Cerita Pendek & Novel Scumbag Cheating

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.

Today was the day Quentin York had promised we'd finally go public. After five years of dating in secret, our relationship was finally going to see the light of day. I stayed up all night putting together a five-minute video from every photo we'd ever taken together. Then I posted it the moment the clock struck midnight on his birthday. But the second I hit send, I was suddenly kicked out of the account. By the time I logged back in, the video was gone. At the same time, a message from Quentin came through. "Your best friend just got dumped. Seeing your video will only make her feel worse. Be good, okay? Let's wait a little longer." Then a message from Lena Xavier popped up. "Can you please do something about him? I just got to the bar, and he suddenly showed up and forced me into his car. Seriously, he's unbelievable!" The two messages arrived one after the other. Just like every trip we'd ever taken together. They were always up front, while I trailed behind. This announcement was the last chance I was giving Quentin. Since he didn't want it, then forget it.

In the three years we've been married, Colin Luther never touches me once. Living in the room next door is Rebecca Jennings, his adopted younger sister with no blood relation to him. She supposedly suffers from severe androphobia. Whenever she sees any man other than Colin, she trembles uncontrollably. Whenever she has nightmares in the middle of the night, Colin immediately leaves me and rushes to her room. So, the master bedroom is given to her. I sleep on a folding bed in the study, and Colin sleeps on the floor outside her door to stand guard. Every week, my mother-in-law, Alicia Brooks, comes by with the soup she made herself. The first thing she does is go into Rebecca's room. Only after that does she spare me a glance. She says, "Nat, remember to hand-wash Becca's underwear. Her skin is sensitive, so it can't go in the washing machine." My father-in-law, Isaac Luther, is even worse. At our last family gathering, he slaps his thigh in front of their relatives and says, "If Becca weren't sick, I'd want her to be my daughter-in-law!" I simply smile while serving the dishes and say nothing. For three years, I endure everything in silence. But yesterday, I find two items hidden beneath Rebecca's pillow. There is the silk camisole that went missing six months ago and a pack of birth control pills with only two tablets left. Androphobia? Well, today is our third wedding anniversary. It's time for a proper celebration.

On my third wedding anniversary with Logan Archer, our housekeeper, Bianca Martinez, calls to tell us that she has to have both her legs amputated after saving Logan's grandmother from being hit by a truck. From that day on, Logan vows to take care of her. When she trembles from the excruciating pain, he shoves his arm into her mouth for her to bite on and stays by her side until she falls asleep. When she pounds her legs and berates herself for being so useless that she can't even go to the bathroom on her own, he rushes home from work, no matter how busy he is, to help her relieve herself. One day, when I tell Logan I'm pregnant, he looks at me wearily. "Get rid of it. Our main priority right now is to take good care of Bianca. We don't have time to raise a child." No matter how desperately I beg him, he still forces me to go to the hospital for an abortion. After lulling Bianca to sleep, he slips into my room and rasps out, "Honey, we owe Bee too much. Once she's all better, I'll definitely give you a child." Little does he know that, in my heart, he already belongs to my past, not my future.

Six years ago, when the Berlandi family accused Nico Valenti of leaking their financial records, I found the evidence that proved him innocent. When they still refused to take him back, I mortgaged my mother's restaurant and put everything I owned on the line for him. With my backing, Nico eventually became the person in charge of Saint Vito Port. He promised that at this year's council meeting, he would openly introduce me as his wife. But that night, I was stranded at Blackwater Docks. I called Nico for help twelve times. He never came. Instead, he was at the council giving my pin to my best friend, Bianca Rossi, and letting her take my seat as his wife. When Bianca finally answered my call, she smiled and turned the camera toward the crowded hall. "Alessia, you're good at handling things. I'm sure you'll figure it out." Then Nico accused me of being petty. "It's her first time at the council. Do you have to embarrass her in front of everyone?" I looked at the seven fresh stitches in my palm and laughed. Nico had built his career with my help. Bianca was enjoying a status she'd gotten through me. Yet somehow, I was still the one expected to step aside just because I could "handle it." I didn't argue. I called the registrar. "Strip them of everything tied to my name. Effective immediately." If Nico and Bianca truly believed they had gotten this far without me, it was time for me to take back everything I'd given them.

My name is Nina Brown. I've been married to Julian Hayes for seven years, ever since I left Sorrin for Capin. We can never eat the same meal. I love spicy food, but the second he smells spice, he slams his fork down. I made a spicy fish stew at home once. He smashed his plate and fork and gave me the cold shoulder for a month. After that, I quit making spicy food and learn to live on thin soup and bland food. Every day, for seven years, until my birthday. That day, I finish buying groceries and head home. Suddenly, the smell from a spicy stew shop stops me in my tracks. That is when I see Julian sitting beside a young woman. A pot of bright red chili stew sits in front of them. He's sweating from the heat, swallowing the food she feeds him like he's done it a hundred times. His lips are already swollen, but he still looks like he's enjoying it. I stand outside the glass window and breathe in the chili in the air. For the first time, it makes my stomach turn. It's not that he can't handle spicy food. He just won't eat it for me.

