Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Mistress Female Growth Novels

The night before her wedding, Morgan Hayes was hit by a car while trying to save Sebastian Cole. She was thrown into the air, suffering multiple fractures, and her face was severely disfigured from the impact. Despite her injuries, Sebastian didn’t turn away from her. He still married her and continued to cherish and protect her as he always had. Everyone said Sebastian loved her more than life itself, that his love for her went beyond superficial appearances. She once believed that too until half a month ago when she discovered he was having an affair with their housemaid.

"If you could start over, who would you date?" That night, one of my fiancé's friends threw a party. We were playing truth or dare when the spinner landed on Julian Hale. All eyes in the room turned to Julian, who sat beside me. Then everyone turned to me with knowing, slightly envious smiles, ready to tease. Just yesterday, Julian had proposed to me with a three-million-dollar drone light show and a nine-million-dollar diamond ring. Glass in hand, my smile froze before it could fully form. Julian toyed with a metal lighter between his fingers. His gaze passed right over me and settled on the girl in white sitting in the far corner of the room. "Summer Lowe." His voice was flat. He didn't hesitate for even a second. The teasing in the room died instantly. A few of the guys across from us exchanged awkward looks. Someone coughed, then quickly tried to smooth things over. "Julian's joking. Everybody knows he's marrying Nora next month." Summer's head snapped up. Her eyes immediately welled with tears, and she twisted her fingers together nervously. "Julian, stop joking around. Nora's going to be upset." Sitting beside Julian, I felt my blood run cold.

I was four months pregnant when I discovered that my husband had fallen for our young family helper. He dropped to his knees and started slapping himself repeatedly with such force that blood rolled down from the corner of his mouth. He sobbed, swearing it was just a drunken mistake, swearing to me he'd never see her again. Thinking of the baby growing inside me, my heart softened, and I tore the divorce papers. The day I went into labor, I suffered serious complications. The baby was stillborn, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He didn't even get the chance to cry. I was drowning in grief, but then my husband walked into the delivery room holding the family helper's baby in his arms. "Don't be sad, Kelda. She's willing to let you raise her child." My anger ran so deep that I bit my lip until it bled. It was all my fault! I had been treating him too well all these years. He had completely forgotten what I, Kelda Shaw, was really capable of.

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."

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.”

I was pregnant and due any day. Austin Revelstone, my husband, had a sugar baby named Tawny Sully. Each time they renewed their arrangement, money came into my mother’s special care account. One day, he stayed a little longer to talk to me. Because of it, he was one minute late for his date with Tawny. Tawny was upset. She threw a tantrum and threatened to terminate their agreement. She would only stay if I aborted my baby. So, Austin slid the abortion form and a check for three million dollars across the table to me. “Please, just sign it. We can always have another kid. If Tawny cries anymore, she’ll get wrinkles.” He looked calm and unbothered. It was as if he were just talking about the weather. I raised my head and looked at him in disbelief. I trembled for a long time. Then, I finally signed my name on the abortion form. I wiped my tears and gave the check back to him. I made one additional request. “Let’s make that fake divorce certificate real this time.” I no longer needed his financial support for my mother’s surgery.

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.

The 19th time I demand a divorce from my husband, Jason Simmons, my best friend, Diana Nicholson, doesn't try to change my mind as usual. In the past, she always tried to stop me. She even personally showed up at Jason's company to ask him to reconcile with me. This time, she quietly contacts a lawyer for me, prepares a divorce agreement, and helps me with the divorce proceedings. Unable to help myself, I question her about her unusual behavior just as I'm about to sign the divorce agreement. It seems that I've touched a sore spot because she suddenly loses her temper and snaps, "Layla suffered a miscarriage because of you this time. How much longer are you going to cause a fuss?" Layla McKinley is Jason's mistress. Diana sighs as she takes in my bewildered expression, explaining, "The truth is, Layla was my junior in university. I'm the one who introduced her to Jason. I did my best to compensate you for so many years out of guilt, but I've grown exhausted. "For my sake, please stop causing a fuss," she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'll make it up to you for everything they've done." My body feels unbearably cold. I feel as if I've been shoved into a pool of freezing water. It turns out that both my friendship and my marriage have been nothing but a farce the entire time. I quietly flip open the divorce agreement when Diana isn't paying attention and pen my signature on the dotted line.

We had been married for five years, but Chuck Gorman spent more than half his time at the condo opposite the river. He claimed that his older brother, Calvin, had passed away at a young age, leaving behind his widow, who had no one to depend on, and that as Calvin's brother, he was responsible for taking care of both families. This was a Gorman family value of upholding loyalty and kinship. I had believed his words then. To help him uphold his loyalty and dignity, I tolerated it whenever he was absent during important holidays and said nothing when he split his time between his sister-in-law and me during Christmas dinner. I even had to hold back my tongue when others mocked me for being a weak woman who was willing to 'share her husband'. However, Chuck had always been gentle yet distant when he spoke to me. This continued until we were involved in an accident with several collisions. The car we were in was wrecked. As I shielded my heavily pregnant belly, I broke out in cold sweat from the pain. I kept hitting the window while shouting, "Chuck! Save the baby…" Chuck climbed out from the driver's seat and glanced at my bleeding body, only to turn away to pry open the car door of the back seat. He shielded Sandi Lemming tightly in his arms, holding her against his chest despite her suffering only minor scratches on the forehead. "Don't look, Sandi. It's okay. I'm right here." He patted her gently on the back while comforting her over and over to calm her nerves. As for me, I was stuck inside the car due to the dented car door. I realized that it was not loyalty and kinship he was practising. He was just unable to see Sandi come to harm at all.

