Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Male POV Romance Marriage

On the drive back from picking up our marriage license, Emily Adair suddenly spoke up. "I cheated on you." She pointed at the passenger seat where I was sitting and smiled with cruel amusement. "He was sitting right there yesterday, kissing me. He's an amazing kisser. I couldn't help myself, so I slept with him." Betrayed for the second time. I froze, the pain crushing my chest so hard I couldn't make a single sound. But Emily's smile only grew wider. "I finally get what Jessica saw in him. Honestly? Dylan is way more of a man than you'll ever be." Jessica was my ex-wife. Dylan used to be my closest friend. Five years ago, I walked in on the two of them together in bed. When I'd lost all hope, Emily came into my life and saved me. But now, she had betrayed me with the same exact man.

Before my mother died, she arranged a marriage for me. My bride-to-be was Rosalind Young, Kingsford's most formidable financial tycoon. Before I married her, I added three clauses to the prenuptial agreement. First, no feelings. Our marriage was purely business. Second, she could live her life however she pleased, while I'd live mine. Third, I would step aside immediately if her true love ever came along. Nevertheless, I would be getting double the alimony. Rosalind was quite pleased that I knew my place. Our marriage was a peaceful one until the day a teenage girl who bore a striking resemblance to her knocked on the door of our mansion and calmly said, "Sir, I'm Rosalind's daughter. She raised me elsewhere. I'm 17."

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.

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.

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.

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.

In the last six months, I have been away for work. But when I come home, I find out that my wife, Vanessa Hudson, is now three months pregnant. She insists that she hasn't been cheating on me. But her ex-boyfriend's post online tells a different story. Harold Quinton writes, "Thank you, Vanessa, for fulfilling my dream of becoming a father. You've worked so hard through ovulation, egg retrieval, and implantation, mother of my child." Harold has a very severe case of erectile dysfunction. The moment I find out my wife has gotten pregnant with another man's test tube baby, I feel bitter inside. I dial my boss' number and say to her, "I'm willing to take on the overseas general manager position that you offered me previously." Then, I turn to Vanessa and say, "Let's get a divorce."

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.

My wife has a severe sex addiction. But in the seven years we've been married, she never lets me touch her. To suppress her urges, she spends all day submerged in ice-cold water, and her arms are covered in needle marks. Several times, I try to initiate intimacy out of concern for her, but her reaction is terrifying. She even threatens to kill herself. "I told you, I only want a Platonic relationship in this lifetime. Can you stop being so selfish? If you insist on making me do that, I'd rather die!" she exclaims. She maintains this unusual obsession for seven years. Even after ending up in the hospital multiple times from suppressing her desires, she refuses to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a man comes in for a pre-check of his phalloplasty enlargement for the ninth time. After the anesthesia takes effect, he begins rambling incoherently. "Honey, I love you so much." Looking at the surgical scars, I shake my head, thinking this guy is really willing to go to extreme lengths for his wife. Then, I hear his final murmur. "Tasha, aren't I so much better compared to your useless husband?" My hand jerks, and I nearly drop the scalpel. It is because my wife's name is Tasha Snyder.

I'm born different, with two hearts inside my body. This is the only thing about me that makes my parents happy, because my brother, Tristan Foster, has congenital heart disease. They bring me into this world only so he can keep living. Then I meet Cindy Green and marry her. She pulls me out of the desperate need to chase my family's love. I think she's going to be different from my parents. But when Tristan's condition flares up, she becomes obsessed with wanting me to donate one of my hearts to him. What she doesn't know is that I only have one heart left. The other one is already beating inside her.

At a yacht party, someone suggests we play Two Truths and a Lie. The rules are simple. If someone calls your bluff and proves that you are lying, you have to take a penalty shot. When it's my turn, I look across the deck at my girlfriend of eight years, Claire Sullivan, and smile. "I'm getting married this year." Before anyone else can react, my best friend, Daniel Parker, raises his hand. "Bullshit. That's a lie. There's no way you're getting married this year." Laughter erupts around the table, and everyone turns to Claire, waiting for her response. Instead, she calmly picks up a glass of liquor and slides it across the table toward me. "You lost. Drink." Without hesitation, I pick up the glass and knock it back in one swallow. The liquor burns all the way down my throat, and my heart aches along with it. Then it's Daniel's turn. He leans back with a smug grin and says, "I got married this year, too." I call his bluff, but Daniel merely raises an eyebrow. Instead, he reaches into his bag, pulls out a marriage certificate, and passes it around for everyone to see. Daniel lets everyone take a look at it. My eyes drop to the names: Claire Sullivan under Bride and Daniel Parker under Groom. For a few seconds, I can't move. Then everyone bursts out laughing. "Julian lost again!" "We knew he would!" "So double shot this time!" Claire looks at me with what almost passes for an apologetic smile. "We lost a bet last time," she says casually. "The punishment was getting married, so… we did." I stare at the woman I've loved for eight years, then at the man I've trusted as my best friend. My blood runs cold. It seems that Daniel hasn't just won the game; he's won Claire, too. And the worst part? They've both forgotten one thing. I always keep my word. I said I would get married this year, and I will, but Claire just won't be the bride.

To save my daughter, I collected 50,000 plastic bottles. Day after day, I dug through trash, carried them home, and traded them for scraps of hope. However, when I finally hauled them all to the recycling center, I learned their selling price had dropped. The 50,000 bottles were worth only enough to buy my daughter a better urn. Desperate, I held my feverish daughter in my arms as she suffered a seizure. I called my actress wife for help. Her answer was ice-cold. “$5,000 for a fever? Do you think I’m some kind of charity?” The irony was that she had spent $50 million building a private hospital for her screen partner’s dog just hours earlier.

