Scumbag Romance の短編小説 & Cheating 小説

On my wedding day, my fiancé bailed. Sabina—his ex—had sent him a diary listing 77 things she'd done for him. Turns out she only dumped him because his family pushed her to. So, he ran back to her. While I was still reeling, Jacob—my fiancé's best friend—showed up. He got down on one knee, flashed a ring he'd clearly had ready, and said, "Yuna Auclair, I've liked you for a long time. Will you marry me?" I thought he was my person. But after the wedding, Jacob turned distant. Hot one second, ice-cold the next. Then I found a diary in his study. Just like the one Sabina had sent my ex. Page one hit like a truck: [Hurt Yuna Auclair seventy-seven times, and I'll break up with Gabriel and be with you.] Oh—and Gabriel? He was my ex.

I’m getting married, but my CEO fiancé, whom I had been engaged to for ten years, had no idea. Thanks to his new personal maid, the man has no time to spare for me. The two of them always shadowed one another, and they might as well be sleeping in the same bed. My fiancé even bought a yacht and brought her to the Arctic to see the aurora when she was in a bad mood, completely forgetting that we were supposed to be picking out wedding gowns that day. I spent the entire day waiting in that bridal shop, waiting for a man who would never show up. So I called my dad, “I’m marrying someone else.”

During the bridal pickup ritual, my maid of honor, Heather Monroe, locks me and Nicola Sanderson, my fiancé's best friend, in the same room. According to local tradition, the blindfolded groom must carry the woman he believes to be his bride to the bridal car. Afraid that my fiancé, Julian Bennett, might mistake me for someone else, I purposely wear the couple bracelet we've shared throughout our seven years together. But when Julian feels the bracelet on my wrist, he pauses for only a second before letting go. Then, he walks straight over to Nicola and sweeps her into his arms. Our family and friends burst into laughter. "Childhood sweethearts really do have the best chemistry!" "Julian, why don't you just switch brides today?" I chase Julian to the door and remind him that he's carrying the wrong person. But he only pulls Nicola closer. "I'm just following the rules. You should've spoken up earlier if you didn't want this to happen." The bridal car can only seat one bride. Julian helps Nicola into the car and hands her the bridal bouquet. Then, he tells me to take a taxi to the hotel on my own. Nicola's boyfriend, Larry Connell, can't bear to watch any longer. Without a word, he opens the door of another car for me. It's not until the wedding ceremony begins that Julian finally remembers me. He sends me a message, saying, "Stop messing around and come to the hotel now. We need to get married." I look up at Larry, who has been abandoned just like me, then turn off my phone. "Julian and Nicola want to marry the wrong people? Fine, then let's do the same, Larry."

Sean Porter and I had planned a romantic getaway to Bali island. Sean had booked a private villa at a resort overlooking the Indian Ocean. We were lying in bed, just about to get intimate, when we heard a rustling in the room. The next second, Serena Vaughn tumbled out of the closet! Terrified, I screamed at her. "How did you get in here?! Don't you know spying on people is illegal?! Get out right now, or I'm calling the cops!" Sean rushed to Serena's side and gently rubbed the angry red mark where she'd banged her shin, his face full of concern. Frowning, he told me to keep it down. "I gave Serena the door code. I'm the one who told her to hide in the closet and watch us. "She's a graduate student specializing in social psychology and romantic relationships. She needs these observations for her thesis. "Can you not overreact like this?" I froze. I couldn't believe Sean would use such a ridiculous excuse just to defend Serena. Suddenly I felt like I needed to rethink our whole relationship.

On the way to buy holiday groceries, I ran into an old classmate I had not seen in years. The moment he saw Stefan Adler, the first thing out of his mouth was, "Did you know Nadine Keller is back in the country?" I looked at Stefan by reflex, only to find him smiling at me too. "Overthinking again, babe? We have nothing to do with each other anymore." Then he turned to our old classmate and introduced me seriously. "This is Elise Bauer. She was the girl from the class next door back in college, and now she is my girlfriend." I had not really overthought it. After all, Stefan and Nadine had ended badly. She had blocked him in front of everyone, and for a long time afterward, Stefan's face would turn cold whenever anyone mentioned her. I went to the next aisle to pick out snacks while they caught up. When I came back, I happened to hear the old classmate say, "Actually, Nadine asked me for your contact information yesterday..."

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.

