Cerita Pendek Tragic Love Romance & Novel Marriage

All the paparazzi in Glorisia knows that Wanda Foster would rather sleep with an escort from a nightclub than with me, her legally-wedded husband. The daily question they ask is, "When will Mr. Gulliver give his precious first time away?" When faced with the paparazzi's cameras, Wanda turns to look at me arrogantly. "We can just lead different romantic lives on our own. If you don't like how I act, feel free to sleep with someone else too." After that, Wanda turns to leave. That night, the spicy photos of her and her latest beau go viral on the news once again. Just when everyone thinks I will spend yet another sleepless night agonizing over the news, I contact some paparazzi and place a reservation on a spot for sensational news. Then, I strip down and mess up the bedsheets before taking a nude photo of myself from another person's POV. After that, I use an unknown number to text Wanda. "Oh my, James is seriously amazing in bed! Let me know when you're going to divorce him!"

I'm the only heir to the wealthiest conglomerate in the world. My father, Tyrone Ferguson, is extremely powerful and has forces from both the underworld and the legal world eating out of his palm. But I witness my girlfriend, Vivian Vega, giving a "Voluntary Transfer of Body Ownership" contract to my arch nemesis, Richard Larkin, at our engagement ceremony. "Don't be mad at us, Isaac." Vivian shows me the contract, her tone still light and casual. "I love you, so I'll reserve my most treasured virginity for you. I will always be your wife, but I want to give the ownership of my body to Richard." "The hell are you on about?" With a deep frown on my face, I attempt to pull Vivian away from Richard, only to get pushed away by the latter. Vivian quickly moves to stand in front of Richard, her brows tangled into a frown. "Stop being so narrow-minded, Isaac! I'm free to give anyone my body!" She then stands on her tiptoes to kiss Richard right in front of me. At that moment, I become the biggest joke in elite society. Before the mass media begins spreading the news, I send out a text message calmly. "There's no need to help cover up for the Vega family's shady businesses anymore."

After the New Year, some of my husband's former students are back to visit him. So, my husband, Isaac Cooper, treats them to dinner. They greet us warmly, but when they first see me, there is a hint of surprise in their eyes. In the private room, Isaac takes my hand. Everyone starts teasing us. "Mr. and Mrs. Cooper are so loving. I'm so jealous!" I lower my head shyly and excuse myself to the restroom, only to overhear two of his students chatting. "I was startled just now. I thought Mr. Cooper's wife would be Lilith Walker." "But Mrs. Cooper looks so much like her. When she walked in, I almost mistook her for Lilith." I freeze on the spot. I know Lilith is Isaac's ex-girlfriend, but I have never seen her in person. Cold water runs over my hands. As I look at my carefully made-up face in the mirror, I suddenly feel a wave of nausea.

To give her family an heir, my wife got pregnant seventeen times, only to miscarry every single time. Everyone thought I was infertile. I visited every famous doctor I could find, swallowed countless herbal prescriptions, and even went through thirty treatment procedures, but I still couldn't give her a healthy child. Under pressure from the outside world, I finally agreed to let Talia Isaacson borrow sperm from her first love. On Talia's eighteenth pregnancy, the baby was finally healthy. She told me excitedly, "The Isaacson family finally has an heir. You won't have to suffer anymore. No matter what, I'm giving birth to this child." Just when I thought our life could finally return to normal, I overheard Talia talking to her first love. "Talia, you're so smart. You made Gavin believe he was infertile. He'll never guess you did it on purpose." Talia stroked her belly with a gentle expression. "Gavin's just too stupid. He believes whatever I say. If I hadn't wanted to force him into a divorce, I wouldn't have needed to abort all those children. "Once I give birth, we'll take the baby and leave this place forever." I looked down at the scars and damage left on my body by the medication and surgeries. My heart turned to ash. After seven years of marriage, we had finally reached the end.

My wife doesn't love me. She doesn't love our child either. On the day our son is born, she doesn't even look at him. She just drops him into my arms. Later, her first love returns. For the first time, the cold, distant woman drinks herself drunk at home. She laughs as she holds our son in her arms, and he wraps his arms around her neck in surprise. "Daddy, what's wrong with Ms. Sutton?" he whispers afterward. I kneel and hold him close. My eyes are red as I explain, "Someone Ms. Sutton loves has come back. We shouldn't bother her anymore. It's time for us to move out."

