Cerita Pendek Plot Twists & Novel Unattainable Love Cheating

On the day of our engagement banquet, my fiancée, Serena Sutton, pushed an inheritance agreement across the table with one hand resting on her seven-month pregnant belly. "When the baby is born, you'll be listed as his father. "And the inheritance rights of both the Carter and Sutton families will go to him." I finished reading the agreement and asked one question. "Who is the father?" The doors opened. Lucas Grant, the man Serena had never gotten over, walked in holding a glass of wine. He answered for her. "Me. "If you really love Serena, you should accept everything that comes with her. "The child can take your surname. It's not as though you're losing anything." The entire ballroom waited to see me humiliated. I folded the agreement and slipped it into my pocket. "Fine." Serena visibly relaxed. Then I added, "Since your family cares so much about inheritance, I'll help the Suttons choose a new heir today. "Starting with you."

My fiancé’s first love and I fell down the stairs at the same time, and he chose to save her instead, leaving me to lie there in a pool of blood as I waited for an ambulance. On the brink of death, I begged him not to abandon me, and he only kicked my hand away, saying, “Elodie, can’t you show a little kindness? Don’t you see that Celeste is unconscious?! “…I’ll make sure you pay for this later!” ‘Later’, as he put it, didn’t come to pass. As he left with his first love in his arms, I died along with the baby inside my womb.

My secret boyfriend, Marco Ross—the fastest rising mafia star in New York—hid a ring in our home. I thought it was for me. Instead, I received a video of him proposing to another woman—Bianco Conti —on our anniversary. The same night, masked men broke in, held me at gunpoint, and forced me to call Marco. A woman answered the call, “Marco, your little orphan is calling again.” Then Marco’s cold tone. “Don’t bother, babe, she’s just your substitute, a stray I keep around, a free woman to warm my bed.” The masked men shot me in the stomach—then fled. What Marco didn’t know? The real Conti heiress… was me. The Bianco he cherished so much… was just an imposter. I once refused to take the Conti name because of Marco, afraid it would ruin us. But if he never cared… why should I? I made one call. “Papa, I’ll come home, take over the business, and accept the marriage alliance—but Bianca has to be go.”

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

My avoidant fiance refused to talk to me about anything. Every time we fought, he would put on his earphones and turn the volume all the way up. This time, we were arguing over laundry detergent again. He impatiently slammed the earphones on me. "Are you seriously going to do this again, Jessica? You fight because of bad photos. You start a fight because I didn't take out the trash in time, and you start fights because I forgot our anniversaries. And now I can't even choose which detergent I use?" I stared at the red mark on my thigh and the broken earphones on the ground. I saved up most of my salary for that. It was a present, but now he was using it to vent. Yet he had kept the laundry detergent his childhood friend gave him for six whole years. Every time an important date was coming up, he would use a bit of it to wash all his clothes. The sickly sweet scent of that detergent filled the room. I looked up and held back my tears. "Let's break up, Zack."

To save his childhood sweetheart suffering from a congenital heart condition, my mate Ethan—the storm pack’s Alpha—forced me to remove my heart to be given to his beloved. "Don't worry, you are the rarest white wolf with the strongest healing ability. I have prepared an artificial heart for you, and you will be fine." Ethan said. I tried to explain to my mate Ethan that my healing ability has become very poor in the past year, so that transplanting my heart would kill me. My mate snarled at me with disgust, "Selene is so gravely ill, and here you are, jealous and fighting for attention! She saved my life when I was suffering from silver poisoning a year ago! You won't die anyway, so why can't you help her?" Under the mandatory order of my mate, I was sent to the pack healer for the heart transplant. He didn’t know that I was the one who had exchanged my rare white wolf's healing ability with a witch to save him from silver poisoning. In the end, with my healing abilities gone, I died miserably in a forgotten corner of the empty healer's cabin.

Because of my negligence, Leo's precious darling Sophia had choked on a mouthful of seawater. He flew into a rage and locked me in the dark water dungeon. "Catherine, whatever Sophia suffered, you'll repay double!" The instinct to survive forced me to shift into wolf form. I slammed my head against the iron cage again and again, begging for his mercy. But Leo bound my limbs with iron chains and ordered his subordinates to keep flooding the chamber. "A jealous wretch like you will only learn obedience through suffering." "Stay in there and repent for what you've done." He sealed the iron door of the water dungeon himself and forbade anyone from coming near. Over and over, I craned my neck to gulp in the thin air, howling in desperation. But the rising ice water swallowed me whole. I kept struggling until I had no strength left. A week later, in his great mercy, he decided to end my punishment. What he didn't know was that the water snakes had already gnawed my body beyond recognition.