My boyfriend, Emmett Carr, and I lived less than five miles apart in the same city. However, we never met more than twice a month. Whenever I asked when he was free, he always said he was busy with a recent work project. That continued until I accidentally discovered his travel records. He had purchased flight tickets for 48 out of the 52 weekends of the past year. He was flying to the country where his childhood friend, Cherry Lewis. was studying abroad. He would leave on Saturday morning and return late Sunday night, rain or shine. He flew there like clockwork, even more disciplined than when he was going to the office. The most recent date we went on was yesterday, at a cafe below his office. He had gulped down his coffee quickly and checked his watch three times, claiming that he had to leave for a meeting. I smiled and did not expose him. It was his 49th time leaving to see his junior, but I did not call or text him. All I did was sign the lease agreement to transfer the house to someone else and buy a one-way ticket to another city. Emmett had willingly flown a few thousand miles to be someone else's backup boyfriend. All I wanted now was to leave for another city. I no longer wanted to wait on his promises to take me out 'next week' that never came true.

My husband, Ezra, and I had been married for four years. Every year for the past four years, he would disappear for three days at the same time and transfer a large sum of money out of his bank account. I suspected he was doing it for an unforgettable ex. Yet, no matter how hard I investigated, I couldn’t find a single clue. “I don’t have any exes worth hiding from you," Ezra once told me. “Olivia, can you please stop digging into this?” That was until this past weekend, when I went to deliver an early birthday present to Nina—a young woman I had been financially supporting for eight years. The moment I inserted my key into the lock, I heard Ezra’s voice coming from inside. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, but I can only stay with you for half the day this time. We can’t afford to make her suspicious again.” Nina chuckled. “Olivia hasn’t suspected me at all. What are you so afraid of?” Outside the door, I held the gift in my hands, tears streaming down my face. My intuition had been right all along. The only difference was that he was cheating on me with the person I had personally funded and cared for over the last eight years. I knew right then that our four-year marriage was over.

My husband, Michael Grant's mistress, Lucy Lovelace, is demanding a break-up with him once again. Heartbroken, he drowns his sorrows with alcohol to the point that he has to get hospitalized due to stomach bleeding. Still, Michael keeps mumbling, "She's the only one who has the guts to treat me like this." Then, he grabs my hand and says, "Darling, you're a woman too. Tell me, how should I appease Lucy this time?" Well, Michael has cheated on me so many times. Lucy is the only one he's ever fallen for so far. My phone buzzes at that moment. It's a text from Lucy. "Mrs. Grant, please keep your husband in check! Don't you have any pride as a woman? Tell him to stop bothering me already!" I just smile mockingly. As always, I don't bother responding to Lucy. On the fifth day of Michael's hospitalization, he spams my phone with countless calls. When the latest call goes through, he questions me emotionally, "I'm hospitalized, you know! Why haven't you shown up at all? Do you even care about me as your husband?" I reply calmly, "I'm worried that if I do show up, you'll fall in love with me again."

One day, I stood in line outside the fondue place for six hours. My boyfriend, Daryl McCabe, called. "Brooke wants Cajun food. Come meet us." Brooke Jennings was my best friend, and Daryl's ex-girlfriend. This was the thirty-fifth time Daryl had blown up our plans for her. He'd been talking about this fondue place for a month, but we could never get in, there were always too many people waiting. So I'd taken the day off and stood in line for six hours just to get us a table. Every ten minutes, I'd texted Daryl an update on how close we were to being called. Five minutes ago, I'd sent him the last one. My number was 3601. They were already calling 3595. I gripped the ticket in my hand. "Daryl, I took the day off. I've been standing here six hours. We're only six people away..." "I know," he cut in, impatient, "but Brooke wants Cajun food. We can do fondue some other time." The line went quiet for two seconds. Then his voice again, pushing. "We're literally five or six doors down from where you're standing. Just come over." I'd given in thirty-four times before this. Suddenly, none of it felt worth it anymore. "No. I want fondue." I hung up and sent my boss a text. [Vincent, I accept the overseas assignment to Zwinterland.]

In Kieran Chase's eyes, I was not his wife. I was a non-performing asset waiting to be liquidated. When I got sick and asked for help, he became impatient. He said, "This is a minor problem. You can handle it on your own. No need to tell anyone." When I broke down in tears, he reprimanded me. "Losing emotional control shows weakness. It exposes the fragility of our alliance. I'll have the PR team teach you emotional management." Even when I called for help after a car accident, he hung up. "Nothing about you is important enough to interrupt a transaction worth hundreds of millions." I spent seven days in the ICU fighting for my life. On my first day home, I found Kieran leaning over another woman, his voice suddenly soft and coaxing as he convinced her to take her medicine. He opened his mouth to explain. I smiled bitterly and handed him the papers I'd prepared long ago. My tone mirrored his perfectly. "Mr. Chase, regarding our marriage project, the return on investment is unacceptably low after comprehensive evaluation. I'm formally proposing we terminate our cooperation. "Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it."

