Melodramatic Romance Short Stories & Secretary Marriage Novels

After I exposed Scott Brophy's emotional affair online, I was ordered to post an apology video every day for fifteen days straight. [I should not have made your explicit chat logs with Ms. Kelsey Rowe public, and I should not have forgotten to blur them out.] [I should not have secretly recorded your flirty voice messages with Kelsey when I knew about them, and I should not have spread those recordings everywhere.] To show my "sincerity," I even included photos of the two of them along with their real names. ... Scott was furious and humiliated. Every time I posted a video, we'd end up in a huge fight. Then my thirteenth video went up. This time, I tagged his assistant, Kelsey, and offered her a "formal" apology. He stormed off in anger, yet to my surprise, he didn't lash out at me. I naively believed he was finally ready to admit his mistake and come back to our family for good. The next day, I cooked his favorite dishes and brought them to his office. The moment I pushed the door open, I was hit by the sound of intimate gasps and panting. Scott had his little assistant pinned down as she tried to get away, a nasty grin on his face. "Since we're already under suspicion, we might as well go all the way. Otherwise, the two of us are getting a raw deal." Seeing my eyes turn red, he sneered, "Who's to blame for this? You drove me to it." I stood there, frozen. It wasn't just Scott who was dirty now. Our seven-year marriage had been tainted too.

At the company's tenth-anniversary celebration, my wife's male secretary was in charge of the raffle. When it was time for the grand prize, he somehow drew his own name. My wife asked him what he wanted, and he pointed at the watch on my wrist. I flatly refused. How could a personal belonging be used as a prize? But the male secretary turned to my wife and whined, "That watch is a limited edition. There's only one in the world." My wife signaled for me to give the watch to him. I argued my case, but my wife slapped me across the face instead. "It's just a watch. Don't ruin the mood of the anniversary celebration." I smiled, took off the watch, and handed it to her secretary. It was a wedding gift from her that I had treasured for years, but now, I had decided to throw away both the watch and her.

Brad Harrington's executive assistant was having another depressive episode. He pulled out the divorce papers. "It's just paperwork," he said. "Once she's stable, we'll remarry immediately." I picked up the documents, skimmed a few pages, then looked up at him. "I'm walking away with nothing?" His face twisted with impatience. "It's a fake divorce. Are you really going to nickel-and-dime this?" I just smiled and said nothing. Quietly, I signed my name. What he didn't know — I had been waiting for this day for a very long time.