The fifth anniversary of my marriage to my wife, Roxanne Clark, coincides with the National Day. We agree to spend the holiday together at the Ermane Sea. But on the morning of our departure, Roxanne hurriedly packs her luggage and informs me, "Something came up at work. I have to go on a business trip." I believe her. But later that night, I see a post from her first love, Conrad Jensen. In the photo, the two of them are standing close together with their fingers intertwined. Their matching couple bracelets are impossible to miss. I smile bitterly. In the end, she did go to the Ermane Sea, but not with the person she promised. I do not call to confront her. Instead, I calmly gave the post a "Like". One minute later, Roxanne calls me frantically and explains, "This is all a misunderstanding. We just happened to run into each other during the business trip. I'll definitely make it up to you on the next National Day." I chuckle dismissively and say, "It's fine. Have a great time." Roxanne looks extremely shocked as she asks, "Why aren't you jealous this time?"

Not long after getting married to my husband, he says he wants to teach me how to scuba dive. My leg cramps when I'm practicing alone in the deep sea. However, my husband, a swimming instructor, chooses to save his unattainable love—she's jumped into the sea to commit suicide. I don't ask him for help. Instead, I allow myself to slowly sink. In my past life, I stopped my husband from leaving. He saved me with gnashed teeth and allowed his first love, Millie Quirke, to drown. By the time he went to save her, she'd already disappeared in the water. He comforted me and told me it was okay, that he was glad he'd saved me. However, one night, he brought me back to the seaside. Just as I let my guard down, he grabbed my neck and plunged my face into the water. Then, he dragged me out before I could suffocate. "You were just cramping—it would've passed! But Millie got dragged away by the current because of you! You can remain in the ocean with her!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day I was scuba diving.

During the long National Day holidays, I planned a Golden Highlands trip for the whole family. I even booked tickets for a luxurious train ride so we could enjoy the scenery. But on departure day, my husband and son vanished. I called my husband. I could hear an airport boarding announcement in the background. My voice trembled. "Where are you?" He panicked and mumbled that the company had an emergency before hanging up. I tried calling again, but the line was busy. The next day, he posted an update on his social media. In the photo, he stood beneath the snowy peaks of Wintercrown with one arm around his old love while the other held our son. The caption read: [If we had been a little braver back then...] A friend commented: [Where is your wife?] I stared at his reply: [She's sick and resting at home.] Three expired train tickets sat on the table as my eyes welled up with tears. A decade of marriage. A pack of lies. It was time to bring it all to a close.

On my birthday, Heather Pond’s lover posted a sonogram on his social media account and captioned it, [We’re going to be parents!] I commented, [Congratulations. You can have the baby cot from my place.] The next second, Heather called me to give me a warning. “Brandon Smith is dying. I’ll come back to you once I give birth to his child. Please don’t trigger him any further!” I remained calm and collected when I served her the divorce papers. Then, I packed my bags and went on a vacation in Europe.

As I was cleaning up the house, I noticed something had fallen out of the cabinet my wife always kept locked tight. I remembered Megan's constant warnings. "That cabinet holds all our family's important records. If anything gets lost, there's no getting it back. Just leave it alone and don't touch it." Worried something valuable might have fallen out, I rushed to pick it up. But what I found was a thick stack of remittance slips. From forty years ago to now, every month, my wife had been sending money to the same account. And that's when it hit me. My wife had been lying to me. The money I'd been pouring into this family had been flowing right out, into the hands of someone else.

Three years into my marriage with Shawn, I found out I was pregnant. I nervously but joyfully prepared to surprise him with the news. Yet what I received was the news of Shawn’s accidental death. Devastated by the blow, I miscarried the child and killed myself in despair. However, after death, I saw him drinking and mocking me with his rowdy friends. “Samantha is so dumb. I can’t believe she really fell for that prank. Does she really think I’d be fooled by her? I’m not an idiot like her. What, she’s pregnant? If she was going to make up something to fool me, she should have at least made it more believable.” But our child really was gone, and I had really died.