After my husband got into a car accident, he started acting strange and unpredictable. I went to countless doctors, and every one of them told me the same thing—he couldn't be provoked, and I had to go along with whatever he wanted. When he said he didn't want me in the master bedroom, I moved my things into the guest room next door. When he said his childhood sweetheart had cancer and he wanted to spend her last days with her, I even brought her into our home. One night, when I went downstairs to get some medicine for my stomach, I heard Harvey's voice, his tone oh so tender. "Katie, you have to live on. If you don't, I'll die too." Katie's breathy, trembling voice followed. "Are you sure Jenna's willing to donate her bone marrow to me?" "Of course. Even if she had to die for me, she'd do it willingly." I froze in place. Tears streamed down my face. That's right. Five years ago, I had donated one of my kidneys to him. Back then, I loved him so much that I really would have died for him. But now, all I wanted was to leave.

I went alone to my favorite singer’s concert. During the song selection segment, I was really excited and hoped that I would be lucky enough to be picked. But in the next second, I saw my husband, who was supposed to be on a business trip, appear on the screen. Next to him was Mia Louise, his first love. “I’d like to pick Back To The Past. I want to go back three years when I hadn’t broken up with Mia.” The entire stadium cheered and celebrated their love. I was the only one in tears. During the next song selection segment, I saw my teary face show up on the screen. “I’d like to pick Back To The Past as well. I want to return to the time when I never said yes to Samuel Gardner’s proposal.”

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.

I'd been married to Cecil Smith for eight years. He was the youngest wedding planner in the country, yet our own wedding had been thrown together in a rush. I'd asked him about it many times. Each time, he'd take my hand and say the same thing. "Nora, once I make it into the Best of Weddings Hall of Fame, I'll give you a wedding the whole city will talk about. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're the wife I'd do anything for." He said it like he meant it, so I believed him. I gladly stayed up late rewriting proposals with him and worked alongside him on-site. When he needed cash to keep the business going, I sold the house my mother had left me. My coworkers would see how worn out I was and smile at me with a hint of mockery. "Mrs. Smith is so lucky. With a husband like Mr. Smith, who knows how spectacular that wedding is going to be." "Once the photos are up, we're all going to be very jealous of you." Then, on the day Cecil finally made the Hall of Fame, everyone crowded around a phone and gasped. He'd posted a photo on Instagram from a snow-covered mountain. It showed two passports and a wedding gown. Everyone assumed he'd finally taken me abroad for our bridal photo shoot. That was when I walked into the office with my suitcase. They stared for a few seconds. Then the questions came, their voices oddly hesitant. "Mrs. Smith, what are you still doing here?" "Don't tell me you weren't the woman Mr. Smith took with him."

In the eighth year of our secret office marriage, Marvin lit up every LED screen in Ocean City, just to make his little assistant smile. Amidst the well-wishes from everyone, the assistant cheerfully handed out gifts to the entire office. I casually tossed my gift into the trash. The assistant immediately ran to Marvin's office, tears streaming down her face, to report me. Moments later, Marvin, furious, suspended me from my position. As I walked out of the company building, Marvin's voice echoed from the loudspeakers on the top floor. "Celebrating Wendy's successful completion of her work, the gift is ready!" Wendy—was the assistant's name. As I watched the crowd rush past me, I calmly cut all ties with Marvin. This hidden marriage had come to an end.

Two months into my cold war with Sean, the lover he’d been keeping finally danced her way right up to me, the real deal. Everyone expected me to react the same way I always had before, kicking up a huge scene to stake my claim. Instead, I looked at the intimate photos of Sean and her in the group chat, smiled, and sent them my blessing. [Looking good. Wishing you two a long and happy life.] The chat went dead silent. Sean must’ve sobered up from his little paradise because in the middle of the night, he drove home and pounded on my door. He was furious. “Do you think this is funny?” However, I only met his gaze calmly. “Honestly, after all these years, none of it is.”

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

I'd been married to my lawyer husband for eight years. In all that time, he never once acknowledged me as his wife in public. He wouldn't even let our daughter call him "Dad." Again and again, he missed out on her childhood because of his childhood sweetheart. Even when she hurt our daughter, he still forgave her. I was worn out and empty. So I decided to leave. I took our daughter and vanished from his world. But he refused the divorce. He started searching for us like a madman, turning the whole world upside down. Only this time, neither my daughter nor I will be looking back.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.

I watched as my boyfriend put the ring that he had promised to give me on Sophie White's finger at her birthday party. When I questioned him, Mark Goodman shrugged nonchalantly. "I promised to marry Sophie. Since that's not happening now, the ring is compensation." I was left speechless from rage and so disenchanted that I decided to cut all ties with him. Everyone was cheering when Mark later showed up at a gathering with Sophie, both wearing a matching set of rings. But when they all thought I would make a scene, I smiled faintly. "You two really deserve each other. When are you getting married? Do send me an invite."

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?"