Melodramatic Romance Short Stories & Mistress Workplace Novels

At our company's annual team-building event, my team lost a game, and the group made my girlfriend pick someone to play a card-passing game with. It was the kind where you pass a piece of paper from mouth to mouth without using your hands. I stood up, trying not to look too eager. I thought this was finally my chance to make our secret relationship public. Instead, my girlfriend picked the new hire before I could even step forward. A gust of wind knocked the paper loose, and their lips met right there in front of everyone. The room erupted. "Look at Ms. Chase go. Ms. Untouchable really does have a thing for pretty young things." "I'll take a bite of that free relationship content, thank you very much." I sat there stunned until a coworker pushed a drink into my hand. "What are you spacing out for? Go toast Ms. Chase and her new boy toy." I stared at my girlfriend, unable to believe what I'd just seen. She turned away to shield her new hire from another round of shots, ignoring me completely again. With tears in my eyes, I downed the drink in one go. Then I accepted a job offer from our biggest competitor.

At our college reunion, I returned from running an errand for my boyfriend and found my best friend sitting in my place. My wineglass and plate had been cleared away and replaced with a fresh set. There was no trace that I had ever been there. When I came back, Serena Blake started to rise, but Adrian Bennett pressed her back into the chair. "She doesn't understand our casework anyway. She'd only sit here and smile along." No one else dared respond. Everyone knew my family had collapsed financially while I was in college, forcing me to leave school for a semester. Back then, Adrian and Serena were the law school's celebrated dream team, winning every difficult mock case they touched. After graduation, they rose together at an elite corporate firm, while I was dismissed as the little assistant who only got hired because I was Adrian's girlfriend. I stood there stupidly, unsure what to do. Adrian took the cigarettes I had bought for him and casually gave me another order. "Serena wants a milkshake. Go get her one." He did not even look at me before turning back to their conversation. As they talked and laughed without me, something inside me finally went quiet. I no longer wanted to chase the person I had spent years trying to catch.

I was an employee of Starmax Group, the country’s business giant, and the husband of its president, Willow Lawrence. To keep our love untainted, I refused every shortcut she offered me and stubbornly chose to work my way up from the bottom, determined to prove through my own abilities that I was worthy of her. Until Jasper White came along. He was more handsome than I was and had a more tragic past. The way he pretended to be strong easily brought out Willow’s instinct to protect him. Thus, Willow personally gave him the promotion meant for me at the most pivotal moment in my career. Afterward, she offered me hefty ‘compensation’. I did not argue or make a scene. I accepted it all with a smile, completely at peace with the outcome. Because from that moment on, Willow was no longer my lover. She was simply my ‘top-tier investor’ and a reliable ‘human ATM’.

My name and the name of my girlfriend's assistant, who was in a lower grade than us, were homophonic. His last name was Reid, whereas mine was Reed. Shawn Reid mixed up our names yet again at the joint bachelor-bachelorette party the office was throwing for Anne Nash and me. Everyone was cheering and jeering at us as the banner celebrating the end of Anne's and my singlehood was unfurled. Someone read it aloud. “Congratulations to Anne and Shawn. Wishing you eternal happiness together!” The private room was plunged into silence. Shawn spoke cautiously. “Sorry, Sean. I accidentally got it wrong again.” I said nothing and turned to look at Anne. She didn’t even bat an eyelash and instead comforted Shawn. “It’s no big deal. He won’t mind.” Then, she walked over to stand in front of Sean while she confronted me. Just like every other time, she shielded Shawn behind her, looking at me with the same warning gaze. “Sean, it’s only a banner. “Shawny didn’t do it on purpose. “After all, everyone knows today it’s about us. Don’t sweat the small stuff, alright?”

My fiancee, Lucinda Walker, always says that she hates waiting more than anything else. If the elevator takes more than 30 seconds, she takes the stairs. If there are more than three people in line, she turns around and leaves. So, every time I want to take her to the dessert shop with an hour-long wait, she frowns. "The greatest waste of time is waiting." Tonight, the company is having a team dinner, and I have arrived at the hotel lobby early to wait for her. From a distance, I see her walk out of the banquet hall. Her assistant, Jace Stetson, is by her side. Jace says he wants to try the bar's signature cocktail, but more than a dozen people are lined up. I thought Lucinda would suggest going somewhere else, just as she always does with me, and leave. However, she glances at the line, takes off her coat, and drapes it over his arm. Then, she says, "Sit down somewhere. I'll wait." Jace laughs and says that isn't necessary, but Lucinda has already taken her place at the back of the line. I sit on the sofa in the lobby and watch her quietly wait for 20 minutes. When she finally returns to him with the drinks, she even leans closer to ask if he wants ice. Then, my phone vibrates. I get a message from her. "The dinner is over. I'm heading straight home. Don't wait for me." I look up. Nearby, Lucinda is smiling at Jace. I type "Okay." But then, I delete it. Instead, I send "I won't wait." This time, I really mean it.

