قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Romance وتضم Mistress وتدور في Female Growth

On Christmas Eve, while her husband takes their son to watch fireworks with his first love, Justine Payne finally makes up her mind—she's getting a divorce. They've been married for five years. To everyone else, she's the lucky woman with the perfect life. She has a devoted husband and a smart, adorable son. But only she knows the truth—her husband has never let go of his first love. Even worse, the child she nearly died giving birth to can't wait to replace her with someone else. So, Justine decides to set them both free—a husband whose heart doesn't truly belong to her and a son who can't wait to replace her. She refuses to keep holding on to love that isn't returned.

For eight years I was Ethan Black's right hand, his ride-or-die. Then I finally married him and became Mrs. Black. Three months into the marriage, I deliberately shredded one of his contemporary art pieces, a million dollars gone in a few clean strokes, all because his eyes had lingered a second too long on the new intern. Before Ethan could lose his temper, lines of text bloomed in the air in front of me, telling me I was nothing but the villainess in someone else's novel. [This woman's completely lost it. Does she really think Ethan married her out of love?] [He keeps his old buddy around as a human shield to protect his real love. Once she's served her purpose, he ships her off to a psych ward.] [Watch, the male lead's about to slap her.] I stared hard at the man coming through the door. But when Ethan reached me, he didn't even glance at the ruined canvas. He grabbed my hand instead, his voice almost pleading. "Babe, does it hurt? Did it feel good, ripping it up? If that wasn't enough, there's another hundred of them in the storage room."

My husband sponsored a poor female college student. While I was being dragged into an alley by a criminal, he was helping her pick out lingerie. While I was hospitalized with serious injuries, he used the money my mother left me to buy her a limited-edition handbag. I confronted him in a heated argument, but he accused me of being unreasonable. "I thought your injuries were so serious, but look—you didn’t even die! Besides, your money is my money. I’ll spend it however I want!"

When my husband, Jared Hunt, receives a promotion that requires him to travel to Belmont, a big city, he submits a list of family members who will be traveling with him to the organization. He has submitted two names; the first one being our son, Jackson Hunt, and the second being a knowledgeable young woman, Sabrina Hayes. She's a friend who has traveled to the village with him in the first place. Life in the village is difficult. There's no way Jared will let Jackson suffer in the village. As for Sabrina, he has already given her his word to take her back to Belmont a long time ago. But when it comes to me, his actual wife, he thinks I should be gracious and offer the opportunity of traveling to Belmont to others. "It's completely useless for a country bumpkin like you to go to Belmont. Sabrina is very knowledgeable, so she's a more suitable candidate. Jackson and I will come back for you when an opportunity comes up in the future." As I listen to Jared's perfunctory explanation, I can feel my heart breaking. But what Jared doesn't know is that I'm not a country bumpkin despite having lived in the village longer than him. The truth is, I'm the talent that Belmont wants the most. The promotion that Jared cherishes the most is actually something that I don't want.

Five years after moving abroad, I return to the country for the first time at the invitation of a business partner. My partner sends a reliable assistant to meet me at the company entrance. I never expect to see my ex, Roy Henderson, who disappeared without a trace five years ago. Back then, a car accident lands me in the hospital. I need his signature, but he is nowhere to be found. Later, I find out he has gone to celebrate his lover's birthday. Everyone assumes I will forgive him like I always do. After all, I have forgiven him countless times before. As soon as I get out of the hospital, I leave the country and disappear from his life completely. Roy frowns as I walk into the company. "You actually tracked me down?" He lets out a sigh. "Forget it. Since you've found me anyway, Ava just had a baby and is still in postpartum recovery. Go take care of her."

When I turned eighteen, I awakened my wolf. That was also when a strange System appeared in my mind. It told me that if I won over Matthew Reed and survived his betrayal-and-groveling arc, I would receive $32 billion. That was the only reason I agreed to keep our marriage secret. But the night Matthew won Best Actor, he posted a photo on Instagram of himself feeding Hellfire Wings to his childhood sweetheart, Layla Bennett. The caption read: [After all this time, this is still the flavor I crave most.] Immediately afterward, he exposed our secret marriage and posted evidence that I had paid him to mark me against his will. The trending page crashed on the spot. My hands shook as I reached for him through our mind-link, but Matthew didn't sound sorry at all. "Layla's been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. This is her last wish. "She can't be labeled a homewrecker. You've had me for three years. Can't you show a little compassion for a dying woman?" The entire internet called me a homewrecker who was destroying their true love. Some of his fans even made black-and-white memorial photos of me and plastered them across my front door. They demanded that I, the "vicious mate," break our bond and step aside for his true love. I sat there in silence, tears running down my face, when the System suddenly roared inside my head: [Hostile betrayal by target detected. Host bears no responsibility. Groveling Protocol disabled.] [Mind-link backlash blocked. Switching to: Maximum Savage Comeback Mode!] The moment the System fell silent, my head snapped up, every trace of tears gone. I went live to the entire internet, grabbed a megaphone, and planted myself right outside Layla's VIP hospital room. "Terminal stomach cancer, and she's still stuffing her face with Hellfire Wings? Is she trying to die even faster?"

