Unattainable Love Cheating の短編小説 & 小説

I become paralyzed after trying to save my wife. Seven years later, she holds a knife to our young son's neck and forces me to donate my kidney to her male best friend. She says I'm worthless now that I'm already paralyzed—what does it matter whether or not I have my kidneys? What she doesn't know is that I already lost a kidney many years ago when trying to save her. Now, she's taking away the only one I have left!

I was nine months pregnant when a man ambushed me, dragging me to the rooftop and repeatedly stabbing me. He had a grudge against my husband for replacing him. Meanwhile, my husband, a rescue team leader, was frantically coordinating efforts to stop his depressed ex-lover from burning down a rental apartment. I never called for his help. In a previous life, I had desperately called him, and he had abandoned his ex-lover to rush to my side. As a result, my child and I survived the attack, but his ex-lover perished in the fire she ignited. My husband seemed unfazed, even booking a VIP delivery room for me. Yet, on the day I was to give birth, he bound me and brutally stabbed our newborn multiple times. "You were in on this plot, weren't you?" he snarled. "Those wounds? They're nothing! You weren't even close to dying!" "Oh, you like being stabbed so much? I'll give you exactly what you want!" Suddenly, I found myself back on the day of the kidnapping. This time, I decided to let him go save his precious ex-lover.

On New Year's Eve, my daughter was critically ill. As she took her last breath, she said she just wanted to see her father one last time. But I couldn't bear to tell her the truth that her father was with someone else's child, lighting fireworks and celebrating New Year's Eve together. Beside me, calls continued being made, but none of them went through. My daughter passed away with regret in her heart, and I followed her into despair, jumping to end it all. Now that I've been given a second chance to live again, I looked at the man in front of me whose eyes were full of guilt and helplessness. However, my heart remained calm. "Just this once, Mariah. Tonya is sick, and she really needs me—" I cut him off and went to pick up my daughter. "Get out of my sight."

My mate Derek, Alpha of the SilverCrest Pack, secretly marked me two years ago. But he still hasn't held our mating ceremony to publicly announce my position. I've been working as his "assistant," helping him manage pack affairs all this time. Every time Derek cheats with his childhood sweetheart, Vivian, he promises to finally hold our mating ceremony. Two years. Ten promised ceremonies. Ten broken promises. The first time, he said Vivian's dog had died. "I can't hold a celebration while she's grieving," he told me, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "It wouldn't be right." The second time, Vivian had a stomach ache. He left the ceremony venue minutes before it was supposed to start, rushing off to cook soup for his precious childhood friend. After that, each scheduled mating ceremony fell through because his childhood sweetheart always had some kind of emergency. I've cried. I've screamed. I've begged. Derek always gives me the same answer: "Viv and I are just friends. You're my true mate. Taking care of pack members is your responsibility too. Don't be so jealous." After the tenth canceled ceremony, I finally gave up. I slid the mate bond dissolution papers across his desk. "The Alpha Council has approved our request to break the mate bond," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "You and I are no longer connected." That’s when the powerful Alpha went crazy...

My mother-in-law and I were trapped during an earthquake overseas. The rescue team knew that my husband had a private plane nearby and asked me to contact him, but I could only shake my head in rejection of the idea. In my last life, I tried my hardest to call him and get him to come save us. My mother-in-law and I were saved, but my husband’s true love got angry and went out to let off some steam. The incident ended with her being tortured to death. In front of his mother, my husband said that his lover deserved it. Yet, on the anniversary of her death, he killed me the way she had died. “I’ve always known that it was your scheme. You have to die as Shevonne did!” This time round, when my husband took his lover on a private plane to admire the cityscape at night, he found out everything that had happened and went mad.

The yacht I'm steering crashes into a huge wave, scaring my husband's junior, who has a heart condition. So, my husband orders someone to tie me up and dangle me in the ocean by a rope. He even tells the captain to head straight into the waves. "You know Wren has a heart condition, yet you still scared her! How can you be so evil?" I beg him to let me go and tell him that I was following a charted path; I didn't mean for anything to happen. However, he just mocks me. "You've been a yacht driver for so long. Haven't you experienced anything like this before? I'll make you go through what Wren did! Let's see whether you'll pull this again!" After a day and night of this torment, he relents and decides to pull me back up. It's too bad he doesn't know that the waves have already torn me to shreds.