On the night of the company's semiannual appreciation dinner party, everyone exchanges little gifts in a blind-box-style game. However, Madeline Lively, the daughter of my fiancé's late mentor, walks straight up to me. "Open mine, Ciara." I glance at the card on her box, which reads, "Exclusively for the mistress." My brows furrow. But just as I'm about to decline, she tears the box open herself and shoves the contents right in my face. It's a marriage certificate—bearing the names of her and my fiancé, Keith Hummel! "I hope you like it!" The room instantly erupts into wild jeers and laughter. "Finally! I never thought I'd live to see Ms. Coleman wear something other than that sour expression!" "It's finally out in the open! That means I can officially call Maddy 'Mrs. Hummel' now, right?" I take a deep breath and turn to the man standing nearby, sipping his wine with a quiet, knowing smirk. "Explain." He finally looks up at me. "Explain what? My mentor died for me, and I'm indebted to him. His only dying wish was for Maddy to find a good man and have a secure future. All she wants is the title. The wedding is still yours." He says all that as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I let out a cold laugh. Come the day of the wedding, I slam a marriage certificate of my own right in front of his face. "Oh, he only wants the title, too," I say to Keith, referring to the man whose name is printed next to mine on the marriage certificate. "But unlike you, I actually want to give him a wedding."

Every year, Callum Walker gave me exactly five hours of his personal time. A meal with me cost forty minutes. A trip to visit my parents together cost two hours. Even sex was on the clock, starting the second he kissed me. Callum was the youngest senior partner at an elite white-shoe law firm, and his private consulting rate was 8,000 dollars an hour. I'd always assumed he was simply meticulous about his time. Then, at the firm's annual gala, Mia Garfield, the young lawyer he'd mentored himself, asked with a laugh, "Callum, how much time does your wife have left this year?" Callum glanced at his phone. "Seventeen minutes." Everyone in the room laughed. Mia tilted her head up at him. "What about me?" Callum ruffled her hair. "You're not on the clock. Dress shopping, late-night snacks, midnight movies... When have I ever kept time with you?" I swallowed the laughter filling the room and held on to those last seventeen minutes. A month later, my father, Russell Merriott, died suddenly of a heart attack. I used my final seventeen minutes to ask Callum to come with me to sign Dad's cremation authorization form. But I broke down afterward, clutched his sleeve, and kept him ten minutes longer. He didn't push me away. I thought that in the face of my father's death, he had finally made an exception for me. The next day, his secretary, Leon Barrymore, sent me a bill for 4,000 dollars. That same day, I pawned my wedding ring for 5,000 dollars. Four thousand went to settling the bill. The remaining thousand covered the first tuition installment at a language school abroad. This time, I wasn't going to waste any more of his time. Or any more of mine.

I completed my internship when someone caught me kissing my boyfriend and the director, James Porter, in the parking garage. A photo appeared in the company group chat soon after. To protect my chance at becoming a permanent employee, he denied everything in front of the entire office. "The woman in the photo isn't her. She's my childhood friend." His childhood friend stepped forward and took responsibility for the office‑romance rumor. She had one condition. James Porter had to complete 100 couple challenges with her. Once they finished all of them, she would clear our names and explain the truth. James held me in his arms and comforted me. "Baby, it's only 100 things. Once we're done, I'll make our relationship public." They reached the ninety‑ninth challenge when they lost the challenge book and had to start again. During the second round, they accidentally skipped one. During the third round, they decided to film the challenges. Before long, they became a couple‑content sensation. Millions of followers obsessed over them. Meanwhile, I went from intern to permanent employee. I waited from the age of twenty‑three until I turned twenty‑eight. Every time I reached my breaking point, James gave me the same answer. "Just a few more. Hang in there." On our fifth anniversary, I carried a cake to find him. Halfway there, my period cramps hit so hard that I collapsed into muddy water as a torrential downpour crashed around me. His car was parked in front of me. I felt too much pain to stand, and for once, I believed he would help me. He glanced at me, walked past me, and pulled his rain‑soaked childhood friend into his arms. She held up her phone with a grin. "Today's challenge is a boyfriend exclusively devoted to me for 24 hours. "If you touch her, we'll have to start again from challenge number one." James stayed silent for 2 seconds. Then he opened the car door for her. Just before the door closed, a message from him appeared on my phone. [Baby, it's the last day. Just hang in there a little longer.] That night, his childhood friend posted the hundredth and final couple challenge. In the video, she stood in a wedding dress and held out her hand to James. [Challenge 100: Marry the man who completed the first ninety‑nine challenges with me.] James did not deny it. He replied with a heart. I looked down at the cake, now ruined and soaking in muddy water, and I laughed. Five years. He still was not tired of playing this game. I was done waiting.

