noticed something was wrong. One man had clenched his knee so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. The other's fingers were trembling. They spoke at the exact same time. "Whose is it?" I froze. Summer lifted her head, her gaze darting between them. "I don't know." One of them ordered the driver to pull over. The moment the motorhome stopped, both men spilled outside and started fighting beside the guardrail along the coastal highway. Summer curled up in her seat and clung to my hand, crying as she apologized over and over. I pulled my hand free and stepped outside. The sea wind struck my face, stinging my eyes. In the distance, the two men were still wrestling with each other. We hadn't even reached the island yet, but as far as I was concerned, this trip was already over.

After my wife, Simone Inman, gets into a car accident, I examine her as her doctor and discover that she has a malignant brain tumor. Afraid that she will be devastated, I plan to tell her later. So, I hide the medical report in my bag. But when she happens to see it, she mistakenly thinks it is my diagnosis instead. One day, when I arrive at her office, I overhear her talking to her best friend, Mindy Fox. She says, "My husband has no talent, no looks, only money. And now, he even has a tumor in his brain… If Shawn hadn't gone abroad back then, I would never have married him. I'm so unlucky! But good thing I never agreed to have children with him. Once he dies, all his money will be mine." Later on, she claims she has amnesia after the car accident and cannot remember who I am. She even treats her male secretary, Shawn Erskine, as her husband and blatantly brings him into our home. I smile scathingly and say, "Let's get a divorce, Simone."

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.

During a thunderstorm on the border, my fiancee, Eleanor Ashby, covers my retreat and falls down a cliff. The search and rescue team spends three months searching through flash floods without finding a trace of her. Everyone concludes she's dead. I refuse to give up and spend another two years looking for her. Eventually, I find her at a small clinic in a remote mountain village. But she's become the wife of the clinic's caregiver, Dylan Foster. That's when I learn she's lost her memory and fallen in love with someone else. In my previous life, I ignore her wishes and force a renowned neurosurgeon to use a high-risk treatment to restore her memories. The day her memories return, the man who has cared for and protected her for the past two years throws himself into the river in despair. Later, during an earthquake rescue mission, Eleanor and I are trapped beneath a collapsed mountainside. There's only one narrow escape route wide enough for one person. She forcibly pushes me out. Moments later, a second collapse buries her beneath a massive boulder. With her dying breath, she reaches through a crack in the rocks and grips my hand. She says in a hoarse voice, "Callum Pierce, these ten years we've spent together is repayment for the debt I owed you from the ten years before. We're even now. Neither of us owes the other anything anymore. "If there's a next life, don't let me remember the past. Please... let me be with him." Tears blur my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I find Eleanor. This time, I choose to respect her decision and let go of the life she's forgotten.

Ever since my wife, Delia Sutcliffe, and Jensen Pike become an on-screen couple, accidents keep finding me. The first time, funeral wreaths line our front door, and someone swaps our Home Sweet Home sign for a funeral notice. The second time, someone douses me with a bucket of pig's blood outside my office building. The third time, a car hits me while I'm walking down the street, and I spend three months stuck in bed. Every time I fight with Delia about it, she brushes it off. "Those people just get a little carried away. If you'd listened to me and stayed home, none of this would've happened." Then, the tenth time comes. A fire breaks out in our house for no apparent reason, I end up with burns all over my body, and the doctors fight for seven days in the ICU to save my life. The day I wake up in the hospital, Delia hands me a set of divorce papers. "Jensen and I still have to work together for a while, and we need to get married to keep the buzz going. Let's divorce first, and we'll remarry once it's over. "You know it's just for publicity." This time, I don't explode. I calmly sign my name.