Tragic Love Romance 短篇故事與 Mistress Workplace 小說

My girlfriend, Olivia, had one way of measuring how much I loved her: how fast I replied. In the two years we dated, she blocked me 88 times. The first time, I was in the shower and missed her call. The 17th time, I was bringing her coffee when I missed a message asking for extra ice. The 56th time, I was at dinner with a client and didn't respond quickly enough to a video she'd sent me. This time, I worked until ten and missed the 9:50 p.m. movie she'd asked me to see with her. I told her there was a problem with the project and my manager wouldn't let me leave. She just laughed. "Anyone who really loves me would make it to a movie even with ten minutes' notice." When I got home that night, she'd changed the door code and removed my fingerprint from the lock. I sat outside all night. After work the next day, I went to her favorite jeweler and bought the necklace she'd wanted for the past three months. I kept telling myself I hadn't done enough. I just needed to do a better job balancing work and our relationship. She was in the shower when I got home. Her phone lit up on the dining table. A notification from a group chat called "Do Not Bring Him Tonight" flashed across the screen. Olivia, her childhood friend Ethan, and my best friend Daniel were all in it. Daniel had sent a voice message. "Olivia, I'll keep Chris at work late again tomorrow. Let's see if he chooses overtime or you." Ethan replied almost immediately with a laugh. "I found another beautiful piece of jewelry. It costs three times his salary. Send it to him and see if he chooses his paycheck or you." That was when I finally understood. I hadn't failed to prove that I loved her. They'd been setting me up to fail from the beginning. And if that was how things really were, I was done.

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?"

My husband and his employees went on a camping trip, and his assistant posted on social media. [We drew lots for the tents, and guess who ended up with the handsome CEO!] The post showed a selfie she took. Behind her, my husband was taking his shirt off. Someone left a comment. [A man and a woman alone together? Sounds juicy.] The assistant quickly replied with a smirking emoji. [I like a little excitement!] After I liked the post, it was deleted right away. Soon, my husband called me on video. In front of his crying assistant and several employees, he scolded, “Why did you like the post?! It was just a game! Don’t be so close-minded!” As I watched him hold the assistant in arms and comforted her, I quietly hung up. After ten years of loving Caelan Sullivan, I decided then and there to let go.

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?"

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.

My husband's cold, distant secretary, Ruby Kuntz, was so busy chasing a multimillion-dollar deal she hadn't even touched her food. Eric Tyler casually peeled three shrimp for her. Right in front of him, I called my lawyer. "Caleb, draft the divorce papers. I'm done." Eric looked at me like I'd lost it. He'd barely slept for days because of the contract. "You're divorcing me because I peeled three shrimp for Ruby?" "Yeah."

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.

I have an appointment with my client in 30 minutes to discuss a project. I'm just about to retrieve some important documents from the office when I realize there's no one around. I call the person in charge to ask what's going on, only for them to tell me, "The records room is locked. The entire company is off today." I'm utterly confused. "It's not a public holiday. Why isn't anyone working?" "It's… Mr. Harrington's decision," the person on the other end answers hesitantly. "He arranged a company outing today to celebrate Ms. Shaw's achievement." I'm stunned for a moment. "What achievement?" "Ms. Shaw just landed her first deal since joining the company. Mr. Harrington said this is great news and worth celebrating together." I almost laugh out loud. Joel Harrington is my husband, and Elodie Shaw is his first love. He recruits her into our company as soon as she's back in the country, claiming that it's only right to do so as a friend. The deal she lands brings in a profit of only a few tens of thousands, while the project I'm meeting my client to discuss in half an hour is worth millions in profit. "Where's the company outing being held?" I ask, suppressing my anger. The person goes silent for a moment before replying, "Right here at the office." I'm about to ask another question when a burst of laughter comes from outside the door. The next second, the office doors swing open. Joel and Elodie walk in side by side, standing so close that they're practically pressed against each other. Behind them, my colleagues follow with a cake, bouquets of flowers, and party poppers. A loud pop fills the air as confetti explodes above my head. The smiles on everyone's faces freeze the moment they see me.

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.

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.

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.