Gabriel Black and I had grown up together as childhood sweethearts, and when we reached adulthood, our families arranged our engagement. From the day the engagement was announced, I started counting down the days. However, Gabriel thought the whole thing was unfair. “Other people get to fall in love a few times in their lives. Why should I be stuck with just you my whole life? You should date a few people, too. Don’t shortchange yourself.” And he meant it. In the year after our engagement, Gabriel went through seven girlfriends. Every time he changed partners, I would simply smile and say it didn’t matter. After all, I thought he would always come back to me. That was until the eighth girlfriend came along. He brought her to the Black family’s annual banquet. She clung to his arm and called him Gabe. I quietly set down my utensils. Right there in front of both families, I took out the engagement agreement and slid it to the center of the table. “Gabriel,” I said calmly, “you were right. Staying loyal to just one person really is a loss.” Later, I stood before him again, this time with my hand linked with the only son of the Graham family. Gabriel smashed his glass on the spot. For the first time, his eyes turned red. “Erin, what do you mean by this?” I smiled and said, “Didn’t you tell me to try dating, too? Well, I did, and it suits me just fine.”

I loved Cassidy more than anything. Although she had been involved with countless men, and she had even cheated on me with Henry, the fake heir, I still couldn't bring myself to let her go. I worked out, took medication, and did everything I could because I wanted to have a child with her. When the doctor finally told me today that I met the required fertility criteria, I grabbed the test results and rushed straight to her office. "Cassidy, I–" My voice came to an abrupt halt. Cassidy was passionately kissing her new male secretary with her arms wrapped around him. She glanced at me impatiently. "Get out!" I suddenly came to my senses. I could accept having a wife like her, but could our future child accept having a mother like her?

Xavier Galvan's first love, Winter Singleton, happens to return to the country on the same day our daughter, Tina Galvan, is diagnosed with a heart condition. I wait helplessly with my five-year-old Tina at the hospital for her results. Meanwhile, Xavier drives to the airport to pick up Winter and her son, Ian Becker, just so that he can feel like he has a father to pick them up. I sign the surgery consent form alone while sitting by Tina's hospital bed. Meanwhile, Xavier takes Winter shopping at the mall and even picks out a birthday present for his newly-appointed "godson". On the day of Tina's surgery, just before she's wheeled into the theater, she grabs Xavier's sleeve tightly, refusing to let go. "I'm scared, Daddy. Can you please stay here with Mommy and wait for me?" He agrees. However, a split moment later, Winter calls him. "Xav? Ian's looking for his 'daddy' everywhere at the birthday party. Can you please come over?" Xavier doesn't even hesitate as he pries Tina's fingers, one by one, from his sleeve, and says, "It's just a small surgery, Tina. There's nothing to be afraid of. "Winter needs Daddy now, but I'll be back soon afterward, okay?" Then, Xavier turns to leave. Tina doesn't cry. However, the first thing she does after coming back out of the surgery is to refer to him by a different address. "I don't want Uncle Xavier as my daddy anymore, Mommy."

When my husband, a college professor, suddenly asked to sleep in separate rooms, I knew he had developed feelings for one of his female students. Then that student hit our seven-year-old son with her car, leaving him paralyzed. I gave Cedric Langley two choices. Either send her to prison, or make sure she never graduated and force her to spend the rest of her life paying for what she'd done. But when Cedric came home, he dropped to his knees beside me, his eyes rimmed red. "She was so ashamed that she took her own life. I'll never betray you or our child again." He smashed the student's gravestone, burned everything connected to her, and became the devoted husband and father he had once been. Three years after our son was paralyzed, I happened to see a file open on Cedric's computer. "100 Reconciliation Coupons: Usage History." "Coupon No. 100: Forgive Elara for her unintended mistake and help her evade legal punishment." A loud buzz exploded inside my head. Elara Beaumont—the woman who should have been burning in hell for what she had done—was actually his teaching assistant, Evelyn Montrose, living under a new name. One reconciliation coupon was enough for him to completely forgive the woman who had left our son paralyzed. But there was something Cedric did not know. That very day, the last reconciliation coupon between us had just been used up.

