Tragic Love の短編小説 & Secretary Cheating 小説

While my husband, Gerald Brown, was abroad negotiating a business deal, he was drugged and spent the night with a female secretary from a rival company. The drug’s side effects scrambled his memory so badly that he forgot who I was. He kicked me out of the master bedroom and let the secretary smash my grandmother’s heirloom. I told myself he was sick and stayed silently by his side. But when I suggested taking him for a medical checkup, he hit me for the first time. “Who do you think you are? Only Ailey is allowed to touch me. If she gets jealous, you’ll regret it.” When the secretary framed me, he pushed me down the stairs, and I suffered a miscarriage. Late one night, when my heart condition flared up, I went to his study for medicine but overheard him talking to his friend outside the door. “Faking amnesia to bring Ailey home is one thing, but why replace your wife’s heart medication? Now, she’ll never return to the hospital for surgery.” Gerald just chuckled. “If I don’t keep her weak, she’ll go to the hospital and check the hospital records and find out I was never drugged. Ailey’s been timid since childhood and even went undercover for me in a rival company. I can’t betray her.”

Five years ago, Gary Cooper proposed to me 99 times just to marry me. Five years later, to cheer up the secretary he adored, he handed me 99 divorce papers. "Relax. I'm not actually divorcing you. I'm just humoring her. Just pretend like you always do. There's no need to sign." When Gary said it, he was even smiling. As for me, the heartbreak I once felt had long since faded. Now, there was barely a ripple left. I suddenly remembered what day it was and asked quietly, "Will you be home for dinner tonight?" He paused for a moment, then casually shook his head. "Probably not. Today's kind of special. I don't want her to get jealous." I nodded and watched him walk out the door. Then, I picked up a pen and carefully signed my name on the 99th divorce agreement.

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.

Before my mother passed away, the person she most wanted to see was her beloved son-in-law, Anthony Brosnan. She supported Anthony financially for five years, and the latter started his own business after graduating. At that time, I accidentally walked into his office and instantly fell in love with him at first sight. However, Anthony changed after three years of marriage and fell in love with his secretary. I called him over a dozen times, and it was the secretary who picked up the phone. "Anthony is cooking right now. Do you need something?" Just as I was about to speak, my mother overheard the voice. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she passed away filled with resentment. Anthony, since I had lost my mother, you meant nothing to me anymore.

In the two weeks leading up to our fifth wedding anniversary banquet, my wife's secretary, Ronald Piper, sent me photos of the two of them in bed every single day. I pretend not to know. On the day of the banquet, my wife, Jessica Tuttle, books out an entire hotel and gives a heartfelt speech, saying that I am the person she is most grateful for in this lifetime. Everyone applauds through tears. Over the years, Jessica, the aloof and capable CEO, has flown a thousand miles overnight just to come home and cook me broth when my stomach hurts. And when she is sentenced to imprisonment, I willingly serve two years behind bars in her place without hesitation. To outsiders, we are a perfect couple who are deeply in love with each other. While cutting the cake, I notice the pendant on Ronald's wrist. I had to call in every favor I had to get that pendant for Jessica. Back then, she says to me, "As long as the pendant stays on, our love remains. If it's ever removed, our relationship is over." I look at Jessica, who sighs with a helpless and indulgent expression. "Felix, Ron has been having nightmares lately. He's been down with a fever, too. I lent it to him for a few days to ward off bad luck. Don't argue with a kid over something so small, okay?" She then pats Ronald's shoulder reassuringly and urges, "You should thank Felix. He's always been understanding. It's just a trinket. He wouldn't be reluctant to part with it." Ronald looks at me timidly and says, "Thank you for letting me have it. With it protecting me, I can finally sleep peacefully every night while holding it in my arms. When I get better, I'll give it back to you." My best childhood friend is furious upon hearing this. "How can you turn a blind eye to all this?" he hisses. Of course I can.

