Male POV Romance Short Stories & Marriage Novels

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."

My wife had been raised under an elite education system that taught her to avoid anything she considered a pointless drain on her time and energy. When I was hospitalized for a week with stomach pain, she never came. She simply arranged for a caregiver. Even sex was timed down to the second. Every time, once she counted to three hundred, she would get out of bed without another word. For three years, I lived like a shadow, following her rules and terrified of stepping out of line. I kept telling myself that this was simply how she was. Until one day, I was waiting for her at an intersection to pick me up when a group of thugs dragged me into an alley and beat me. A passerby called the police. An entire hour later, Sienna Monroe arrived at the police station. The first thing she did was glance at her watch. "Settle it. A lawsuit would only drain energy I don't need to spend." stood frozen beneath everyone's scrutiny, their gazes pricking at me like needles. Then her male assistant got out of the passenger seat, carrying a steaming container of chicken noodle soup. "It's my fault. I got a craving for the chicken noodle soup from the south side, so Ms. Monroe went out of her way to pick some up for me. Otherwise, she would've gotten here sooner to pick you up, Vincent." Sienna turned to him and gently reassured him. "It's not your fault. He should've been more careful." I suddenly let out a laugh. Tears ran into the corner of my mouth, salty and bitter. This woman who measured every minute of her life with precision was willing to drive across half the city for someone else. Her time was precious. So precious that she could not spare any more of it for me.

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 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."

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

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...

My wife's childhood best friend returned from overseas with a child. To protect his reputation and secure the boy's future, she told everyone that she was the child's mother. And my child? She claimed that my daughter was the bastard I had brought home after fooling around behind her back. When I finally broke down and demanded an explanation, she remained as calm as ever. "Bryan has always had it hard at home," she said. "And his son cannot grow up without a mother. I have to help them." That day, I looked at the woman I had loved for seven years and decided that I would never love her again.

I had been on a business trip overseas for less than six months when I suddenly received a call from the hospital. "Mr. Jones, your wife is having a difficult labor. Should we proceed with a C-section or try to continue with a natural delivery?" The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood there, frozen. When I left, my wife had not shown any sign of pregnancy. How could she be giving birth less than six months later? I quickly dialed her number. The moment the call connected, I heard her cries of pain. "Honey, what's wrong?" From the other end of the line, I could hear a nurse urging her to push harder. However, my wife forced her voice to sound calm. "Sweetheart, I just slipped and fell a moment ago. It's nothing serious. You should keep focusing on your business trip. Don't worry about me." As I listened, the faint sound of a baby crying filtered through the phone. My grip tightened so hard around the phone that it nearly cracked. "Is that so? Then, get some rest," I said calmly. After hanging up, I immediately called my father, the richest man in the country. "Dad, Rebecca's cheating on me. She's in the delivery room right now, having another man's child. Stop all investments in the Harris family immediately. I want her thrown out with nothing to her name."

After Cassian Frick scatters my mother's ashes, Serena Skelding and he become sworn enemies. To stand up for me, Serena drives her car into Cassian and breaks his leg. They remain locked in a bitter feud for five years. It finally comes to an end when Serena marries me, and Cassian leaves the country in disgrace. Three years later, Cassian shows up again at a class reunion. Someone urges him to liven things up. Cassian looks at Serena and smiles. "She and I once had a child. We went at it too roughly and lost it, though. Before I went abroad, she promised me she'd mourn our unborn child for three years." As he says this, he gives me a meaningful look. "Hey, you still haven't slept with her, have you?" I whip my head around and stare at Serena, demanding an explanation. But all she does is nonchalantly pat my hand and say, "After midnight, you can touch me." The normal intimacy between husband and wife somehow becomes a privilege she bestows upon me. She acts as if she's throwing me a bone. At that moment, I suddenly realize how laughably foolish I've been.

I've used my status as Rachel Drew's childhood friend to cling to her world for twenty years. Everyone knows I'm the headache she can't shake, the one who's always finding some new way to make her life difficult. But the day she picked up her new car, I suddenly reined in every last one of my moods and turned as silent as a ghost. Even Rachel found the change unsettling. She drove back to our shared apartment late that night through the rain, and for the first time ever, softened her tone to explain herself to me. "I didn't let you ride with me tonight because Dennis has a thing about germs. He can't stand the smell of grease and smoke that clings to you from the stew house. "The rain wasn't bad, so I just dropped him off first. Can we please not do the silent treatment again?" So it was Dennis Collin's precious germ phobia again, the one that couldn't stand a whiff of anything that smelled like real cooking. I gave her a thin smile. "It's fine. I don't mind." Not that it mattered. In three days, I'd be leaving abroad for the Le Cordon Violet culinary school in Dufonce, and after that, neither of us would have to worry about who smelled like what.