I've been a goody-two-shoes for 18 years. The only outrageous thing I've ever done is get into a secret relationship with my stepbrother, Kieran Brock, even though my mom and my stepfather, Andre Brock, are still living in the same house as us. During the day, we're stepsiblings who aren't familiar with each other. At night, however, we tangle with each other heatedly in the same bed. During the fifth year of our underground relationship, I accidentally overhear Kieran's conversation with his friend. "When you were 21, you robbed your stepsister of her virginity. Now that you've toyed with her for five years, aren't you planning on giving her a legitimate position by your side?" I feel my heart tensing. Somehow, I look forward to hearing Kieran's answer. As Kieran plays with his lighter, he shoots his friend a flippant smile. "Like you said, she's my sister. She's not meant to be known as my lover. Had I not plan on getting revenge on her mom for ruining my family, there's no way I'd sleep with her! "Also, I've already proposed to Vivian. She's the only woman who is worthy of becoming my wife." I don't break down and demand answers from Kieran. Instead, I pretend to not hear anything as I turn on my heel and walk away. On the day of Kieran's wedding, he specifically tells his friends to watch over the venue to prevent me from causing trouble there. What he doesn't know is that I've already boarded a flight meant for another country. This time, I will never come back.

On Christmas Eve, I giddily wait for my husband, Hunter Gibson, to come home while nursing my eight-month pregnancy. Unexpectedly, Hunter bursts through the front door with his childhood friend, Winter Jones, in his arms. I attempt to help him out, only to get shoved to the floor instead. My belly bumps into a corner of the coffee table, causing pain to shoot up my nerves. Cold sweat soon beads on my forehead, and yet Hunter doesn't even spare me another glance. "Get out of my way! Someone drugged Winnie's drink at the bar! If I don't purge the poison out of her, she'll die!" As I shield my belly, I dig out my phone. "I'll call an ambulance for her—" But Hunter snatches my phone away before hurling it at the floor, breaking it into splinters. Then, he grabs me by the neck angrily. "Are you trying to ruin Winnie's reputation? If word gets out, how is she going to live with her head hung high?" In order to prevent me from "ruining his plan", Hunter decides to trap me on the balcony while disregarding my pleas and the fact that I'm only wearing thin pajamas. "You should take some time to cool off! Once you've finally learned your lesson, you're only permitted entry!" I can only slam my palms onto the glass door desperately with tears running down my face. There, I'm forced to watch as Hunter and Winter go at it like desperate rabbits on the carpet in the living room, with the Christmas songs serving as their ambiance. A heavy snowfall has occurred that night. At the crack of dawn the next morning, Hunter finally remembers that I exist. He calls my number, yet my phone was turned off. Furious, Hunter yells, "Where the hell did you go? Winnie's stomach is in discomfort! Get your ass back here right now and cook her some soup!" What he doesn't know is that I'm right outside the balcony door. The thing is, dead people are incapable of answering phone calls, not to mention Hunter has already broken my phone, to begin with.

At the engagement banquet, Monique Walton is in the middle of telling all the guests and the viewers of the livestream that's taking place about our tale of romance. What she doesn't know is that I have already swapped out the romantic video of our sweet memories for the racy clip of her and Terry Caldwell going at it like rabbits. When the clip is presented on the monitor, everyone falls silent immediately. That's when the live comments on the livestream instantly overwhelm the comment section. Monique turns around in a fluster, the well-maintained smile on her face starting to crack bit by bit. She stumbles toward the control panel, accidentally knocking over the champagne tower in her haste. Amid the chaos, I draw to my feet and walk onto the stage. Then, I pick up the microphone Monique has just dropped. "Everyone, this engagement banquet is officially canceled. From now on, Monique Walton and I are no longer affiliated with each other."

After the car accident, my best friend, Isla Mercer, and I were both rushed to the hospital. My husband, Adrian Cole, an ER physician, arrived in a hurry, but instead of coming to me, he went straight to Isla. My leg had gone numb after being crushed beneath the mangled car door when I tried to save Isla. Isla only had a cut on her arm, yet my husband didn’t even look back as he chose her. I endured the pain and begged him to treat me first. But my brother, Caleb Whitaker, arrived late and immediately refused. “Adrian is the only attending physician available right now. You’re his wife. If he treats you first, what will people think of him? “Stop being so selfish. Just endure it. It’ll pass.” When I woke up again, excruciating pain shot through my empty right leg. Tears streaming down my face, I demanded an explanation. “I was clearly more seriously injured. Why didn’t you save me first?” Caleb’s eyes were filled with nothing but blame. “Natalie, there’s a limit to how selfish you can be! “Isla was already in the terminal stage of cancer before she was brought here. How could you even try to take away the last bit of peace she has? Don’t you have any conscience?” Beside him, Adrian didn’t defend me. He simply lowered his head and silently accepted everything Caleb said. I lay on the hospital gurney, staring at the ceiling, and suddenly felt like laughing. So it wasn’t that they couldn’t save me. They simply didn’t want to. Fine. They had no idea that the cancer diagnosis belonged to me. And I didn’t need any of them anymore.

