Mistress Romance の短編小説 & Workplace 小説

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.

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."

Before we're transferred to the branch office, the headquarters holds a farewell party for everyone who's leaving. When it's time to take the group photo, I quietly make my way toward my secret girlfriend, Claire Brooks, hoping to get a picture with her that we can look back on someday. But just as I'm about to take my place beside her, Claire frowns and hurries over to stand to the left of my close friend, Charles Lawson. Seeing that, everyone else subtly shifts away from me, leaving me alone in the corner. I swallow my hurt and take the only spot left without saying a word. After that, we don't speak to each other again for the rest of the party, all in the name of maintaining professionalism. It isn't until we get home and I check the company group chat that I notice something strange about the transfer announcement. My name is nowhere on the list. I immediately message her to ask why, but her reply is the same as always. "It's to avoid any suspicion." Those few words have become her excuse for everything. Whenever she goes on a business trip, she always chooses Charles to accompany her. In every group photo and on her social media, he's the one standing by her side. She's even handed me off to someone else when I'm drunk so she can drive him home instead. I know she's the one who established the department's strict no-office-romance policy in the first place, but whether this relationship continues is ultimately my decision to make. I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh, realizing there's no longer any reason for us to keep our distance. After all, this time, she's the one who's pushed me away with her own hands.

On the day we succeed in securing a project worth a billion dollars, my girlfriend, the CEO, Vanessa Oswald, throws a celebration party. Amid the festivities, I hear Cameron Ingall, the project manager that Vanessa recently brought in, smugly tell everyone else, "There's no way he can be made the vice president. Ms. Oswald has told me she'll be sending him off to Fennoria to start a new branch there…" Snickering, I turn to Vanessa, who has arrived late, and tell her what I just heard. "Who knows where he heard that rumor from. How can I leave when we just closed the deal? I guess he doesn't know that we've been dating for ten years and are about to announce our engagement this evening!" However, with a remorseful expression, Vanessa takes my hand and says gently, "What he said is true, Shane. Now that the company is growing, it's the perfect time for us to expand into new markets. I know it'll be tough for you in Fennoria, but you're the only one in the company who can take the mantle. "You can let Cam handle the project we just won the bid for. He only recently joined the company and needs an achievement like this to bolster himself. You're already a well-known project manager in the industry anyway. What difference would just one little project make to you?" When she notices my unpleasant expression, she tries to placate me. "Relax. Once you come back, I'll make you a vice president and have a baby with you, okay?" I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. After tossing the ring I was going to use to propose to Vanessa this evening into the fountain, I call up Vanessa's business rival. "I hear you're a charitable woman, Ms. Stewart. Would you be willing to take me in, along with a one-billion-dollar project?"

At the space agency's awards ceremony, my husband gave the honor that should have been mine to his first love, who had just returned from overseas. He accused me of plagiarism and rescinded my promotion in front of everyone. Everyone thought I would argue and make a scene, but I simply smiled and personally placed my work badge around his first love's neck. "A new position calls for a celebration, doesn't it? Why not make it a wedding? I'd be happy to officiate." They didn't know that I was the only one capable of drawing the rocket's design blueprints. Even the resources keeping the project alive had been secured because of my reputation and connections. This time, I wanted to see whether she really was the brilliant overseas-trained expert they claimed she was—or merely a pretty face with nothing to back it up.

The night before the Fourth of July holiday, my husband gathered the entire company for what I thought would finally be our long-awaited public announcement. Instead, his clueless assistant burst into the room wearing a wedding dress. "Cameron, I'm here to marry you." He didn't turn her down. If anything, his eyes softened with unmistakable affection as he promoted her to vice president on the spot. The entire company erupted in cheers for their love story. When my coworkers noticed me standing frozen off to the side, one of them couldn't resist reminding me. "Stephanie, you've been with Mr. Cox for nine years. You can't let a moment this special pass without saying something!" I smiled, walked onto the stage, slipped off my wedding ring, and tossed it to Poppy Campbell. "What kind of wedding doesn't come with a ring? Here, take it."

