Cerita Pendek Tragic Love & Novel Scumbag Cheating

After Dad’s affair, Mom began sprinkling flour into his underwear every day. “That way, it’s clean, and I can see the truth,” she murmured. Her face was deathly pale. Dad always stood by the bed with his head lowered, letting her do as she pleased. When he left the bedroom, he would catch my worried gaze and give me a gentle smile. “Ellie, your mom’s sick. She’s just playing a game with me.” However, that day, Dad was leaving for an out-of-town business trip. While packing, he quietly pulled out the flour-dusted pair and replaced it with a clean one. The moment Mom saw it, she snapped. She rushed over and grabbed his suitcase. “Why did you switch it?” she shrieked. “Are you going to see that divorced receptionist from your company again? Even after I marked it with flour, you still want to fool around with her. Aren’t you afraid something will go wrong down there?” Dad stumbled as she tugged at him. At last, he shoved her away. “I’m going to the hot springs resort to meet a client. How am I supposed to show up like this? Can’t you stop being so paranoid all the time?” Mom staggered back into the wardrobe, and her tears instantly spilled out. “If you weren’t so desperate that you’d go after anyone, even a woman with a child, I wouldn’t be so paranoid.” Dad’s face flushed with anger. “At least Jocelyn’s child was her ex-husband’s, unlike you, who expected me to raise the spawn of the man who assaulted you. If I’d been pickier, I never would’ve married you!” A sudden clap of thunder cracked outside. Mom went still, and she slowly lowered her outstretched hand. I curled up in the corner of the couch as tears slid down my face. I knew then that Mom had truly reached her breaking point.

My husband, Ethan Caldwell, has three mistresses who have no idea the others even exist. That is because I always make sure to plan his schedule. "On the 15th, you're going skiing with Lydia Bennett. On the 18th, you're taking Vivian Sinclair house hunting. On the 25th, you're flying to Derbin Isle with Jennifer Harrington to see the Northern Lights. I've already booked the tickets." After checking the three conversations he has pinned to the top of his phone, I recited his schedule to him as calmly as if I were discussing an ordinary business meeting. Without even looking up, Ethan says, "Add one more thing on the 20th. It's Vivi's dog's third birthday." I freeze for a moment but eventually add it to his schedule. The 20th is supposed to be the day he finally keeps his promise to give me the wedding we've never had. He has already postponed it 99 times, all for the sake of those three women. When I fall silent, Ethan pulls a silk scarf from one of the mountains of gift bags piled beside him and hands it to me. "Be good, Sienna. I promise this is the last time I'll postpone it." The scarf is actually part of Jennifer's gift package. I'm the one who goes to the boutique and places the order for him. I don't make a scene. I simply accept the scarf, then pull out the contract I've already reviewed and hand it to him to sign. Ethan seems pleased by my reaction. "You're finally starting to act like a proper wife from a wealthy family. Everyone in our circle envies me for having a fabulous wife like you. If you'd come to your senses two years ago, we wouldn't have had to keep postponing the wedding." I say nothing. I just watch as he signs his name. What he doesn't know is that I've slipped a divorce agreement into the stack of documents. The wedding I've been waiting for all these years is never going to happen. Someone else has already promised me the wedding I never get to have.

When I stopped by the supermarket to pick out cookie gifts for our trip home, I took photos of three flavors and sent them to our group chat. [Which ones do you want? I'll get them all at once.] My best friend, Kendra Dougherty, replied: [Anything is fine. I'm good with whatever.] My boyfriend, Damon Compton, replied: [Then I'll get the same ones she wants.] In the end, I bought three boxes of salted caramel cookies. But when I finally carried the identical boxes home, he gave me a helpless look and exchanged an amused smile with Kendra. "When Kendra says she's fine with anything, she doesn't actually mean anything. Her dad likes salted caramel, her mom likes chocolate fudge, and Kendra's absolute favorite is white chocolate macadamia." "You should've gotten one box of each flavor." I looked at the three boxes of cookies on the table and said nothing. In the five years I'd been with Damon, he'd always understood what Kendra really meant better than I did. Whenever we went out to eat and asked whether she wanted to sit on the inside or outside, she'd always say, "Whatever." But Damon would wordlessly save her a seat farther inside. I always ended up sitting by the aisle. When we were planning our graduation trip and asked whether we should go to Belford or Silver Ridge, she said "Whatever" again. Before I'd even made up my mind, Damon had already booked the tickets and planned the itinerary for Silver Ridge, exactly where Kendra wanted to go. But when I was hospitalized with a perforated stomach ulcer, and he asked whether I needed him to stay with me, I sulked and said, "Whatever." That time, he took me at my word. Every time Kendra said "Whatever," Damon somehow managed to figure out the perfect answer. But not once had he ever understood what I really meant. So there was no need for me to go out of my way to tell him we were breaking up.