My girlfriend was a police officer. One day, I got kidnapped, and the explosives on my body were ten minutes away from detonating when the kidnappers ordered me to call her. Instead of worry, all I got was relentless scorn and a tongue-lashing. "Caleb, are you seriously doing this right now? How could you be so petty and jealous when a life is on the line?! Lucas' cat is in danger. It has been stuck on a tree for three days, and that cat is as important to him as his own life! "If I don't save them in time, you'll be the one at fault!" Over the line, I heard the voice of a young man that sounded, to my ears, anything but genuine. "Thank you Jamie, you're the best!" That man was my girlfriend's childhood friend, Lucas White. Before the bomb exploded, I sent her a final message. [I hope we never see each other again. Not in this life, and not in the next.]

A viral post pops up on my feed. "Did you betray anyone?" One reply underneath catches my attention. "My best friend, I guess. But honestly, it's not my fault. His girlfriend is exactly my type. The moment he introduced me to her, I fell for her. "At our graduation party, I got them both wasted and made my move on her. That lucky bastard had no idea how good he had it. "Later, I lied and told him I wanted to go abroad. By then, they were already married, but the truth was, I was only a state away, staying with his wife while she was pregnant with my child. "His wife comes to see us all the time now. The three of us are so happy together. "Technically speaking, I'm not the other man. The marriage certificate between his wife and me is the real one. We just never had a wedding. "There's nothing wrong with fighting for love. Don't give up just because the person you like is already taken!" Attached to the comment is a photo of a man and woman holding hands, their fingers intertwined. The faint scar on her wrist gives her away. The woman in that photo is my wife, Clara Lowden.

On the day of the World Racing Championship, my race car spins out of control and plunges off a cliff. I use every ounce of my strength to call my wife, Giselle Stewart, for help, but she chooses to ignore me. All I hear through my headset is her icy voice. "I told you that you'd regret this, Craig Dorsey." She then turns her back to me, walking away to celebrate her "nephew", Dennis Turner, who wins the championship in the end. Meanwhile, I plummet down the cliff, shatter my spine, and am left paralyzed from the waist down. I'm then reduced to a wretched existence in a wheelchair. Six years later, Giselle finds me just as debt collectors are pinning me to the ground and beating me into a pulp. Her eyes well up with tears. "I spent six years searching for you everywhere! Why didn't you come home if you were alive?" I don't answer her. The truth is that every last bit of love I had for her vanishes completely on that day.

When I was in a car accident, my fiancee, Celeste Quinn, was celebrating her first love's birthday. I was barely alive when I called her. All I got was her impatient voice. "Ryan Sheridan, what kind of stunt is this now? Are you ever going to stop? "Good. Die, then. Stop bothering me." I didn't die though. I decided to give her and her first love what they wanted. I stopped bothering her. Later, when she finally remembered me, she begged me to come back. I handed her a marriage certificate instead. "Sorry. I'm already married."

My daughter Xalia's final wish before she died was to visit Dreamhaven. For more than six months, I saved every penny I could from the 28-dollar monthly allowance my CEO wife gave me. I finally scraped together enough to buy two discounted tickets, only for the live-in male caregiver at home to suddenly start feeling sorry for himself. [Kids from rich families really are different. They can just decide to visit an amusement park that expensive. Unlike me, I had to start working for other people the moment I turned eighteen.] My older sister, Janet Edwards, and my wife, Fiona Watson, immediately took pity on Tyler Mitchell. They confiscated my tickets on the spot, then punished Xalia and me by cutting off our allowance for an entire year. They even accused me in unison. "A girl who's been spoiled her whole life will only grow up to become a gold digger! I'm not leaving my money to some little gold-digging homewrecker!" I was desperate to keep Xalia from dying with regrets, so I had no choice but to sell the gold bracelet my late mother had left me and use the money to buy the tickets again. But when I carried my barely breathing daughter to the entrance of Dreamhaven, the staff told me the entire park had been privately rented out by two wealthy tycoons and was closed to the public that day. Xalia died without ever getting to fulfill her final wish. Then I came across a photo of Tyler. He stood in front of Slumbering Belle Castle with his arms wrapped around my wife and sister. [Their love and affection are truly unmatched! I only said I wanted to go to Dreamhaven, and they immediately rented out the entire park for me!]