I find out I'm about two months pregnant before my wedding. Luke Logan drunkenly caresses my belly and half-jokes, "I'm not ready to be a father, Summer. Can we not keep the baby?" My heart is calm. I say softly, "Sure." In my past life, I insisted on keeping the child. Meanwhile, Riley Richards had an accidental miscarriage, making it difficult for her to conceive again. Luke held a grudge against me for that and treated me coldly after we married. As for the son that I put one foot in the coffin to bring into this world, he, too, cried and fussed. He wanted Riley to be his mother. Later, I got into an accident and suffered from significant blood loss. However, Luke and our son merely hurried past me to be with Riley as she went into labor. I slowly bled to death on the floor above, while Luke and our son celebrated the birth of Riley's child on the floor below. Now that I've been reborn, I won't lose sight of myself and take the wrong path again. I call Eric Nottingham. "I'll join the expedition team to Glacia."

Five years after I mated to Alpha Derek Blackwood, his childhood sweetheart broke her mate bond with another Alpha and returned to our pack. Even worse, I had depleted my life force saving Derek when he was mortally wounded, and now I was dying. In the less than six months I had left to live, I continued to play the role of Derek's good mate. Until I passed away. And Derek, after reading the journal I left behind, completely fell apart.

I had a miscarriage and was confined in the ICU. Meanwhile, my husband was off traveling the world with his first love. It wasn't until he decided to divorce me that he finally remembered I existed. He called my mother, demanding to know how long I planned to act out. She was disheartened, looking at me, who was barely clinging to life. "Shannon will never cause you trouble again! Happy now?" she snapped.

After six years by Archie Valez’s side, everything changed when his uncle died—and Archie took over the family legacy… and with it, the responsibility of caring for his “young” aunt, Betty Cruz, whose age was practically the same as Archie’s. Still, whatever Betty wanted, Archie delivered. I just never thought it would include a baby. Betty said she wanted a baby with the Valez bloodline. And with the uncle gone, Archie was the only one left to do the job. So he gave her that, too. “Just wait a little longer,” he would say to me, “Sabrina. As soon as she’s pregnant.” What started as once a month turned into once a week… Then it became a nightly routine. Of almost eight months that we lived in New York, Archie went to Betty over a hundred times. And she finally got pregnant. Shortly after, the Valez family announced that Archie would be marrying Betty. “Mommy,” my daughter asked softly, climbing onto the couch beside me. Elly—our Elly. My Elly. The daughter Archie never had time for. “Is someone getting married?” I held her close and kissed her hair. “Yes, sweetheart. Daddy’s finally marrying the love of his life.” Elly blinked at the screen. “But what about us?” I smiled. “We’re going home, baby,” I whispered in her ear. Archie forgot that I was Sabrina Marcellus. And the Marcellus women didn’t beg for rings. And certainly not love after betrayal.

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."

After risking my life to save my Alpha heir mate Ethan and his father from the devastating rogue attack, I devoted three years to watching over him. I stayed by his side through his physical rehabilitation until he could shift again, selling my handmade healing potions to cover the pack's financial shortfalls. I never left, never gave up, handling everything personally until the Northern Pack finally reclaimed its position at the top. But on the night of the victory celebration, standing beside him was his first love—the woman who had once abandoned him. A reporter held up a microphone and asked, "We heard Miss Victoria left you three years ago to go overseas. Now that she's back, how do you feel about her?" He smiled softly, his gaze tender as he looked at the woman beside him. "She is the most important person in my life." That night, I had a lawyer draft the mate bond severance papers. Since she's the most important, I'll step aside.

I drag my suitcase out of the airport and walk straight into a massive billboard. "Welcome back, Jennifer Palmer, the great love of Ivan Olsen's life." The entire Internet praises him for having waited faithfully for ten years. A star-struck reporter shoves a microphone in my face and asks, "Ms. Palmer, are you moved that Mr. Olsen has remained celibate for you all this time?" I blink in confusion at her question. "Who's Ivan?"