On the day of my husband, Ruben Castille's funeral, a grief-stricken woman shows up at the venue. After putting down the white lilies, she doesn't walk away. Instead, she chooses to approach me. "Honestly speaking, I've been envious of you for 30 years." I frown at her in confusion. Her lips just quirk into a small smile as her gaze falls onto Ruben's portrait. Soon, her eyes redden out of emotion. "Over the past 30 years, he's given me everything, be it love, time, and money. On top of that, he's very generous, too." The woman pauses for a moment. She then tilts her head to look at me, her voice now tinged with resentment. "But his only condition is that I'm not allowed to cause any trouble in front of you." My heart skips a beat. "What do you mean by that?" The woman laughs in return. "You two were married for 30 years. Similarly, Ruben and I were together for 30 years. Ashlee Drayton, he had already betrayed you a long time ago." After that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me rooted to the spot while feeling my limbs going cold. My eyes go wide, and I begin breathing heavily. The betrayal and lies that have lasted for 30 years trigger me instantly, causing me to collapse at the venue. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ruben plans on proposing to me. "Ashlee, will you marry me?" I fall silent for a moment. Then, I accept the ring, only to throw it into a nearby drain without hesitation.

My fiancé, Jim Smith, had always been the kind of older brother who spoiled his younger sister. Harriet Smith, his adopted sister, was the first person he thought of whenever anything happened. When the craze for seasonal drinks swept through town, he was quick to buy Harriet the first one of the season. When he bought his first car outright, he saved the passenger seat for her to try first. Even when a fire broke out in our house in the middle of the night, his first instinct was to rush into Harriet's room and carry her downstairs. Only after he knew she was safe did he call to wake me. After I was injured in that fire, I finally lost my temper and demanded that he choose between Harriet and me. He looked genuinely confused. "Cecilia, Harriet and I have been through everything together since we were kids. She's just a kid. Why are you comparing yourself to her?" Then, as if he were offering me some perfectly reasonable solution, he added, "How about this? From now on, I promise I will treat you both equally. Okay?" I hesitated for a long time before finally agreeing. I had no idea that, later, the first wedding ring Jim had custom-made would go to Harriet. Even the wedding dress was no exception. Today was the day we had agreed to go to the county clerk's office and make our marriage official. Harriet came with us. The moment we arrived, she looked at Jim and said, "Jim, it's your first time doing this, so I wanna do it too."

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.

My fiancé, Everett Prescott, spent five whole years designing my wedding dress, and it finally arrived today. Except I couldn't zip it up. It stayed wide open until my best friend, Sienna Hart, slipped into the dress perfectly. The fabric hugged her curves like a second skin. She turned to my fiancé with an exasperated sigh. "Everett, are you serious? You got Leah’s size wrong. Again." My blood ran cold. Over the five years Everett and I had been together, this wasn't the first time he'd conveniently forgotten my measurements. When he bought me pajamas that were a size too small, he just blinked, flashing that easy grin of his. "Oh, wait. I think this is Sienna's size, right? Let's just give it to her. I'll buy you another set." When my engagement ring turned out to be too small, he scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "My bad. Well, we already bought it, so we might as well give it to Sienna. Lucky her." Our wedding was in two days, and once again, he got the measurements dead wrong. Everett rubbed his nose, giving a weak laugh. "Totally my fault, babe. My bad. I'll just take it back to the shop and get it altered." "Everett, altering a custom wedding dress takes at least six months," I said, my voice barely a whisper. He offered a helpless smile. "Well, you can't exactly walk down the aisle without a dress, right? Don't worry about it. As soon as the dress is altered, we'll have the wedding immediately. We've already waited five years. What's another six months?" Right then, my phone buzzed in my palm. [Sweetheart, the guy you have an arranged marriage with is flying back into the country in two days. I don't care what excuse you have this time. You’re coming home and marrying him!] I stared at the screen for a long time before replying: [Got it. I'll be there.] I spent five long years waiting around for this wedding. I'm not waiting another six months.