On the day of our fifth wedding ceremony, the bride, Natalie Knight, was late yet again. A notification suddenly popped up on my phone: a trending post on the local city forum. [What's the most thrilling thing you've done after finally winning over the person you'd secretly loved for years?] The original poster answered his own question: [Becoming her husband, obviously. Then stealing her away from my childhood best friend at his weddings five times and going at it with her backstage at the ceremony until we couldn't see straight.] Amid a flood of angry comments, the poster went ahead and shared a photo taken afterward, both of them drenched in sweat. No faces were visible, but it was easy to tell the poster was wearing a groomsman's suit. The woman, shown only in profile, was wearing a wedding dress. A strange sense of familiarity turned me cold from head to toe. The next moment, the doors to the wedding venue finally swung open, and two figures appeared before me. They matched the people in the photo exactly. It felt like I'd plunged into ice water. One was my childhood best friend, who'd been inseparable from me for thirteen years. The other was Natalie, the wife I'd married at the courthouse five years ago.

The day my entire family attended my girlfriend's wedding to my stepbrother, I laid in the bathtub and contemplated ending my life there and then. Just as the cold blade touched my wrist, my phone suddenly began ringing nonstop. It was a scheduled call my late mother had left for me. "Happy birthday, Casper!" After a moment of silence, I climbed out of the bathtub, got dressed, and secretly left the country. In the five years I was gone, I changed my name and phone number to cut off all ties with my home country. Everyone thought I was dead. They believed I had died on the day my girlfriend married my stepbrother. For five whole years, fresh red roses had been laid at my grave every single day. Five years later, I returned home to visit my mother's grave. At the floral boutique outside the cemetery, I happened to run into my ex-girlfriend, who had come to buy red roses. After a moment of shock and awkwardness, we finally greeted each other. "It's been a long time." I smiled at her politely. She stared at me without looking away. The red roses in her hand pricked her fingers until they bled. Just as we were about to part, she suddenly asked, "Why didn't you come looking for me in the past five years?" I smiled but didn't answer. After all, we weren't a couple anymore. She had married my father's illegitimate son, and I had a three-year-old child of my own. There was no going back.

Five years ago, my then girlfriend betrayed me for Ethan Reid. Together, they staged a car accident that killed both my parents. Then they hired someone to assault and murder my younger sister, who wasn't even sixteen, and framed me for it. I was thrown in prison where I suffered every day. It was Serena Cole who risked everything to become my defense attorney. She cleared my name and courted me with everything she had. She told me I was all she could see, that I was her whole world. When I finally gave her my whole heart, I looked down from upstairs and saw her kissing Ethan like she couldn't get enough of him, days before our wedding. Right there in our wedding car, they crossed every line. "Bold move, bride. Not worried the groom might see?" Ethan whispered. "His legs are crippled because of you. You know better than anyone whether he can even make it downstairs," Serena replied. "What's this, feeling guilty now? Every dirty thing I ever did to him, you were the one who planned it. You want me to tell him that?" "If you say a word, I swear I'll take you down with me," came her ragged response. Ethan bit her ear roughly, driving her over the edge. "Sure, sure. I know you love him so much. So doesn't this make it even more exciting? Say it. Who's your daddy?" She broke apart beneath him, saying his name over and over, breathless and undone. The tears hit me before I could stop them. She had known. All along, she had known everything that happened to me. And not only that, she had helped plan it.

I'd made plans to spend New Year's Eve with my fiancee, Sophie Bennett. I'd even rushed home with a custom cake I picked up just for us. However, my smile slipped the second I walked in. A photo of Sophie and me that was hanging on the wall was being used as a dartboard. Her guy best friend, Sean Hewitt, had one arm wrapped around her waist while casually throwing darts at it. "Oh, hey, you're back?" he said with a grin. "Perfect timing. We're playing Truth or Dare." The words had barely left his mouth when another dart hit the photo—right in my face. My chest tightened as I parted my lips to call him out. Yet, Sean only laughed. "Wow, hit you again? Guess even fate thinks you two aren't meant to be." Then, he added, all fake innocence, "Don't get the wrong idea, alright? It's just a game. Sophie and I are basically bros. You're not seriously bothered by this, are you?" I stood there, completely still. As I stared at that photo completely riddled with holes, I couldn't help but think it looked a lot like my heart at that moment. Sophie gave him a half-hearted scolding. "Alright, cut it out." But Sean just put on a wounded look and kept his arm around her waist. Sophie only smiled helplessly before turning to me with clear impatience. "Sean's just messing around. Don't stand there with that look on your face and kill the mood. It's just a photo. We can print another one tomorrow. Stop being so petty."

On the day Serena's company went public, she announced her engagement to her assistant, Hugo Snow. Meanwhile, I, her husband who had quietly stayed by her side for four years, watched as Hugo walked up to the press conference stage. "None of this would have been possible without Hugo's support," Serena stated. "I thank you all for trusting Serena. From now on, the two of us will be completing this project together, hand in hand," Hugo added. As I listened to the crowd shower them with congratulations, my clenched fist slowly loosened. It was finally time for me to let go of this four-year marriage.