My wife, Jenna Wilkinson, has severe insomnia. She can't sleep if there's even the slightest noise. So after six years of marriage, I've gotten used to living quietly. Once it's past 9:00 pm, I don't turn on the TV, make phone calls, or even eat. I even tiptoe everywhere around the house. Whenever I watch her sleep peacefully, I always feel like all of it is worth it. That is, until one day, when I go to her office to drop off some documents and find the door slightly ajar. Her secretary, Derek Herman, is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, eating chips while a variety show plays at full volume. As for Jenna, she is asleep on the couch. When Derek tries to turn down the volume, Jenna runs her fingers through his hair with her eyes closed, saying, "Don't turn it down. I actually sleep better with a little noise." Standing outside the door, I think back to the terrible cold I had last month. I was so afraid my coughing would wake her that I buried my face in my pillow to muffle my coughs all night. The next morning, she frowned at me. "Lance, you were breathing so loudly last night that I couldn't sleep a wink. Be more careful next time." As the crunching of chips blended with Jenna's steady breathing, I slowly backed away. It turns out she never needed silence to sleep. She simply needs someone, and that someone isn't me. From then on, I never disturbed her sleep again.

Derek Bouchard and I kept our relationship secret for eight years. Over the long holiday weekend, I finally persuaded him to take me to a concert. When the arena's kiss cam randomly picked us out of the crowd, I turned to him with a delighted smile. He immediately whipped his head away, dodging the camera. My smile froze. That night, the clip went viral. Everyone was speculating that I was his kept mistress. One of the most-liked comments read: "I know them. He's her boss. They've been dating secretly for years. Poor thing, she's the one doing all the dirty work, staying at the office until the early hours. After eight years, she's still just a team lead. "They even shipped her off to some remote overseas office for three years. Said it was to avoid favoritism, but really his first love had come back and he wanted her out of the way." I stopped breathing. I couldn't believe my eyes. My fingers trembled as I scrolled. "Then why didn't he date his first love?" someone asked. "She's against marriage. He wants a family and an heir." Another commenter added, "It gets worse. He rejected countless proposals she worked on, then passed them all to his first love. That woman built a glittering career at another company using her work." A chill ran through me. So that was why Derek kept assigning me inexplicable tasks. Why even the proposals I'd revised to perfection were rejected. I'd been building someone else's career all along. I scrolled again, but the entire video had vanished. I knew whose doing that was. I drew a long breath and called Derek. "Aren't you going to explain any of this?"

Phoebe Marsh had carelessly submitted the wrong quotation, causing the company to suffer a massive loss and leaving us facing enormous compensation claims. To win the contract back, I attended what was basically a trap disguised as a dinner to apologize on the company's behalf. I was forced to drink until my stomach bled, enduring humiliation after humiliation just to smooth everything over. After the matter was settled, Phoebe comforted me and promised that one day, she would give me a grand wedding. But the day before our wedding, she showed up in a wedding gown and threw herself into Julian Stratford's arms instead. When I demanded an explanation, she brushed it off casually. "You were just some nobody who clawed his way out of a backwater village. What made you think I'd actually choose you? Besides, Julian is the general manager's son. The difference between you two is night and day. But if you really can't let me go, I guess I wouldn't mind keeping you around." Phoebe actually wanted me to be her lover. That slap ended everything between us. I turned around and agreed to marry the Grey family's heiress—my childhood sweetheart. What I never expected was that our weddings would be held on the same day, in the same hotel. As I stepped through the hotel entrance, Phoebe arrived with a crowd of our former coworkers and blocked my path. "Cassian Frost, you actually came to crash my wedding? Let me make this clear—I won't let anyone ruin my perfect wedding with Julian. Since you insist on embarrassing yourself, you'd better apologize to Julian and beg for his forgiveness." The crowd immediately burst into jeers and cheers. Phoebe kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground. She even stripped off my clothes to humiliate me in public. Only when Evelyne Grey arrived did Phoebe instantly switch to a flattering smile. "Ms. Grey, my ex-boyfriend completely lost his mind. He actually claimed to be your husband. But don't worry, I already dealt with him. About that Upper Hollow contract… Do you think we can sign it now?"