After I lost my five-year-old daughter, I slit my wrists for the 49th time in a haze of grief. My husband was bandaging the wound when he suddenly broke down. "You and our daughter got into that car accident because I put sleeping pills in your milk. "I've already stayed by your side through your treatment to atone for what I did. How much longer are you going to torture me?" I stared at Nicholas Halston, my eyes wide with disbelief. He took a deep breath, as if a weight had finally lifted from his shoulders. "The woman I've been seeing on the side for the past three years is actually your foster sister. "I drugged you because she wanted to do something reckless in the house that day. I was afraid you'd find out and divorce me. "I didn't know you'd leave the house afterward." The relief on his face felt like a rusted blade driven straight into my heart. After I drank the milk, the nanny rushed in to tell me our daughter had a high fever. I couldn't reach Nicholas, so I drove her to the hospital myself. Halfway there, drowsiness overwhelmed me. I slammed into an oncoming car, and our daughter died on the spot. Grief and guilt consumed me. I hated myself for the carelessness I believed had killed her. I never imagined that Nicholas and Rosalind Sommers were the true culprits. I laughed and cried like I'd lost my mind. Nicholas spoke again, his voice heavy with endless exhaustion. "Whether you want to have another child and start fresh or keep trying to kill yourself, that's up to you." The next second, his phone lit up with a pregnancy test report from Rosalind.

Two months into my cold war with Sean, the lover he’d been keeping finally danced her way right up to me, the real deal. Everyone expected me to react the same way I always had before, kicking up a huge scene to stake my claim. Instead, I looked at the intimate photos of Sean and her in the group chat, smiled, and sent them my blessing. [Looking good. Wishing you two a long and happy life.] The chat went dead silent. Sean must’ve sobered up from his little paradise because in the middle of the night, he drove home and pounded on my door. He was furious. “Do you think this is funny?” However, I only met his gaze calmly. “Honestly, after all these years, none of it is.”

My boyfriend, Simon Hepworth, gets down on one knee for the 66th time. Moved by his persistence, I finally say yes. But on the eve of our wedding, he drops a bombshell on me. He tells me he wants to have a child with his stepsister, Fiona Hepworth. I find it ridiculous and get into a huge fight with him. But I never could've imagined what would come next. On our wedding day, I wait at the altar for three hours, bouquet in my hands, only for him to dismissively tell me that the wedding is postponed. All because he and Fiona have an IVF appointment that very day. "Fiona was abused by her father growing up. She'll never be able to marry," he explains. "I just want to help her fulfill her dream of being a mother. It's just IVF. It's not like we're actually sleeping together. Stop being so sensitive." He then hangs up, leaving me alone at the wedding under the gaze of countless guests and flashing media cameras. The shock sends my father into the ICU. Standing by his bedside, I make a vow. "Dad, you were right. I won't marry Simon. Next week, I'll come home and take over the family business."

On the way home after learning I was pregnant, my husband, Christopher Monroe, the director of a research institute, suddenly breaks the silence. "There's something I need to tell you." What he says next leaves me stunned. "My widowed sister-in-law is pregnant with my child, too." The smile on my face freezes. I stare at him as he pulls a prenatal examination report from his pocket. It isn't mine. His voice is so calm that it sends a chill down my spine. "That day, you had a high fever and fell asleep in the back seat. We screwed like rabbits in the driver's seat, right where you're sitting now." In an instant, it feels as though I'm plunged into an icy abyss. I open my mouth, but no words come out, as though something is lodged in my throat. Christopher glances down at my slightly rounded belly before delivering his next blow, each word cutting deeper than a knife. "I only intend to have one child. Everything I can offer, from financial support to connections and opportunities, will go to Serena's child. If you choose to have this baby, you'll be raising it without any help from me. "Now that I've told you the truth, whether you keep the baby is entirely up to you."

To the Moretti family, I'm nothing more than the Don's trophy wife of five years. Five years into our marriage, I found a used condom in his study. We were trying for a baby, so we never kept condoms in the house. I was still staring at it when Alessandro Moretti walked up behind me. "Olivia, Daisy is back in the country. We slept together last night." Daisy Ward was his first love. On her first night back, Alessandro had brought her straight into our home. He picked up the condom and tossed it back into the trash. "I promised Daisy I'd marry her in three days." I turned to him in shock. "So you want a divorce?" He answered without hesitation, "Olivia, I'm not leaving you. I just want to make up for the one regret I've carried all these years." Before he could mention divorce, I beat him to it. "I understand. I'll move out tomorrow. We should start the divorce process too." Alessandro froze. He clearly hadn't expected me to take it so calmly. "Don't worry. I won't shortchange you after the divorce. You'll get fifty million dollars and all my shares in the Sicily Group." I smiled and nodded. That night, I sent a message to my hacker friend, Nina. "Once the assets clear, get me a new identity." Alessandro, I gave you five years of my life, but I was never the woman you chose first.