To everyone else, Helen Hart was just Ronin Dudley's ignored, pregnant wife. In reality, she was a world-class interpreter who could dominate any international negotiation. Ronin Dudley thought the $50,000 she owed him would keep her trapped forever. Kelly Choney thought a few social media posts could ruin her. They were both wrong. With one bank card, Helen paid off the debt that had chained her down for years. With one divorce agreement, she ended a five-year marriage. She wanted no money. No excuses. And no love that came too late. When Ronin finally learned the truth, he fell apart. "I got revenge for you!" Helen smiled. "You're the one I hate most." Only after she stepped into the spotlight, shining brighter than ever, did he realize what he'd destroyed with his own hands. Not just his wife. His only shot at redemption.

For the first time ever since we got together, my boyfriend, Clarence Xenos, got angry with me because an eight-million-dollar company deal was ruined. In front of everyone, he belittled me and called me worthless. When we got home that night, he said in a cold corporate tone, “Work is work. There’s no ‘us’ in the office. You messed up, and that’s that.” An intern in our office, Naomi Smyth, texted me an apology. [Lucia, I’m so sorry. This was totally on me. But don’t worry, Clay got me a cupcake to cheer me up. It was actually pretty good. Do you want me to order one for you, too?] The next morning, Clarence habitually threw the breakfast I had prepared into the trash can. “How many times do I have to repeat myself? I don’t eat breakfast.” At work, my colleague, Zoey Thorpe, leaned in with a sly look and gossiped to me. “That new intern is so bold. She went up and talked to Mr. Xenos, and even bought him coffee and a sandwich. He not only ate them but also commented that they were delicious.” Whatever. I was beyond caring at that point. The person on my phone was still relentlessly trying to get me to be with him. [Look, if it doesn’t work out with him, I’m fine being the other guy. Just give me a chance, alright?] I pursed my lips and typed back. [There’s no need to be the other guy. You can just be my boyfriend.]

While packing Ethan's flight bag, I found a custom solo wings pin. The engraving on the back read: For Lark, to celebrate your first solo. Beneath the box sat the receipt for Skyler's flight school tuition, paid in full by Ethan, along with a photograph. In the photo, she was sitting in the pilot's seat. Ethan's gloved hand rested over hers on the control yoke. Seven years ago, I had sat in that same seat. Back then, I was one step away from my first solo flight, but Ethan talked me out of it again and again, always claiming it was "for my own good." He said flying was dangerous, that someone had to stay home and take care of things. I put down my logbook, pressed the wrinkles out of every one of his captain's uniforms, and spent seven years living by his flight schedule. Only now did I finally understand. It wasn't that he didn't want to take anyone flying. He just didn't want to take me. What made it even more absurd was that the night Skyler first flew through the clouds, I was alone in a hospital, losing our baby. I called him over a dozen times. At three in the morning, he finally called back, his voice flat and indifferent. "I just took Lark through the clouds. Next time something comes up, give me a heads-up." I put the wings pin back exactly where I found it, then pulled the crumpled ultrasound printout from the bottom of the drawer and tucked it inside the logbook that had been gathering dust for seven years. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to look back. He convinced me to leave the pilot's seat, then turned around and put another woman in the sky. So I would leave him and take back the sky that had always been mine.

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.