After saving money with Justin Pierre for five years, we finally went to view a house. My best friend, Maria Houston, came along too. "The master bedroom needs a walk-in closet. Can we knock down this wall?" she asked Justin while pointing at the floor plan I had been looking at for the past six months. "I'll get a designer to take a look tomorrow. You can change it however you want." The two of them discussed everything, from the direction the apartment faced to the tiles, from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the bathtub. Meanwhile, I stood in the corner, unable to get a word in. When it was time to sign the papers, he seemed to suddenly remember I was here and said, "We'll put this place under Maria's name for now. She's here all by herself, so consider it a company benefit. The company is a little tight on cash lately. You can keep renting for another two years." However, I had also left my hometown behind to build a life with him from nothing five years ago. Back then, we had squeezed into a tiny apartment without even air-conditioning, and he had made me a promise with absolute certainty. "Once the company takes off, the first thing I'll do is give you a home." Now that the company had finally succeeded, the first home he bought was for someone else. I stared at the two signatures side by side on the contract and realized there was no place for my name. Since he had already planned a future that did not include me, I was not going to wait for him anymore. Thinking about it, I opened the page to terminate my lease and confirmed it.

It's the company's eighth-anniversary celebration. From the corner of the parking lot, I catch sight of my close friend, Leroy Parks, stepping out of the passenger seat of my girlfriend's car. My girlfriend, Kristen Fox, then leans over and helps him fix his tie. He grins lightly at her. I just tighten my grip on the cashmere shawl that I had bought for my future mother-in-law, Cindy Holt, and turn to leave. From the doorway leading backstage, I hear her voice saying, "The wedding rehearsal is all set. Since everyone is also here today, let's just go public with your relationship with Leroy." Kristen speaks in a low, suppressed voice. "Mom! Keep your voice down!" However, Cindy raises her voice and speaks even louder than before. "It's even better if Joshua hears it! He's just a gigolo! Leroy's a hundred times better than him!" "Hey, Joshua." I hear my colleague, Mitchell Davis, calling out to me from behind. I turn back and see my resignation letter being displayed on his phone screen. He locks the screen and turns to me with a smile. "Everyone in the company already knows about Kris and Roy. We just kept it to ourselves because we didn't want you to be upset about it. But surely you've already felt it for a while, haven't you? "You should know that Roy is more suitable for Kris than you'll ever be. You're a smart guy. It's better for everyone if you'd just let go of her and stop making things awkward for everyone." I don't say a word. The cashmere shawl in my hands falls to the ground. Kristen had cheated on me with my best friend since the third year of her company's inception. And everyone had already decided that Leroy was a better match for her than me… But I was the last one to know about it.

"Mr. Austine, Ms. Weinstein signed off on your resignation, but she didn't realize it was yours. Should I tell her?" Aaron Austine looked down. "No. Leave it." "You've been her secretary for four years. You're her go-to. Are you sure you want to quit?" The HR rep kept pushing. Aaron just smiled. "She'll manage. My parents aren't in great health, so I'm moving back home. I want to meet someone and settle down. She approved it, so I'll hand things off and leave in a month. Thanks." He hung up and got back to packing. Three years in this mansion. His stuff fell somewhere between barely anything and way too much. He kept what he needed and tossed the rest. As the room emptied, he paused. The memories came flooding back.

Five days after I saved my girlfriend from an unhinged, violent patient, the wound on my arm tore open and got infected again. I wanted her to drive me to the hospital, but she spared me a glance before refusing, citing the need to avoid her being seen treating family. Left with no choice, I took a cab to the hospital by myself. Dizzy and weak from a burning fever, I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs, injuring my foot in the fall. At that exact moment, my supposedly busy girlfriend, Stella Sloan, was gently supporting her young male intern and passing right by me to cut in line for emergency treatment. A nearby nurse quickly tried to smooth things over for her. “Dr. Sloan takes great care of all the new hires. Don’t worry, she’ll come and get you as soon as she’s done.” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. She had registered me as a patient thirty-three times, yet my own girlfriend had never once picked up my medical chart. “Forget it. Don’t bother.” I stared up at the blinding glare of the fluorescent lights above. My ticket home was booked for two days from now, and my resignation letter had been approved. Stella, you and I are officially over.