Simon Quinn was a man who clawed his way out of hell. Cold and ruthless, he feared nothing, except Yara Shaw. She was only fourteen when she took odd jobs and slowly raised him. Yara was the only person he believed in. Later, Simon gave Yara a love story the entire city envied. She believed in their love completely, until she lost three babies, one after another. The first time, a mysterious car accident caused her to miscarry from severe bleeding. The second time, a fire broke out in their home in the middle of the night. It left her disfigured and cost her another baby. The third time, a kidnapper stabbed her in the abdomen. When she was rescued, the baby was gone, and she had a divorce decree in her hand. On the night she was discharged from the hospital, she heard her husband say with a bitter laugh, "Cindy is the only one I love. Yara is family to me, nothing more. Why would I let her have my child?" Yara couldn't stop vomiting. In the end, she arranged to have her memories erased one month later.

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

My fiancé sent me overseas and immediately burned my wallet, threw away my phone, and tore up my visa. He did it all to make sure I couldn't return home and ruin his wedding to his first love. His friends tried to warn him. "Don't go too far. What if your fiancée really gets angry?" But my fiancé didn't care at all. "She's gotten too spoiled because I've always treated her too well. I'm just teaching her to be more understanding. Besides, Yvonne and I aren't really getting married. I'm only doing this so her dying grandmother can pass away without regrets. Nothing will happen between us. Once the wedding is over, I'll make it up to Winnie." The moment his wedding ended, he rushed to find me and apologize. But he never got the chance to see me. Later, he even took my documents and planned to register our marriage first as a way to make it up to me. It seemed he truly had no idea that I had already died the night he sent me overseas.

The pair of pink diamonds I've had my eye on for the longest time is finally auctioned off for a staggering price. Outside the auction hall, the young woman who won the bid is talking sweetly to someone on the phone. "Babe, you really don't have to come all the way here. Margot will be with me, so I'm good… Okay, fine. Love you!" I watch her with slight envy. Those pink diamonds are supposed to be my fifth-anniversary wedding gift. Before the auction, I've called my husband, Gabriel Hudson, and asked if he could come with me. But he said it was a trivial matter and that I could handle the bidding myself. The woman was on the phone earlier, and from what I could make out, they're planning to have dinner together to celebrate. My rideshare arrives. I'm about to leave when the woman suddenly shouts excitedly, "Margot, over here!" I follow her gaze. The person approaching is none other than my housekeeper, Margot Lawrence.

The eighth time I catch Philip Mumford cheating on me, he pours a bottle of concentrated disinfectant over his groin. "Happy now?" Amid the wreckage, his face is deathly pale as he looks at me like I'm the one who has lost my mind. It's the first time he's ever backed down. I stand frozen, clutching a piece of broken porcelain, suddenly feeling completely lost. During our worst fight, I strap dynamite to myself and his mistress, forcing him to choose between us. In response, he has himself and my parents tied to five semitrucks chained together, then smiles and asks if I still want him to choose. That's how we spent ten years torturing each other, neither of us willing to give in, back down, or walk away. Now, he looks at me with something close to pity. "Leave Vivian alone," he says. "She's normal, not crazy like you. Punish me all you want—just leave her out of it." I stare at him. "What do you mean?" A faint, tired smile touches his lips. "It means I'm giving up. Happy now? Isn't this what you wanted all along?" Yes, he's giving up. But it's obvious who he's doing it for. The hatred burning in his eyes makes the past ten years feel like a cruel joke I played on myself. At that moment, a wave of helplessness washes over me. Suddenly, I just want us to let each other go.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

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.

After I got pregnant, Severin Voss went from a ruthless Don to a devoted husband who cooked for me. He cut off all contact with Vivian Lane and banished her from Voss territory. He had never liked children, yet now he shadowed the estate's most experienced housekeeper every day, learning how to care for a baby. He even learned how to cook for an expectant mother. He had a prenatal meal plan tailored to my needs and prepared every dish himself. It was as if he'd never had anything to do with Vivian, as if we were still as close as ever. When my mother came to visit, she marveled, "There's never been a Don in all of Sicily who's such a family man. "You should consider yourself lucky to have married him. Stop dwelling on his past mistakes." I smiled and agreed, then ate the lunch Severin had made just for me. An hour later, I was rushed to a private hospital, doubled over in pain. By the time I came out of surgery, my baby was gone. Three days later, Severin returned from a business trip, looking exhausted and travel-worn. A blissful smile still lingered on his face. "Honey, I learned some new pregnancy-friendly recipes. They're even more nutritious than the old ones. If you stick to them, I know your delivery will go smoothly. "I'll start making them for you tomorrow, okay?" When I didn't respond, Severin's gaze finally dropped from my pale face to my flat stomach. In that instant, his smile vanished.