At a certain class reunion, the former class president brought out the time capsules everyone had written years ago and read them aloud one by one. When it was Harper Langley’s turn, he opened her note and read, [Marry Jayden as soon as possible.] The room immediately broke into teasing laughter. “You two must already be married. Why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” Before Harper could respond, the man sitting beside her spoke up with a smile. “She’s my boss now. She’s been busy building her company, so she hasn’t had time to get married. If any of you keep pressuring her to settle down and mess with my paycheck, you’re going to have a problem with me.” The speaker was Eugene Rowe. Back in school, he had been Harper’s obsessive pursuer, and she had deeply disliked him for it. He had since become her assistant. Harper did not deny anything. She simply took my hand and smiled, as gently as she always had. I pulled my hand away and smiled at everyone. “I’m getting married at the beginning of next month. You’re all invited.” Eugene’s face turned deathly pale. He stared at Harper in disbelief. She frowned and pulled out her phone. A moment later, my phone buzzed with a message. She texted: You didn’t have to lie to our classmates just to avoid embarrassment. My company is at a critical stage right now, so marriage can wait. I locked my phone without replying. I had not lied. I really was getting married at the beginning of next month. Harper was just not the bride.

The annual company party featured a couples' trivia contest. The grand prize was a weekend spa getaway for two. Michael looked at me but he turned and grabbed my best friend Gina’s hand. "Gina and I have better chemistry," he said. "We have a better shot at winning." The host asked the final question, "What is your partner’s biggest fear?" Michael didn’t hesitate. "The dark. She’s been terrified of the dark since childhood." He was answering for Gina. My biggest fear was heights. He had never once gotten it right. They won. The host teased, "With chemistry like that, are you sure you two aren't a couple?" Gina laughed and leaned playfully against his shoulder. "Oh, stop. We just wanted the prize." Michael didn't pull away. After the party, he handed the voucher to me. "Let’s go together." Before I could even answer, he added, "We should bring Gina, too. Her skin is sensitive. She can test the spa waters for us first." It was always like this. Every vacation, she stayed in the room first. Every restaurant, she tried the food first. Every new place we went, she had to experience it first. And with every "test," their connection only grew deeper. I slipped the voucher back into his hand. "You two go," I said. "No need to test it for me anymore.”

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.

"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.

I give up on my position as a higher-up in a listed company just so I can accompany my wife, Jennifer Hurley, to a rural area to carry out a cultural tourism project. I even help her secure subsidies from the government and transform that project into a state-recognized exemplary project. But the first thing Jennifer does right after becoming the main person in charge of the project is force me to quit. "I want to tender an application for this project to be recognized nationally. Unfortunately, as the main person in charge, my spouse isn't allowed to take on any roles in the business aspect. "Either you quit your job or get divorced. You should make your choice." I don't hesitate to quit my job on the spot. But after that, Jennifer has her assistant, Maurice Gould, take over my position immediately. Her reasoning is, "Young people know more about coming up with creative ways to promote cultural projects. Our project needs new blood." At the afterparty, Jennifer raises her wine glass and gives a grand speech on the project's success. It turns out that I'm the only one who gets kicked out after everything I've done.

On my wedding day, the car drops me off at the banquet hall's back service entrance. I'm the groom, yet they send me through the trash passage. Sabina York opens my door and orders me around like she always does. "You'll go in through the back, and I'll take Caleb through the front. We can't let our coworkers see us together." Before I can even respond, she drives away with Caleb Yeoman. I'm left standing alone in the filthy water. It's the 99th time she abandons me to keep people from talking. For eight years, we've kept our relationship under wraps. She says dating a coworker will hurt my reputation, so she uses her best friend Caleb as a cover for us at every turn. During company trips, Caleb gets the passenger seat beside her. Instead, I spend ten hours on a bus just to catch up with them on the way home. When our project succeeds, she promotes Caleb, who is my teammate. She then makes me, the most senior person on the team, report to him. Even our wedding invitation has Caleb's name on it. After eight years together, I still have no place in her life that she's willing to acknowledge. I keep telling myself she does all of this for my sake. I race through the trash passage, covered in filth, and make it inside with five minutes to spare. But Sabina is already walking down the aisle with Caleb, taking the place that should be mine. They exchange their vows at the same time, and the room erupts in cheers. "My favorite couple is finally married!" In that very moment, everything becomes clear. After eight years, I finally realize I'm the only person she ever wants to keep her distance from. So I give her exactly what she wants and remove myself from this blatant display of favoritism for good. The music starts up again, and the officiant announces the ring exchange. Sabina spots me and awkwardly turns toward me, holding out the ring. I just smile and pull my hand away when she secretly reaches for it. "You don't have to hide anymore. Go ahead and get married."