Everyone knew that Simon Zimmer and Luna Springfield had been friends with benefits for a year, but they had chosen to hide it from Bertha Marsh, the deaf one. During a New Year’s gathering, Bertha's cold attitude caused displeasure to Simon’s friend. “Simon, is Bertha kicking up a fuss again? Seriously, that doctor of yours is more considerate. She knows how to get you into a good mood and doesn’t throw tantrums,” he said loudly with disdain. Simon’s expression turned dark, and he snapped at him. “Don’t say anything you shouldn’t. Bertha’s the most important person to me. I’ll die if she leaves.” He then anxiously signed to Bertha to ask whether she was sick. What he did not know was that Bertha had heard it all, and their future together was over.

Coming home from a late shift on a winter night, my fingers were stiff with cold. The first thing I did was head for the bathroom. Ethan stopped me, a bowl of late-night leftovers in his hand. “What took you so long? Rena’s in the bath. Just wait a bit.” I glanced at the clock. It was already eleven thirty. “I have to be up at six. Could you ask her to finish earlier next time?” He frowned. “It’s just a bath. Do you really have to make an issue of it?” When we’d been apartment hunting, I suggested getting a place with two bathrooms. Ethan insisted on this one because it was close to his and Serena’s office. Their commute was ten minutes. Mine meant three transfers and nearly four hours round trip. Back then he’d said, “I’ll drive you to and from work. You won’t have to cram onto the subway.” Six months later, not once. The bathroom door opened and Serena walked out in my bathrobe. “Sorry, Quinn, I didn’t know you’d still need to shower this late. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have soaked so long.” Ethan immediately grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her, then bent down to towel off her wet hair. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t owe her an apology. She’s just tired from work. On edge.” A sudden wave of weariness washed over me. I set down the towel I’d been drying my hands with and slipped off my engagement ring. “Right. On edge.” “So this place is all yours.”

After getting into an accident, I pretend to be an amnesiac to pull a prank on my husband and son. "Who are you guys?" I ask. A hint of delight flickers in my son's eyes. He pulls a woman waiting outside the hospital ward inside and says, "My parents and I came to visit you, ma'am." My husband watches all of this happen without saying a word. He doesn't correct our son.

My husband was out cold. Middle of the night, his phone lit up on the nightstand—chat app blowing up. I leaned over and grabbed it, quiet as a breath. Messages from someone named 'Viv.' Her last one? [Goodnight, Matt.] I had my fingerprint saved, but I'd never used it. Six years of trust. Six years of believing he was loyal—maybe too awkward to cheat. But something felt off. So I tapped in. And just like that, I opened Pandora's box. My heart? Tanked.

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

I came home late one night to find another woman in the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Alistair Westwood. She was wearing my silk slip, which barely covered her thighs. Barefoot, she pressed herself against him. His hand was wrapped around her bare waist. "Nika isn't feeling well, so I told her she could stay here for now." Nika peeked out from behind him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was your place." "Where is she going to sleep?" I demanded. "And why is she wearing my clothes?" Alistair frowned. "Nika is sick. Obviously, she'll sleep with me so I can look after her. Can't you just let this go for once?" "It's fine. I can sleep on the couch," Nika offered. Alistair cut her off at once. "No. You're too sick to sleep there." I stared at the two of them for a moment. Then I grabbed a pillow and a blanket. "I'll take the couch." As soon as the bedroom door closed, I opened my laptop and reached for an invitation on the table. Half an hour later, I typed my answer. By the next day, Alistair's company had lost one of its biggest partnerships.

My brother-in-law passed away in an accident. Out of pity for his widow, my husband decided to be the breadwinner for both families. After that, my husband and son both gave all their love to my widowed sister-in-law. On her birthday, my husband and son reserved a restaurant in town for her party. I was plucking corn in the field when I started bleeding, a sign that I was miscarrying. I called my husband, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital. However, he scolded me angrily, calling me a liar. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t touched you in months! How could you be pregnant?” My son grabbed the phone impatiently as well. “Mom, the teacher said lying is wrong! Aunt Laura’s blowing out the candles now, bye!” We had been married for seven years, yet they had completely forgotten that today was my birthday too. Despairing, I dialed another number. “Mother, I changed my mind. I’m going back to inherit the clinic.”

Ashton King had been in love with me for twelve years before he finally won me over. Whenever his friends brought it up, they would say, “If you ever break up, we’ll stop believing in love.” “Where else are you going to find a man who saved himself for you for that many years?” I believed them. No one could love me more than Ashton did. Then, the night before our wedding, something changed. My best friend had just returned from abroad. We were waiting out the rain in the car when she pointed to a young intern outside. “Chloe, look. She’s wearing the same bracelet as Ashton and has the same phone case. Do you think she has a crush on him?” I glanced over, then shook my head with a laugh. “He wouldn’t encourage that. He spent twelve years pining after me.” “Exactly. He knows what it feels like,” she said. “What if he sees himself in her and starts falling for her too?” My hand went still. A moment later, Ashton hurried out of the office building. He walked up to the intern and handed her an umbrella. For the first time, I felt a flicker of doubt about the man I trusted so completely.