It's the fifth year since I eloped with my boyfriend, Leonard Goodman, and he has gone bankrupt again. My father has tried his best to separate us. He has cut me off financially and left me to fend for myself. In the past five years, I've worked as a janitor and a street vendor. It has been an extremely rough time. But I'm doing all this to help Leonard start his business. I'm rooting for him to stabilize his income so that my father will give in and bless our marriage. However, throughout the past few years, all his attempts to start a business have ended in failure. This time, he's ten million dollars in debt. He looks at me with eyes full of remorse. "Rena, I'm so sorry for dragging you through five years of hardship without making you my wife." I shake my head and tell him it's okay and that I'm willing to go through everything with him. To help him pay off his debt, I secretly take on side jobs at a massage parlor without telling him. Today, I'm attending to a wealthy socialite. She earnestly instructs, "Make sure to watch your pressure during the massage. My body is naturally sensitive and delicate, so my skin bruises very easily. "My husband is a possessive man, and he only allows his marks to remain on my body. Last night, he couldn't control himself and left 108 hickeys on my body. He'll definitely be counting them later." When she finishes speaking, her phone on the table suddenly lights up. On her lock screen, the man holding her in a deep kiss is none other than my boyfriend of five years, Leonard himself.

Max Siegel loved me deeply and promised me the grandest wedding anyone had ever seen. However, just three days before the big day, everything changed. The custom-made wedding dress he'd ordered for me was given to his stepsister, Fawn Lewis, and instead, he handed me a pill—one that could erase memories. “Kate,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but Fawn has just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She doesn’t have long. Her last wish is to marry me. I can’t have her leave this world with regrets. “This pill will make you forget everything about us for a few days. But don’t worry. After the wedding is over, I’ll give you the antidote, and you’ll remember everything again. Then, I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Without hesitation, I took the pill and swallowed it. However, what he didn’t know was that I developed that drug myself, and there was no antidote. Three days from now, I would forget the man I loved most—him. And once that happens, there’s no turning back and no chance to start over.

For five years, Cora Mitchell had been secretly married to Ethan Caldwell, yet they maintained a strictly professional superior-subordinate relationship at work. During the day, they treated each other like any other boss and secretary. At night, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. No one knew they were husband and wife—until a video of Ethan pinning Cora against his office desk went viral. In the footage, Ethan gripped her waist with bloodshot eyes, his voice still hoarse with desire. “Cora, keep moaning. I love hearing you.” The video had barely surfaced when Cora was branded a homewrecker and dragged to the police station. One side of her face was swollen, and her clothes had been torn off, exposing bruises and marks all over her body. The people surrounding her pointed and sneered with contempt. “Have you heard? She’s a mistress! She used her position as his secretary to seduce Mr. Caldwell. She deserves whatever she gets, even if she’s beaten to death!” Cora struggled to defend herself. “I’m Ethan Caldwell’s wife, not his mistress!” A slap came out of nowhere, sending her stumbling back and nearly toppling to the ground. "Mr. Caldwell belongs with Madison Parker!"

After failing to get her fiance, Austin Langford, to sleep with her for the 99th time, Cara Reyes calls up her best friend, Jessica Hogan, and says, "Jess, I'm coming to Spark City to find you." Almost immediately, the sound of a chair slamming on the ground comes through from the other end of the line. Jessica's excited voice is then heard. "Cara! You've finally thought it through! I've told you a long time ago that Austin isn't good for you! He looks too weak!" Cara's red-rimmed eyes light up a little as she smiles. "Yeah. I've thought it through." "Don't be sad, Cara. Once you're in Spark City, I'll introduce you to a new foreign boyfriend with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and perfect body proportions. Their genes here are all top-notch, and you will definitely have a beautiful baby with them!" Nodding, Cara says, "Alright. Let me go and get my marriage certificate back first." After ending the call, Cara lies down in bed and falls asleep with a heavy heart. Sometime during midnight, someone pulls back the covers and slides in next to her, his warm body settling down just about an arm's length away from her. A short while later, Cara hears the rustling of clothes and the man panting softly beside her. Cara's body goes numb like she's just been electrocuted. However, she still slowly turns her head back to take a closer look.

On my first night after marrying into the wealthy Dickson family of Cornton, Jared Dickson makes me sign an agreement. It stipulates that every expense incurred after the marriage requires prior approval. He says, "Given the vast disparity in our family backgrounds, this is the only way to protect you from rumors and gossip out there." I readily agree. But everything changes when I'm pregnant and suffering from severe lower back pain. I send a payment request to Jared for an ergonomic chair I'd found on Amazon, costing just 88 dollars, but he rejects it immediately. "There's no need to waste money on a scam like that. You're only in pain because of your anxiety. You should learn to regulate your emotions instead." I feel a deep sense of powerlessness. Just then, I see that a charge for 780,000 dollars is deducted from the family fund account for Jared's round-the-world trip, and the people coming with him are his secretary, Selena Beech, and her family members. I clench my fists and laugh self-deprecatingly. So, Jared's insistence on "clear financial boundaries" applies only to me after all. I log out of the banking account and immediately book an appointment for an abortion at the hospital.