After she was intimate with her husband, Derrick Gladwin, Celine Clarkson headed to the bathroom to clean up. Then the closet door swung open. Jenny Dlay—Celine's best friend—popped out, laughing like crazy. "Wow, Cece. You act all innocent, but you still make that face when things get good? I'm dead." Jenny rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, mocking the way Celine had bitten her lip and trembled. Celine went pale and froze. Jenny didn't care. She strutted over, went up on her toes, and hooked an arm around Derrick's neck, her nails brushing through his Adam's apple. "Okay, Ricky. Didn't know you had that in you. You seriously wore her out." She smirked. "Almost feel bad for her." Derrick laughed and flicked her forehead. "Told you. You just didn't believe me." "Can you blame me? I thought you were all talk." Jenny grinned and tugged at his robe. "Guess I'll have to check for myself..."

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."

In the fifth year of my marriage with Lionel Kruger, I suddenly develop an ability to see everyone's ranking system. To my mom, I'm ranked first. To my best friend, I'm ranked second after her daughter. Even the owner of the breakfast cart in the neighborhood views me as his sixth favorite person in his life. Delighted, I rush off to see Lionel's ranking system. His mom ranks first, whereas Natalie Cooper is ranked second. That's me! I'm ranked second! That piece of news makes me smile throughout the day. That is, until I see an unfamiliar name taking up the sixth spot—Lindsay Sloan. I tell myself that it's fine. I'm ranked second, while she's ranked sixth. But the next few days, I witness Lindsey's name climbing slowly up the ranks to the point she's almost reaching my rank. That evening, Lionel comes home and hugs me as usual. "I missed you." As I stare at the ranking system above his head, I notice that Lindsay, who's now ranked third, is slowly climbing upward as he speaks. "Lionel, who's Lindsey Sloan?" At that moment, Lionel freezes up while hugging me.

I merely brought up the wedding decorations, and my fiancé's first love ran out of the room in tears. Ian Murray slapped me so hard I fell to the ground. His face twisted in fury, teeth clenched with hatred. "Daphne, are you that desperate to get married? Afraid no one else will want you, so you're clinging to me, forcing me into it? Our wedding next week is postponed!" I held my face, but not even a ripple stirred in my heart. This made the eighth time he'd postponed it. I had been waiting for him since I was twenty-eight. Now, in my early thirties, I was still getting nowhere closer to being married. So this time, I quietly packed my things and chose to leave. Maybe this marriage didn't need to happen after all.

Caleb Gallagher is still under the influence of anesthesia post-surgery when he calls out to his first love, Naomi Whitmore, while holding me. "I regret getting engaged to her, Naomi. It wasn't until after I left you that I realized I never stopped loving you. It's no big deal that I got stabbed while protecting you; I would have given up my life for you if you'd asked." A hush fills the room, and everyone looks at me with sympathy. I don't make a scene or throw a fit. Instead, I do Caleb a generous favor and call Naomi on the phone. "Come look after your husband. He is in surgery."

At a private spa retreat, my husband’s assistant brought me a glass of iced coffee. I was parched and about to drain it when a stream of comments appeared before my eyes. [Drink it, you wicked villainess! The coffee is laced with enough sleeping pills to knock you out. Don’t ruin the leads’ big moment!] [I’m dying. The male lead is sleeping with his sister-in-law right under the villainess’ nose.] [The leads are all over each other in the sauna! This is getting spicy!] Suspicious, I lowered the glass, and the comment stream erupted. [Why isn’t the villainess drinking it?!] Were they calling me the villainess? I glanced toward the sauna, then walked straight over to it. I pulled a floor cushion over, sat down outside the steaming wooden door, and called to a staff member, “Excuse me, could you turn up the heat? I want to sit here and sweat it out.” [What?! No! Our precious leads are going to be cooked alive!]

The sapphire bracelet my grandmother had left me, a flawless royal blue piece worth more than 4,000,000 dollars, turned up on Cecelia Swanson's social media. In the photo, the assistant, fresh out of college, raised a glass of champagne. Her smug caption made my skin crawl: [Thank you for spoiling me, Mr. Tavernier. The Professor said this bracelet alone could buy a few houses~] I sent Mason Tavernier a text. [Bring the bracelet back within two hours, or face the consequences.] He left me on Read. Two hours later, I sat staring at my phone, my finger hovering over the [Report to Police] button. Three seconds passed. Then the reception erupted into chaos. Through the venue's security cameras, I watched the police pin Cecelia against the champagne tower as spilled champagne soaked through her borrowed couture gown. They hadn't listened to reason. Thus, I would just have to teach them a lesson.

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.

The night before the design competition, my husband took my design draft, promising to secure a patent to protect my work. In the intense competition, my work stood out and won first place. During the award ceremony, I walked on stage wearing the necklace that my daughter and I had made together. Suddenly, my seven-year-old daughter rushed up to the stage, screaming, "Mom, how could you steal Veronica's necklace? That's horrible and embarrassing. Just come down and go home with me."