Ever since I catch Wren Sinclair cheating on me, every day when she comes home, I'll pin her down by the entryway, pull off her skirt, and spray high-concentration alcohol all over her private area to disinfect it. Knowing she's in the wrong, Wren always cooperates with me, her eyes red as she gently tells me to stop. But today, she comes home nearly two hours late. When I smell men's cologne on her, I lose it again, grabbing her collar. "You were only half an hour late last time, and you slept with a man. Now you're two hours late. Tell me! How many men was it this time? Four?" Wren apologizes to me for the 29th time, but when I push her away again, she finally snaps. She raises the back of her hand, still bruised from the IV, and screams, "Enough! You don't even care that I'm practically dying from this fever. How much longer are you going to keep this up? "Yes, I got drunk and slept with another man once. Do you think you're holier than me? No wonder you were dragged into an alley when you were 16, stripped naked, and abused! Theo, a paranoid, crazy man like you, deserves everything you get!" The spray bottle falls from my hand and shatters at my feet. The smell of alcohol hits me, and I can't get a word out. She looks so fed up with me, and suddenly, I feel tired. It's fine. I'm done with this relationship anyway.

On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious. She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us. By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage. When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce." My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them. "Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.

Today is my birthday. But my wife, Talia Ford, tells me that she can't spend time with me today. She needs to accompany her uncle, Adam Ford, to his physical checkup. I'm about to convince Talia to stay with me when a row of comments suddenly pops up in front of my eyes. "Stop wasting your breath. Just let her go. "In your previous life, Talia insisted on keeping her uncle company, so you could only return to your research lab to work. But you predicted that the dead volcano located next to Bareyard Village would erupt tonight. So, you forcibly stopped Talia and made her go back to the village to save her grandpa. "But when her uncle went for the physical checkup on his own, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Engulfed by despair, he took his own life by jumping off the hospital. "After he died, Talia pinned the blame on you. She bought some potent rat poison and poisoned your food, thus killing you."

After Elena Jennings is reborn, she realizes that she has gone back in time to the year when she's still 27 years old. At the moment, she has one son and one daughter, and her husband is Lucas Fischer, the richest man in the world. Lucas has maintained his top spot steadily on the world's ranking for the richest people. He's also the ultimate dream man, crowned by magazines as the man women all over the globe want to marry the most. Even the royal family of Evgolia wishes to marry their princess to this very man. Everyone keeps claiming that Elena is extremely lucky to have married Lucas. But the first thing she does is seek out Lucas' first love, Sabrina Miller, with a divorce agreement in hand. As she pushes the divorce agreement toward Sabrina, she states calmly. "I want to get a divorce. Lucas and the children are all yours."

After seven years of marriage, my husband grew tired of our quiet life and took a college student as his mistress. That fragile, pitiable girl held Alain Roth so completely he didn't come home for an entire month, no matter how I begged. On our son's third birthday, I came to their villa, holding the feverish child and pleading for him to return. Inside, he stayed lost in passion with her. Jeff Roth drew his last breath in my arms while their pleasure echoed through the night. At the funeral, Alain held me and wept, swearing he would return to the family and love only me. I agreed, driven solely by Jeff's dying wish. Four years later, a video from his old kindergarten surfaced, showing Alain with a radiant Mabel Flores and a three-year-old boy. The boy smiled brightly at the camera, lifting a trophy high. "Mom, Dad, we're the happiest family in the world!"

My wife, Ally Martin, is a CEO who's convinced that every man who married her only wanted her money. Any expense of mine over a hundred dollars has to go through her for approval first. I loved her enough to become the man standing quietly behind her empire. But the day I got into a car accident, she turned down my three-thousand-dollar surgery request. "Do you have any idea how many people live on three thousand dollars a month? I don't make money so you can leech off me!" The surgery came too late. My hand was left permanently disabled. I'd only just come off the operating table when her childhood friend, freshly back from abroad, posted on Instagram. The photo showed off a watch worth five million dollars. The caption read: [Guess some girls never really grow up. She's still willing to give me the best of everything, just like when we were kids.] He'd tagged Ally. I didn't blow up the way I used to. Instead, I liked the post and left a comment of my own: [Good for you two. Spend the rest of your lives like this.]