The day my boyfriend returned from his business trip overseas, I broke up with him. He looked at me with a faint smile. "You're breaking up with me just because I didn't buy you that handbag?" "Yes." I nodded without hesitation. Seven days earlier, my boyfriend, Elias Jones, had traveled to Francoria on a business trip with his team. When he came back, he had souvenirs for everyone. Even the security guard at the office received a crocodile leather belt. Everyone got a gift except me. The bag I had been talking about for the past two months and wanted for my birthday had slipped his mind completely. Then I opened Instagram and saw a photograph his newly hired secretary had posted, proudly showing off a designer handbag. [Feeling grateful for the best boss in the world! You're the absolute best!] Elias had replied beneath the post. [It was nothing.] I stared at the screen for a long time before quietly deleting the message I had been about to send him. Melissa: [Can't wait for you to come home.] Elias and I had known each other since we were seven years old. We fell in love at eighteen and had spent the last twenty years growing up side by side. There had been a time when I was always his first priority. Somewhere along the way, everyone else started coming before me. Just like now. We were in the middle of ending our relationship when his phone lit up with a Messenger invitation from Tracy, his new secretary, asking him to join her for lunch. He glanced at the notification, smiled, and waved the whole conversation away. "Come on. Stop being dramatic. "It's just a handbag. I'll buy you one next time. "Tracy's waiting for me for lunch. Just grab a cab home." He hurried out without looking back. I did not try to stop him. Instead, I opened my chat with a studio in Brighton City. They had already invited me to join them seven different times. I finally sent my reply to their last offer. Melissa: [I've decided to accept your offer. My flight arrives tomorrow night. See you in Brighton City.] After hitting send, I slipped my engagement ring off my finger and placed it inside the top drawer of his desk. Elias… From this moment on, our lives would go in their separate directions.

We’d been together for seven years, but during that entire time, my fiancée rejected the idea of getting married ninety-nine times, all because of a male intern. The first time, she canceled our vacation at the last minute, saying the intern was stuck on a night shift and afraid of the dark. She got on a flight that very night and rushed back to the hospital. The second time, we were already halfway through the doors of the courthouse to get our marriage registered. But just then, she got word that the intern had collapsed from exhaustion. Without a second thought, she left me standing alone in the snow for the entire day. After that, it became a pattern. Every time we were together, the intern would find some excuse to pull her away. Eventually, I made up my mind to let go. I stopped dreaming about a happy marriage with her. However, just when I announced I was transferring to another city, she broke down, begging me, almost hysterically, not to leave.

After I finally fulfill my girlfriend, Joanna Quill's 100th wish, she agrees to marry me. But on our wedding day, her assistant, Larry Johnson, storms up onto the stage and holds up a marriage certificate with their names on it. "Callum, Jo's my wife now. What, you don't feel the slightest bit ashamed trying to steal another man's wife?" Before I can demand an explanation, Joanna rips off her diamond ring and hurls it at my face. "I told you we should wait a bit, but you just had to rush things. Happy now?" That's when I find out that to help Larry get his parents off his back about settling down, the two of them quietly registered their marriage a week earlier. Out in the crowd, Mom—who'd traveled in from our hometown just to see me get married—is so furious that she has a heart attack and gets rushed to the ER. When I want to pay her medical bill, the hospital tells me my joint account with Joanna is empty. One minute earlier, she'd just burned through the last $7,500 on that card. Mom dies on the operating table. The very next second, I refresh my social feed and see Larry's latest post. "To make it up to me, my boss just dropped $7,500 on a watch like it's nothing!" I let out a bitter laugh and hit the like button. A moment later, Joanna calls, her voice sharp and impatient. "What's with this stunt now? Unlike that post. Once Larry and I are done with this act to fool his parents, I'll marry you and give you a healthy baby so you and your mom can finally be happy, okay?" She has no idea that Mom is already gone. There's never going to be a future for us.

A single typo cost the company a billion-dollar contract, and my boyfriend, the CEO, punished me by making me do everyone else's work. My day began at 3 AM, cleaning the office, then taking on all the grunt work: buying coffee, delivering documents, and more. After hours, I'd be out drinking with clients, negotiating new contracts, and sleeping less than two hours each night. I pushed myself relentlessly, driven by my boyfriend's promise to marry me once I recouped the company's losses. The moment I finally did, I overheard his secretary complaining to him, "Mr. Smith, do you remember when she fined me twenty bucks? It was so unfair! "Thank you so much for sneaking in that contract with typos to prank her for five years... Now that she's paid for it, the debt is settled, and I've forgiven her. You should fulfill your promise." However, my boyfriend snorted in disdain. "You were just a couple of hours late, but she'd punish you that severely—that's just poor leadership. "And it's true she settled her debt, but she wants to marry me too? Hell, no—she must get me a billion-dollar contract first!" I crumpled the medical report confirming I had cancer, my pain beyond words. Well, I was going to die, so that was not going to happen.

I'm Tristan Scott's driver's daughter. Ten years ago, my father died at the hands of Tristan's abductors as he tried to save Tristan. Tristan had held me close and told me, "I'll care for you for the rest of your life on your father's behalf." Later, my mother's cancer relapsed due to her sorrow after losing my father. Before her death, she hoped to see Tristan and me marry. But on the wedding day, Tristan leaves me at the altar. I weep and try to keep him around, but he sneers and says, "You should know where to draw the line—your father gave his life in exchange for the cushy life you now have. That should be enough for you! You're dreaming if you think you can marry me!" In the end, my mother dies without seeing Tristan put a ring on me. That night, his assistant shares an Instagram story. The photo is of her and Tristan's faces plastered to each other as she shows off the ring on her finger. It's captioned, "My answer is yes."