I was pregnant. On my way to deliver documents to Tristan Goldberg, a flash flood struck. Desperate, I dialed his number, praying he’d answer. After a few rings, the call connected. But instead of Tristan, a woman’s voice answered. "Tristan, whose number is this? Do you want to answer it?" There was a brief pause, and then Tristan’s voice, cold and indifferent, cut through. "It’s just my maid. Ignore it. Hang up." And just like that, the call disconnected. Staring at the torrent rising around me, my pulse quickened. I texted him, begging for him to send a rescue team. Minutes passed as the waters climbed to my waist, churning and relentless. Then, a message from Tristan finally appeared. Tristan: [What kind of ridiculous story are you making up now?] Tristan: [Emily, do you think you're eighteen, playing these childish games? I want that document in my hands within thirty minutes, or we're getting divorced.] A surge of terror shot through me as I looked up, catching sight of a heavy branch snapping loose and crashing down. In an instant, everything went dark.

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.

My husband and I go on a road trip back to my hometown before Christmas. I want to ride shotgun, but he chases me to the backseat so his female colleague can sit in front. He says, "Isabel gets carsick easily. You are my wife, so you should be more considerate of her." He seems to have forgotten that I'm pregnant—my morning sickness is at its peak. Halfway through the journey, he and Isabel Slater start smoking. They make me throw up. The smell disgusts them, and my husband wants to teach me a lesson. He and Isabel leave me at the rest stop. Unbeknownst to them, my family is already waiting there. This time, I'm going back with them and getting an abortion and divorce. Later, my husband is filled with regret when he learns the child is gone.

When Ethan Thamson was broke and struggling, his first love left him for a richer man who could give her the designer lifestyle she wanted. He spiraled until I found him unconscious on the side of the road and took him in. On my 18th birthday, our friendship became something more, and before long, we were inseparable. For the next eight years, I stayed by Ethan's side as he fought his way from a nobody on the streets to one of the most powerful men in the city. And through it all, Ethan treated me like I was the center of his world. Even after all these years, he still remembers the smallest things, like bringing me a heating pad and a warm drink whenever I have cramps. I never doubt his love—until I'm eight months pregnant and find an almost-empty box of condoms in his car. Ethan laughs it off. "I lent the car to Mason. I'll tell him to clean up after himself next time." After eight years together, I believe him. One month later, Vanessa Coleman, Ethan's first love, shows up at our door. She's pregnant. Vanessa pulls down her collar just enough to reveal the marks scattered across her skin and smiles. "Has Ethan ever wanted you this badly? In the past year alone, we've been together 108 times in hotels, 15 times in his car, and 18 times in the bed you share with him. "You were never the love of his life, Natalie. You were just the woman he used to get over me. "And now that I'm back, he doesn't need you anymore. So why are you still holding on?"

Seven years into my marriage to Sebastian, we had our first child. On Logan's first birthday party, one of the old friends Sebastian had known since prep school rattled a little velvet cup of dice in Logan's face and laughed. "Come on, Mrs. Forsythe, humor us. Let the birthday boy roll. A game. For old times' sake." Logan giggled and slapped at the cup. "If he rolls a six," the groomsman went on, grinning sideways at Sebastian, "Sebastian goes and picks Serena up from the airport tonight. Deal?" The moment I heard her name, my blood went cold. I turned to Sebastian. He'd been keeping in touch with her behind my back. All this time. He caught my eyes. He covered my shaking fingers with his and frowned slightly. "Don't be jealous over nothing. We're all friends. It's just a ride from the airport." And then, without quite meaning to, he nodded. Permission given. Logan laughed and opened his little fist. The dice clattered across the linen. A six. "That's fate!" someone whooped. "Serena's flight lands in two hours. You'll make it!" The room erupted. Glasses up. Backs slapped. Sebastian surrounded. His face softened and he turned and went for the door. Watching his back disappear through that door, I didn't do what I used to do. This seven-year bet of mine — I had lost it, completely.

One month before my wedding to my boyfriend, he announced he wanted to have a child with his "first love." I refused, but he brought it up every single day. Two weeks before the ceremony, I received a prenatal checkup report. That’s when I discovered his so-called "first love" was already nearly a month pregnant. It turned out he’d never intended to seek my consent at all. In that moment, years of affection evaporated like smoke. So, I canceled the wedding, destroyed every trace of our memories, and on what should have been our wedding day, I walked into a closed-off research lab. From then on, he meant nothing to me.

Zoey Samantha had an unrequited love. Only I didn't know. It was the fourth year since we were together. She forced me to donate my kidney to that person. I hesitated for a moment, and she slapped me across the face. "That's your older brother. Don't be so selfish." Helplessly, I tried to force a smile. She had no idea that I was on the verge of death.