Charlotte Crowe's childhood sweetheart started acting up again, which meant she was ready to divorce me again. By then, I had gone numb. I looked at her calmly and said, "This will be the eighth time." Guilt crossed her face as she looked at me, her eyes full of helplessness and pleading. "Gregory, I don't have a choice. You know Victor talks about killing himself every day. I can't just ignore him. But don't worry. As soon as I calm Victor down, we'll get married again." I said nothing. She had said the same thing to me more times than I could count. We got married eight times and got divorced eight times. Even the courthouse staff knew me by now. Behind my back, they said we practically kept the divorce court in business. With the freshly issued divorce papers in my hand, a staff member behind me asked curiously, "So when are you coming back for your next remarriage?" I gave a faint shake of my head. "There won't be a next time."

At Opaline Corp, the lowest-performing employee had to eat a plate of pasta mixed with live worms. This time, Tristan Crocker lost three clients and landed dead last. To keep Tristan from feeling singled out, my wife, Wendy Kline, hit me with a nine-million-dollar performance penalty because I showed up one minute late while sick—even though I'd brought in three million in revenue. Just like that, I became the first employee in company history with negative earnings. Grinning, Tristan shoved the plate toward me. "Wendy updated the company rules last night to keep everyone in line. Anyone who's late gets penalized three times their performance. You always said mistakes deserve punishment. Now that it's your turn, you're not backing out, right?" Every eye in the room locked on me, waiting for me to lose it. Wendy quickly sent me a message: [The nine million is only on paper. It's not a real fine. With your talent, you'll earn it back in three months. Tristan's allergic to worms. If he ends up in the hospital over a punishment, it'll damage the company's reputation. And if people hear we punished an outsider, that'll look even worse.] [You're my husband. You're one of us. I love you, which is why I'm giving you the chance to show some leadership.] [Once this blows over, I'll give you an extra twenty dollars a month, okay?] When I didn't reply, she finally snapped. "Company rules apply to everyone, even the top performer. If you don't like it, you're free to leave." I nodded, unclipped my badge, and set it on the table. "Fine. I quit." I looked at her. "And while we're at it, let's get divorced."

On the eve of the wedding, Rosalie Bloom terminates her marriage with me before announcing that Evan Lockwood is the man she's in love with. So, I marry Noelle Lockwood, who has been pursuing me relentlessly this whole time. She holds a luxurious wedding of the century for me, which shakes the city to its roots. In the fourth year after our marriage, when I find out that Noelle has suffered from an unfortunate miscarriage, I'm so worried about her that I get into a car crash. That's when I accidentally overhear her conversation with her assistant. "Hurry up and withdraw Dominic's bone marrow while he's still unconscious so that we can save Ev's life." It turns out that Noelle is actually in love with Evan, her own stepbrother, instead of me. All the happiness and love I've felt in this marriage is fake…

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.

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

On the very day I underwent a vasectomy, Susan bought the designer tuxedo I had been eyeing for months. However, her next words struck me like a bolt of lightning. “Tomorrow is my baby’s sip-and-see. I need you looking your best.” The IV needle snapped right out of the back of my hand. With bloodshot eyes, I begged her to stop playing around. However, her face remained dead serious. “Choosing to be childfree back then was just a compromise because we were struggling. But now, I’m sitting on a multi-million dollar estate. I need an heir to inherit my fortune. My child will be your child, too. From now on, you will be the baby’s godfather.” In that exact moment, my vision blurred. “So, you pushed me to get a vasectomy just to secure the positions of your lover and your illegitimate child?" I spat out. Susan frowned, annoyed. “Myles, watch your mouth. I am giving you the status of my official husband, and I'm giving Owen the child. It’s a fair trade. Staying with me means you get to be a father without any of the pain. If you leave me, who else would ever want a sterilized man like you? Think about it wisely.” The pain hit me all at once as the anesthesia wore off. Yet, I couldn’t help but remember that once upon a time, she had carried a child of ours that she refused to accept.

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."

My wife, Natasha Simpson, cheated on me while she was pregnant, but she ended the affair immediately. Her entire family stood up for her. "She's changed. She knows she was wrong. She's pregnant, and that's your child." Pressure came at me from every direction. Everyone expected me to forgive her and be a devoted husband. However, the disgust I felt after her betrayal drove me into depression. Because she was pregnant, I had to keep my temper under control. I endured the racing heart and sleepless nights and forced myself to suffer in silence. The only outlet I had left was an increasingly obsessive fixation on cleanliness. She always spoke to me gently. "It's okay. I'll follow your rules. Once the baby is born, we'll put all this behind us and live a good life together." From then on, she disinfected everything she touched. She had to wear gloves whenever she touched me, and we slept in separate rooms. Yet she never complained. "It's okay. I'm the one who wronged you..." Then, one day, I complained about a strand of hair on the floor. She finally snapped and tore off the protective clothing she had been wearing. "Enough! I cheated, but I ended it. Do you really have to punish me like this? Look at yourself. Do you even look normal anymore? Am I really that disgusting?" She deliberately trashed the house. She smashed plates and kicked over trash cans, all to punish me for my obsession with cleanliness. With her entire family behind her, she took advantage of the fact that I would compromise for the sake of our child and pressured me once again to forgive her betrayal. Something inside me finally broke. I started vomiting blood and was rushed to the hospital. Strangely enough, I felt relieved. "Let's get a divorce, Natasha."