Mistress Romance Short Stories & Pregnancy Novels

Two weeks before my wedding to Alexander Hayes, he invites his friends over to our small home. During dinner, Alexander keeps groping me, whether intentionally or not. After they finish eating, I overhear their conversation as I clear the dishes and walk past the study. "Alex, Lydia's quite something. I touched her earlier, and her skin's so soft. She nearly pulled my soul out. "If you don't mind, let us guys have some fun with her once she pays off the debt for you. We'll help you cover the cost of whatever Kay wants." Alexander chuckles softly, his voice casual and careless. "Sure, I don't mind. I've been sleeping with her for so long, I'm already sick of her anyway. "Just make sure she doesn't rat us out to my grandpa... Actually, forget it. She's blind anyway, so she won't figure it out." For two years, I've devoted myself completely to taking care of Alexander, yet he's ready to throw me into other men's beds, using my body to settle his debts. I stand silently at the doorway, feeling absolutely nothing. Of course, I know that someone else has been replacing him for a year. The person who holds me close night after night isn't him, and the child in my belly isn't his either.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

Three months pregnant, Gwyneth Stone spotted a little boy's suit while browsing an upscale maternity and baby store. She rubbed her belly, her face glowing with happiness. "Excuse me, could you wrap this suit up for me?" Her husband, Preston Gallagher, hadn't had time to come with her, but he'd given her a black card and told her to buy whatever she wanted. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're closing early today. A VIP customer will be arriving shortly, and she's bought out everything in the store." Gwyneth froze, clutching the suit and reluctant to let it go. "Her husband personally bought out the entire store for her. I heard she just found out she's pregnant, and he's already spending this much on her. Who knows how much he'll spoil her from now on?" The clerk looked troubled. "So, about this suit—" Before she could finish, a familiar woman's voice came from behind Gwyneth. "Let her have it. My best friend is having a girl anyway, so she might as well take the boy's clothes." Gwyneth turned around, stunned to find her best friend, Rebecca Lynch, standing there. "Becca, what are you doing here?" she asked. Rebecca clearly hadn't expected to see her either. Her face instantly went pale. "What a coincidence, Gwen. I came... to buy something for your baby." "But I'm having a son." Rebecca had been right beside her at the prenatal checkup when the private doctor told Gwyneth she was having a boy. There was no way she could have forgotten. "I—" Before Rebecca could explain, another familiar voice echoed. "Honey, the baby's not even born yet, and you've already bought out the whole store for her?" It was their friend, Selene Somerset. And the man standing beside her was Gwyneth's husband.

My husband’s the only son of the richest man in Ivoneu. As for me, I’m an orphan. His parents objected to us being together. When I got pregnant, they got on a plane and came to collect us in person. After that, I posted a picture I took with my husband, captioned, [I’m so thankful for you. Our life is going to be perfect from now on.] Little did I know that the rich girl my husband had been dating online would confront me.  She beat me until I had a miscarriage, then she stepped on my belly and declared viciously, “You are a nasty seductress! That makes the baby inside you a bad seed, too! Purging the baby is my contribution to society! “It’s just a fetus, anyway. I have more than enough money to get away with it!”

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my cheeks burn as I dodge my husband, Ethan Grant, leaning in for a hungry kiss. I push him toward the nightstand for a rubber. What he doesn't know is that I've tucked a surprise in there, a positive pregnancy test. I can already see it, the way his whole face will light up the second he finds it. But the moment his hand goes for the drawer, his phone goes off. His best friend, Henry Miller, comes on the line in Danish. "Mr. Grant, how was last night? That new love couch our company rolled out is treating you okay?" Ethan lets out a low laugh and answers in Danish, "The massage feature's great. Saves me from having to rub Sandy's back myself." He still has me pulled tight against him, but his eyes look straight through me, like he's seeing someone else. "This stays between us. If my wife ever finds out I slept with her sister, I'm done." It feels like someone just put a knife through my chest. What they don't know is that I minored in Danish in college, so I catch every single word. I force myself to stay calm, but the arms I have looped around Ethan's neck won't stop shaking. At that moment, I stop hesitating and decide I'll take the offer from that international research project. Three days from now, I'll be gone from Ethan's world for good.

My younger sister was in a bad mood and went drinking at a bar, only to be dragged into a room by a few men. Not long after, she ended up pregnant. My husband, to protect her, actually suggested divorcing me so he could marry her instead. "Brooke only went to that bar because of me. I can't let people talk about her. Don't worry—once the baby is born and the paperwork is done, we'll remarry." I refused, but he heartlessly abandoned me, seven months pregnant, on the side of the highway. With my swollen belly, I walked for over an hour before finally making it off the road. There, I found my husband and my sister standing together, mocking me in my miserable state. "You wouldn't even help your own sister. Serves you right to suffer like this." "Noelle, don't be angry. I'm about to give birth, and Jensen only did it 'cause he was only worried about me." At that moment, I finally gave up completely. "Fine. Let's get divorced."

At the supermarket, a child slams into my pregnant belly. The pain is so intense that I collapse to the floor and cannot get back up. I groan, "My phone... Call my husband..." Only after giving the child a slap does the woman pick up my phone. Apologizing repeatedly, she searches my contacts for "Husband". She calls several times, but no one answers. "Don't panic. I'll have my husband come handle this," she says, taking out her own phone and calling her husband. He answers after the very first ring. "Honey, our son got into trouble again! Adjourn your meeting and get over here. He knocked into a pregnant woman!" Ten minutes later, Shawn Leake, who is supposed to be working in another city, arrives at the scene. The first thing he notices is the child's swollen cheek. A look of concern crosses his face as he frowns and searches the area. He grumbles, "Was it really necessary to hit him? Who exactly did he run into—" The moment our eyes meet, his voice cuts off abruptly.

On my fifth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Sutton, announces her pregnancy on her social media feed. "After going through artificial insemination for the 39th time, I finally got pregnant with your child as I wished." The accompanying photo features Rachel lacing fingers tightly with her first love, Damon Calloway. I leave a like on the photo calmly. Then, I give them my blessings. The next thing I know, Rachel calls me on the phone. She roars at me furiously, "Damon is diagnosed with cancer! What's wrong with me bearing a child for him? Garrett Whitaker, you're being too much right now!" I reply coolly, "Then come back and file for a divorce. Once the divorce is through, you can go ahead and find yourself a husband who won't 'become too much.'"