The day Sofia died, I scattered her ashes into the sea myself. In my last life, I called her my stepmother for thirteen years. She pulled me from dead last at a school in the slums to the top ten in the whole city, gave me the first dress of my life, and taught me how to sit straight at the Moreno dinner table and never bow my head to anyone. On the late nights when my father Leon got drunk and smashed his bottles, it was always her who closed my bedroom door first, then walked alone into the living room to face the man that love and power had already driven mad. Seven days after she died of her illness, Leon finally lost his mind. He charged into the sea off the old docks, screaming, "Sofia, I was wrong! I'm coming down to be with you!" I clung to him with everything I had, and in the struggle I fell into the freezing water myself. When I opened my eyes again, I was five years old. Sofia was crouched on the floor, tying my shoelaces. Her fingers were warm, the pads still carrying the thin calluses left by years of holding a pen over the ledgers. I threw my arms around her neck and buried my face in the crook of her shoulder. "Mommy, this time I don't want anyone else. I only want you."

During the three years after I'm diagnosed with a malignant tumor, my husband performs over 30 major surgeries on me so he can keep me around to donate my corneas to his true love. Finally, when she has the courage to face her illness under his encouragement, he follows a doctor's advise and gives up on treating me. I laugh when taking my last breath. He has no idea that the cancer has already spread to my eyes. He won't be transplanting my corneas in his true love's eyes—he'll be planting cancer in her.

With just one month left before my wedding to Silas Novak, his first love, Isabella Grey, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her dying wish was for Silas to take her on a monthlong honeymoon. Full of guilt, Silas pulled me into his arms. "Nina, I'm sorry. The wedding can wait, but Isabella can't. It's her last wish. I can't just abandon her." I was leaning against his shoulder, about to nod, when his phone screen lit up and a message caught my eye. "Babe, the fake medical report is all set! You promised you'd push back the wedding and spend some time alone with me, so no backing out." That was the moment I found out her terminal cancer diagnosis was just an elaborate lie. And to him, our wedding was just a game he could call off whenever he felt like it. So the day after their flight took off, I called his uncle, Ryder Novak. Since he'd chosen a honeymoon with his first love, I'd find a new groom. I was done playing his game!

Everyone says Brandon Foster loves me to the bone. I'm the only one who knows he has a secret lover—a poor student I once sponsored. On our wedding night, he brushed me off with the excuse of needing to entertain the guests. In truth, he was busy fooling around with her. Well, I don't care about that anymore. I have cancer, and my time is running out. I don't expect him and his lover to both lose their minds when they find out, though.

When I found out I had terminal cancer and only a month left to live, my wife didn't want to talk about my illness. All she wanted was for me to donate a kidney to the man she'd never stopped loving. For five years of marriage, I cooked for her and poured every bit of love I had into her. Yet, she never once looked my way. Then, I actually died, and that was when she finally regretted it. She knelt devoutly at the church, praying I would come back to her.

I accidentally wear the gown Miles Graham prepared for his childhood sweetheart. To my horror, he forces me to take it off in public. "I prepared this for Nora—do you think you're worthy of wearing it? Take it off! You're dirtying it!" He knows I have serious PTSD after almost being violated, yet he insults me with those words. I look at him tearfully and beg him not to say anymore. That's when the gown's zip bursts open. My PTSD acts up. I'm so overwhelmed that I collapse on the floor and have a seizure. Miles dismisses everyone and takes Nora out on a date. He leaves me lying there in humiliation. I call my mentor before being discharged from the hospital. "Ms. Gardner, I've decided to participate in the water conservation project in Affenheim."

In the seven years that I have been bound to my Alpha heir mate Garrett, he had slept with every single friend around me. I pretended I saw nothing. I kept fulfilling my duties as the future Luna. Until the day I gave birth, his new mistress led rogue wolves straight to me. Their claws pierced through my belly with cruel precision. My mother was even killed by them when she tried to save me. In that desperate moment, I used the mind link to contact Garrett and begged him to save us. "Aria, when did you learn to pull these tricks? Don't think your pathetic acting will make me care about you." After saying that, he shut down the mind link. But he did send a car—to pick up his new mistress. By the time the patrol found me and rushed me to the hospital, the baby in my belly had been clawed out. My mother died too. The rogue wolves' poison coursed through her wounds until her body gave up. When I woke up, I stared numbly at Garrett's grandfather, the current Alpha of the Shadowmoon Pack. "Let me go," I said flatly. "Whatever I owed your pack, I've paid it back with my life."