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.

During a game of Truth or Dare at a gathering with friends, my girlfriend, Bridget Ellison, loses. Her punishment is to buy coffee for everyone. Half an hour later, she returns carrying more than a dozen bags and starts handing out drinks with a smile. "Francis, you've been pulling all-nighters for two days straight. Here's your iced long black." "Daryl, you like java chip frappe with extra mocha sauce, right?" "And here's yours. Lemon black tea, no ice. You've ordered it hundreds of times." One by one, everyone gets their drink. By the time she reaches me, only an empty bag remains. Everyone at the table freezes. "Where's Aiden's drink?" She pushes her peach frappe toward me and says, "I forgot. He can just share mine." A friend immediately groans and complains, "It's the same every gathering. If you two want to show off how loving you are, can you at least come up with a new routine?" Everyone around us laughs and teases us, but I can't bring myself to even take a sip of the drink. I'm the only one who knows the truth. The display of affection is an act. In reality, she has truly forgotten to buy me a drink. After four years together, Bridget still can't remember that I'm allergic to peaches. I set the peach frappe back on the table. I've spent four years settling for less. Now, it's time for me to leave.

Despite Chuck Garrison cheating on me seven times, I forgive him. He willingly hurts me for his first love, Rebecca Kerry, even though we've been married for seven years. In the second year of his openly pursuing me, Chuck takes the blow in my stead when a robber tries to stab me. I then promise him that no matter what he does, I'll forgive him up to seven times. I don't expect his passionate love to change immediately after we get married. The first time happens on our wedding anniversary. Chuck lies to me, telling me that he has a meeting to attend. In reality, he goes to pick up Rebecca, who has just returned to the country. The second time happens when Rebecca lies about being sick. Chuck doesn't hesitate for even a second and leaves, even though he's celebrating my birthday with me. The third time happens when Chuck hires Rebecca as his assistant. I stumble upon them hugging and kissing each other when I turn the corner. The sixth time happens when I'm pregnant. An unexpected issue occurs, but Chuck is accompanying Rebecca, so there's no one to take care of me. In the end, I suffered a miscarriage. I spend countless nights crying alone after being neglected. I force myself to endure everything because of the promise I made. Out of the seven chances I promised Chuck, there is only one chance left. This time, Chuck orders me to transfer ownership of my company, Starlight Group, to Rebecca. I say nothing as I sign the acquisition contract, hiding a divorce agreement among the documents before handing the stack of papers to him. This is the last time, Chuck. We will not be seeing each other anymore.

My executive boyfriend, Marcus Winters, had always wanted the regional president seat. Then his favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, complained that I always got the spotlight, and he deliberately sabotaged my car. The crash broke both my hands, leaving me unable to compete in the design contest that could decide the board vote. He handed my entry slot to Sophie and expected me to accept it quietly. When I confronted him, he said it was only one competition and that, as design director, I should give younger employees a chance. To prove his "fairness," he stripped me of my director title and docked six months of my pay to compensate the team. Everyone waited for me to fight back. Instead, I nodded, calm and silent. Marcus was pleased. He promised that once his promotion came through, he would restore my position and publicly announce our relationship. I smiled coldly and told him we were done. I had already submitted my resignation. What Marcus did not know was that the board and I had made a private agreement: if I won the championship and secured the decisive vote, the person I named would become regional president. I had been preparing to name him. Now he had not only replaced me with Sophie, but also encouraged her to submit a fraudulent design. Once the contest ended, the only thing waiting for him was termination, a ruined career, and a bill he could never afford.