My CEO wife, Gianna Richmond, plans on finally publicly announcing our marriage after our company successfully secures funding. However, Shane Jagger, a junior colleague that she recently hired, suddenly takes the mic from her and bashfully says, "Ms. Richmond, I really didn't think that you would be making our relationship public so quickly. Aren't you spoiling me a little too much?" Gianna doesn't refute that. Instead, she arranges for him to work on a very important project to help him fast-track his growth. At once, all of her employees erupt in cheer and applause, praising them for being a match made in heaven. A long-time colleague, Henry Danson, notices that I'm not saying anything in response, so he whispers to me, "Hey, Brandon, aren't you usually really good at pleasantries and networking? Hurry up and show some support!" I decide not to make a fuss. Instead, I take off my project manager work badge and push it toward Shane instead, declaring, "I don't think just being part of the project is good enough for your status. You should be the project manager as well. Think of it as my gift to you for making your relationship public!"

After landing a major project for the company, I receive a ring from my girlfriend, Kiera Ripley. I happily share a picture of it on my socials, thinking she was finally going to announce our engagement. But Kiera's newly hired assistant, Trevor Horton, suddenly slaps me hard and overturns my entire work desk. "You're a director, for God's sake! Don't you feel the least bit ashamed, stealing the present my wife gave me?" Trevor snaps. Not only does Kiera not retort to Trevor's words, but she even says I am not fit for my position as director of the tech department. She then announces to all the staff that Trevor will be taking over the project I just secured for the company. Only then do I realize that the person Kiera wants to publicly announce as her boyfriend isn't me, but Trevor instead. All the staff immediately raise their phones to record me, enjoying the spectacle that is my misfortune. But instead of getting angry, I shove my nametag into Trevor's hands and say, "Since Mr. Horton will be taking over the project, you can take over my position as director as well. I wish you two a long and happy life together!"

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?”

To avoid being the topic of gossip, I could only use disposable items every time I went to my girlfriend, Erica Livingston's, house. She made me use disposable slippers in her house, and disposable utensils when we had our meals. Even when I stayed the night, she prepared disposable sheets for me. "If someone saw any of your things at my house, I wouldn't know how to explain it," she would tell me every time. "I'll get you everything you deserve once we go public." I waited three years for that to happen, and I had to enter her house every time as if I was a guest. This continued until one day, when she held a birthday party for her assistant, Ryan Strobe, at her house. When I opened the door, I saw Ryan taking out their matching house slippers from the shoe cabinet in her house. Erica's best friends arrived next and wore all of the other disposable house slippers available at her house. I was left standing by myself at the door. "You can come in barefoot. It's not cold in the summer," Erica said to me without looking up. It felt like she was calling out to a stranger to enter her house. I stared at the table, full of food, from afar, with utensils printed with Ryan's favorite anime character. In the far corner was a pair of cheap, disposable utensils that belonged to me, and I suddenly felt like everything I had with her was disposable as well. It was time that this love that was buried deep in secret should also be disposable to me, and I should throw it away now that I was done with 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."

As Vivian Hart's husband and deputy director, I worked every day of the year without a break. But when I took half a day off because my mother was hospitalized, Vivian accused me of putting my family ahead of the company. "You took time off for something that minor? As a deputy director, the business should come first." Her voice on the phone was colder than the hospital itself. At year-end, I was the only senior manager in the entire company who received no bonus. Vivian shut her office door and spoke as though she were comforting me. "You're my husband. You should be willing to put up with a little unfairness and set an example for everyone else. I'll make it up to you privately when things settle down." But the money never came. Instead, I discovered she'd secretly paid a $5,000 bonus to an intern who took time off every other week. Her excuse? "His family doesn't have much. He needs encouragement." She'd forgotten that I'd missed six holiday seasons with my mother to help Vivian build that company. And now my mother's hospital bills were still $5,000 short. So I decided to pull my investment out.

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.

As soon as Danielle Bradford has recovered from her postpartum period, she brings her baby to the county clerk's office to register for the baby's birth certificate. "My baby's full name is Taylor Gardner. Her father is Matthew Gardner." The employee types on the keyboard, but his brows draw tighter afterward. "The system has flagged another child with the same name under the same father." His words leave Danielle momentarily stunned. Thinking that her ears have deceived her, she blurts out, "That's impossible! Our baby has just turned one month old!" But Danielle feels her phone buzzing in her pocket before she can finish speaking. She taps on the screen, only to see a photo sent by Matthew's assistant, Meghan Landry. In the photo, Matthew has his left arm wrapped around Meghan's waist while carrying a five-year-old boy with his right arm. The three of them stand in front of a kindergarten's entrance with smiles so bright that they practically sting Danielle's eyes. On the boy's chest is a nametag that clearly says "Taylor Gardner".