Tatum picked out our family car, saying that it would be a beautiful way to start our life together. After we got married, though, I had to push the passenger seat all the way forward. The rear-view mirror never caught my entire face. The seat belt pressed painfully against my collarbone. The headrest hit the back of my head at the worst angle possible. I once asked if the seat could be set to my preferred position. He shut me down, claiming the passenger settings were saved, so it was best not to meddle and overwrite the car's memory profile. I never brought the subject up again. One time, my flight landed at eleven at night on my return from a business trip. I called him thrice. Tatum didn't pick up the first time and rejected my call on the next. He texted me then. "Take an Uber home. I'm in a meeting." Outside the airport, rain came down in sheets. I stood in the taxi line for forty minutes, hauling my suitcases behind me. When my ride passed his office, I spotted his car parked by the curb, and someone sat in the front with him. It was Hazel, his longtime executive assistant. Standing at 5'7", she wore her hair down to her waist. The passenger seat was pulled back just enough for her; the headrest rested perfectly behind her head, and the seat belt crossed her chest at exactly the right angle. Everything was to her measurements, all right. So when Tatum chose the car, the woman he had pictured sitting next to him had never been me.

On our wedding night, my CEO wife’s assistant barged into the bridal suite with a crowd behind him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and grinned in front of all the guests. “I've gotta thank Shawn for being so generous. Over the past year, Chloe and I tried all 1,000 positions in the Karma Sutra, won a $10,000,000 bonus, and even ended up with a baby. “Don’t feel too bad, Shawn, even if all you got was one dollar. “And of course, I should thank my future in-laws and everyone here for thinking so highly of me. Tonight, I’ll definitely make sure Chloe has the time of her life on our wedding night.” The room fell silent. No one said a word. Even my father-in-law, who always claimed he treated me like his own son, lowered his head and avoided my eyes. Chloe glanced at me and said casually, “He’s young and insecure. He just wants to spend the wedding night with me. That’s all. “Jason even gave me his first time because he wanted this baby so badly. I have to take responsibility for him.” My heart instantly turned ice-cold. I finally understood why she had given me that envelope with a single dollar in it. I made my decision as I looked at the woman before me, who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. I did not want her anymore.

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife's secretary, Ryan, posted a photo on social media. I took off my wedding ring and asked for a divorce. Madison looked stunned. "You're divorcing me over a picture of me with a cat? What kind of childish stunt is this?" She was severely allergic to cat fur. For her, I gave away the cat I'd loved for seven years. In ten years of marriage, I'd never even thought about getting another pet. Yet she let Ryan keep a ragdoll cat in the office. Cat fur was everywhere, but she'd just smile, pop an allergy pill, and say the cat helped her relax. There were more photos of that cat on her phone than pictures of our family. When Madison realized I was serious, she snapped. She pointed at our five-year-old daughter, sitting in Ryan's arms. "If you divorce me, you'll never get custody of Bella. And don't expect her to take care of you when you're old!" I looked at Bella calmly. She glared back, her little hand gripping Ryan's shirt. I smiled. I didn't want my cheating wife anymore. Why would I want an ungrateful brat too?

I'm hopelessly in love with my husband, Eric Grant. Even though he has a wandering eye and has cheated on me with my adopted sister, Sabrina Wright, I still can't bring myself to give up on him. I even take all kinds of medication and undergo fertility injections, hoping that a child will be enough to make him stay. It all comes to a head when the doctor tells me I'm pregnant. I clutch my pregnancy test results and rush straight to his office. "Eric, I'm preg—" The words die in my throat. Eric has his arms around his new secretary, kissing her fervently. He shoots me an annoyed look. "Get the hell out!" All of a sudden, I come to my senses. I can accept such an unfaithful husband, but can my child accept a father like him?

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.

By my third month on the job, I discovered that my coworkers had been calling me "the old crow" behind my back. The nickname came from none other than Jace's condescending secretary—because at 32, I was still clutching onto an eight-year relationship that hadn't ended in marriage. I confronted Jace. "Do you know your employees have been calling me the old crow?" He didn't even bother to look up. "That's just Sadie—she speaks her mind and means no harm. You're 32; why get so worked up over what a young girl says?" Then he gave me a faint, mocking smile. "Though honestly, it's a pretty fitting nickname." It felt like a cold hand had wrapped around my heart. So that was it—eight years of my youth, nothing more than a joke to him. I turned and walked away, handed in my resignation, and blocked every way he could reach me. But for the first time, the man who had always seemed so calm and untouchable finally panicked. "Elara," he pleaded, "please come back."