At a party hosted at our house, my husband sang a soul-stirring rendition of “Missing You Tonight". He poured his heart into it, his eyes misty and his voice raspy with emotion. I secretly recorded a video and posted it online. To my surprise, the video blew up. Hundreds of thousands of likes poured in, with the comment section overflowing with sympathy. Laughing, I handed my phone to my husband. “Jacob, you went viral.” The top-voted comment read: [Girl, I’m not one to stir up drama, but your husband looks like he’s nursing a broken heart.] I thought he’d just laugh it off with a half-hearted smile. Instead, he took the phone and looked me straight in the eye with dead seriousness. “You’re right, I am heartbroken. I fell for a younger girl, but she refuses to be my lover and is trying to break up with me.” The room fell silent. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just took my phone back and spoke in a flat, even tone. “That works out then. Let’s get a divorce. The young guy I’ve been seeing on the side has been throwing a fit, too, demanding I make things official with him.”

When Nathan comes to pick me up on the day of the wedding, he loses his footing and falls down a flight of stairs that's several feet high. He's not badly injured, but he bumps his head on the steps and ends up with jumbled memories. He mistakenly thinks that I am his first love, who had once hurt him. He reacts violently whenever he sees me. At this time, I found out that I am pregnant. The doctor says that the good news might be able to awaken his memories partially. I rush off to find him, holding the medical report. However, I accidentally overhear the conversation between him and his friends. "Nate is always full of ideas. Now he's even claiming that his memories are jumbled up! As long as you don't get bored, Olivia will never be able to force you to get married." "Don't spout nonsense. I do love Liv, and she's the only one that I'll ever love. I'll just have fun for half a month more before I settle down and get married." "Half a month? That isn't even enough time to flirt with all the female models at the club. Can you really be satisfied with that?" Nathan's expression turns cold as he snaps, "I'm not an irresponsible jerk. Liv and I have been together for so many years. "I'm definitely going to marry her. Call someone now! I want the one from yesterday with a tiny waist and a big bottom. It excites me to look at her!" Trembling, I tear up the notice from the hospital and turn to leave.

Everyone says that the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Landor, Prince Colin Livingston, loves me to the core. But on the day of court presentation, he bypasses me and presents the princess consort's diamond ring to my elder sister, Monique Payne, instead. However, I'm not the least bit upset. I even smile and congratulate Colin, saying, "I wish you and my sister a lifetime of happiness, Your Royal Highness." In my past life, I caught Colin rolling in the sheets with Monique when I was six months pregnant. I flew into a rage and accidentally killed her with a sword. Colin hated me for the rest of my life after that. When he finally ascended the throne, he posthumously crowned Monique as his Queen and even registered the many children I risked my life bearing for him under her name instead. I was heartbroken, requesting a royal decree to depose me as his wife. However, he tore up the royal edict and imprisoned me inside the palace instead. "You are my wife. And you will never escape me in this lifetime!" Ultimately, while I was still locked up in my room, our enemies ambushed and attacked the palace, setting fire to the place. And despite being struck down by numerous arrows, Colin still used every last ounce of his strength to protect me and save me from harm. Just before his death, he wiped away my tears with bloody hands and whispered into my ear, "Don't cry for me, Merry. I was the one who let you down in this lifetime. "But if there ever is a next life, I hope that you will let me be with Monique instead." I agreed in a trembling voice. But when I open my eyes again, I realize that I have gone back in time to the day the Crown Prince chooses the princess consort. So, I help him fulfill his wish this time.

Just before going to bed, I happen to come across a post titled, "What should I do if my husband has another family on the side?" I click into the post, driven by some strange impulse. It seems like the original poster's husband has been really busy this past year, frequently traveling to branch offices for work. He has been giving her more money for living expenses, though, so she suspects nothing at first, feeling grateful that he works hard to support the family. Everything changes when she comes across a post of a woman trying on a wedding dress. She immediately recognizes the man's hand and back in the photo as her husband's. She feels completely helpless about the whole situation, so she wants to ask the online users for their opinions. I scroll down, wanting to see what the scumbag she's talking about looks like, but a second later, I feel my blood run cold. I can tell that they're the exact photos I posted on my social media the week before, even with the mosaic filter applied.