At the party celebrating the multimillion-dollar deal I've landed, my husband, Nick Ferguson, is about to announce my promotion and raise, but Ruby Holm, his secretary, deliberately interrupts him by feeding him her drink. My germaphobic husband doesn't even flinch. Without thinking, he puts the straw she has just used into his mouth. The employees immediately start teasing them, asking when they're getting married. Instead of denying it, Nick promotes Ruby to department manager. A coworker nudges my elbow. "Chloe, you've been with Mr. Ferguson for ten years. You're really not going to say anything?" I let out a cold laugh and toss my equity transfer agreement to Ruby. "Mr. Ferguson, don't be so stingy. A promotion isn't enough. Take these shares too. Consider them my wedding gift to the two of you!"

Seven years ago, it was love at first sight when I met Lucas Yates, who was still a nameless thug at the time. For him, I chose to leave my wealthy family. After seven years of dating, he throws me a grand wedding the day he finally becomes the head of Devil's Advocate, a mafia organization. On the day of our wedding, his childhood friend, Yelena Jackman, crashes the venue. She confesses her love for Lucas, but he rejects her without any hesitation, vowing he will only ever love me in this life. Just as we're exchanging rings, Lucas' enemies show up to cause trouble. When he sees the gun pointing at me, he lunges forward to protect me without a second thought. Yelena, who should have run, takes three bullets while protecting Lucas and falls into a coma due to severe blood loss. Overwhelmed by guilt, Lucas sends her to the best hospital in the world. I have the same blood type as Yelena, so in the attempt to save her life, I donate so much blood that I go into shock. Guilt leaves me with sleepless nights. Every day, I pray she'll wake up. I'm even willing to look after her for the rest of my life if I have to. Lucas keeps comforting me, saying that I don't need to feel so guilty, as Yelena did all of it of her own volition. He says he'll take up the responsibility of making it up to her. I'm extremely grateful to Yelena for saving Lucas and allowing me to have such a wonderful husband. However, on the day of our third wedding anniversary, I receive a mysterious message. "Lucille, you shameless homewrecker! I'm his lawfully wedded wife! If you know what's good for you, you'd better scram and go as far away as you can. If you don't believe me, you can always head to City Hall to see just who is registered as Lucas' lawful wife!"

When I walked out of the funeral home, the Perfect Wife app my boyfriend, Ryan Keller, developed popped up with its 99th penalty notification. [Perfect Wife Score: -3. Reason: Too many calls.] I opened the app. Three years' worth of deductions filled the screen. I lost a point for asking him to pick me up from work in the pouring rain. Apparently, that made me too dependent. Three more disappeared after a fight because I refused to admit I was wrong. According to the app, that made me dishonest. Then there were the ten points I lost because I once asked Mom to pretend she was sick for me. Apparently, that meant she had raised me badly. I scrolled through the list without feeling much of anything until I reached the one name that had always mattered more than mine. Claire Snyder. Ryan's ex-girlfriend, who apparently couldn't handle anything on her own. A pipe burst in her apartment, so Ryan rushed over to fix it. Her neighborhood lost power at night, so she needed him to stay with her. Even today, when Claire's mom twisted her ankle during a dance class, Claire called Ryan to drive them to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mom suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage. I called Ryan 58 times. Every call went straight to a busy signal. By the time I stopped calling, Mom's hand had already gone cold. Not long after, she was wheeled out of the hospital and into the funeral home. I flexed my stiff fingers and tapped "No Objection" for the first time. Claire's cloying prerecorded voice immediately played through my phone. "Congratulations! Looks like you've finally learned how to be understanding. That puts your Perfect Wife Score at 60, which means you're officially eligible to get married! Better make it to the courthouse within three days, though, or you'll lose your chance!" I stared at the screen for a second, then deleted the app. Three days from now, I really was going to the courthouse to get married. Just not with Ryan.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance's best friend, Penny Lynd, showed me a video, smiling as she said, "Hey, Lydia. I've already educated Aron for you. He's now a real stud, so enjoy!" I felt my breath leaving my lungs as they made love in the video, while Aron Quaker laughed, clapping her shoulder. "Where did you get that AI video? I only took your clothes off that one time." While he was laughing without a care, I felt like I'd just fallen into an abyss. Seeing me lose my cool, Penny laughed out loud too. "There! I knew it would upset Lydia! She's so dumb that she can't even tell that it's an AI video—and a bet's a bet! Starting today, we will be married for three days." It was only then that I understood. They made the AI video to bet if I would believe it, so that I would embarrass myself at my own wedding. And the wager was for Aron to be Penny's for three days! As the video continued, Aron turned to me, chuckling. "Don't worry. I lost the bet, but the wedding goes on as planned… Although you have to pick up your stuff from the bedroom and only come back three days later." He reached out to me, but I shook it off and took off my ring. "There's no 'later'. I'll get my stuff right now and let you guys have the wedding too. You're her husband now anyway, and you can't go without a wedding, can you?"

I was a soldier's wife. Less than two years into our marriage, I asked Lucian Summers for a divorce because I found a little handmade bracelet at home. It was not mine, and Lucian had never bought me cute little trinkets like this before. Lucian scoffed and said, "All because of that little thing?" I could not be bothered to explain this time, so I replied coldly, "Yeah. It's exactly because of that little thing."