Tragic Love Workplace Short Stories & Novels

During a game of Truth or Dare at a gathering with friends, my girlfriend, Bridget Ellison, loses. Her punishment is to buy coffee for everyone. Half an hour later, she returns carrying more than a dozen bags and starts handing out drinks with a smile. "Francis, you've been pulling all-nighters for two days straight. Here's your iced long black." "Daryl, you like java chip frappe with extra mocha sauce, right?" "And here's yours. Lemon black tea, no ice. You've ordered it hundreds of times." One by one, everyone gets their drink. By the time she reaches me, only an empty bag remains. Everyone at the table freezes. "Where's Aiden's drink?" She pushes her peach frappe toward me and says, "I forgot. He can just share mine." A friend immediately groans and complains, "It's the same every gathering. If you two want to show off how loving you are, can you at least come up with a new routine?" Everyone around us laughs and teases us, but I can't bring myself to even take a sip of the drink. I'm the only one who knows the truth. The display of affection is an act. In reality, she has truly forgotten to buy me a drink. After four years together, Bridget still can't remember that I'm allergic to peaches. I set the peach frappe back on the table. I've spent four years settling for less. Now, it's time for me to leave.

I'm down with a 104-degree fever, so I want to apply for sick leave. But my wife, Nadine Sullivan's assistant, Terrence Lowell, denies my leave and forces me to take on an overtime shift. "Ms. Sullivan has gone on a trip to a tropical island with her 18th lover. So, I'm the one calling the shots at the company for the time being. "You're not allowed to leave the company without my permission." Terrence makes my life difficult on purpose just so he can kiss up to Nadine. That's how he becomes her 19th lover. Unwilling to accept this fact, I call Nadine on the spot. But she says to me coldly, "Terrence's word is good as mine. It's just an overtime shift; what else can happen to you? You're so dramatic, Barry." Disappointment surges into my heart at that moment. "Let's get a divorce." Nadine just smiles mockingly. "Do you even have the guts to divorce me, Barry Thorpe? All you do is cause trouble nowadays! Don't forget that you still need me to pay for your mom's hospital bills every month!" As soon as the call is over, Terrence starts a poll in the company's group chat. "Barry has brought up divorce again. Do you think he'll go through with it or no?" Nadine quickly votes "no". But what she doesn't know is that I've already made all preparations to leave her for real.

At our college reunion, I returned from running an errand for my boyfriend and found my best friend sitting in my place. My wineglass and plate had been cleared away and replaced with a fresh set. There was no trace that I had ever been there. When I came back, Serena Blake started to rise, but Adrian Bennett pressed her back into the chair. "She doesn't understand our casework anyway. She'd only sit here and smile along." No one else dared respond. Everyone knew my family had collapsed financially while I was in college, forcing me to leave school for a semester. Back then, Adrian and Serena were the law school's celebrated dream team, winning every difficult mock case they touched. After graduation, they rose together at an elite corporate firm, while I was dismissed as the little assistant who only got hired because I was Adrian's girlfriend. I stood there stupidly, unsure what to do. Adrian took the cigarettes I had bought for him and casually gave me another order. "Serena wants a milkshake. Go get her one." He did not even look at me before turning back to their conversation. As they talked and laughed without me, something inside me finally went quiet. I no longer wanted to chase the person I had spent years trying to catch.

My name and the name of my girlfriend's assistant, who was in a lower grade than us, were homophonic. His last name was Reid, whereas mine was Reed. Shawn Reid mixed up our names yet again at the joint bachelor-bachelorette party the office was throwing for Anne Nash and me. Everyone was cheering and jeering at us as the banner celebrating the end of Anne's and my singlehood was unfurled. Someone read it aloud. “Congratulations to Anne and Shawn. Wishing you eternal happiness together!” The private room was plunged into silence. Shawn spoke cautiously. “Sorry, Sean. I accidentally got it wrong again.” I said nothing and turned to look at Anne. She didn’t even bat an eyelash and instead comforted Shawn. “It’s no big deal. He won’t mind.” Then, she walked over to stand in front of Sean while she confronted me. Just like every other time, she shielded Shawn behind her, looking at me with the same warning gaze. “Sean, it’s only a banner. “Shawny didn’t do it on purpose. “After all, everyone knows today it’s about us. Don’t sweat the small stuff, alright?”

It was the seventh year that I spent with Tristan Zabel. His junior from school, Cassandra White, cried over a breakup for the twelfth time in the middle of the night. He got anxious and put on his jacket to leave. “Jimelle, Cass’ supervisor is giving her a hard time, and she just got played by some douchebag. If I don’t go, she’s going to spiral, and something bad could happen to her.” In the past, I would turn hysterical, call her a fake, and block the door to keep him from leaving. But this time, I endured the cramps from my acute gastritis and calmly nodded. “Poor Cass. You should go be with her. Stay a few days if you need to.” Just then, Cassandra’s tearful voice came through his phone. “Tristan, I’m so scared! When are you coming?” He was stunned when he noticed the cold sweat on my forehead. “You look pale. I can stay tonight if you’re not feeling well—” “It’s fine. I’ll take some medicine and sleep it off.” I cut him off, pressed the car keys into his hand and said, “Go. Don’t keep her waiting.” He had no idea I was keeping score. It was strike twelve, and he had just run out of chances. Tomorrow, I would get on a plane and fly to the overseas headquarters with a visa in hand. By the time he realized I was gone, it would be too late for him to find me again.

My CEO husband had always been known to be professional, but he somehow handed over three years of my hard work to his childhood friend, Millie Quess. My eyes were red as I demanded, "I fought for this for over three years. How could you simply appoint her as the marketing manager before me?" Steve held my gaze and sighed. "I will make it up to you. But Millie has yet to establish herself in the company. She needs this more than you do. Also, call me Mr. Lahm—at the office, I'm your boss, not your husband." A stalemate ensued, only for Millie to mess up a ledger. She ran crying to Steve, who, despite his professionalism, ignored the millions of dollars lost and tenderly comforted her. Utterly disappointed, I took the wedding ring off my finger and dropped it on his desk. "That's enough. I'm resigning, effective immediately… As for you, we're getting a divorce." He had no idea that my father was the most powerful mafia Don of Sicily, or that his successes were the result of my business acumen and pulling strings behind the scenes. Once I was gone, all he had now would be reduced to nothing.

The annual company party featured a couples' trivia contest. The grand prize was a weekend spa getaway for two. Michael looked at me but he turned and grabbed my best friend Gina’s hand. "Gina and I have better chemistry," he said. "We have a better shot at winning." The host asked the final question, "What is your partner’s biggest fear?" Michael didn’t hesitate. "The dark. She’s been terrified of the dark since childhood." He was answering for Gina. My biggest fear was heights. He had never once gotten it right. They won. The host teased, "With chemistry like that, are you sure you two aren't a couple?" Gina laughed and leaned playfully against his shoulder. "Oh, stop. We just wanted the prize." Michael didn't pull away. After the party, he handed the voucher to me. "Let’s go together." Before I could even answer, he added, "We should bring Gina, too. Her skin is sensitive. She can test the spa waters for us first." It was always like this. Every vacation, she stayed in the room first. Every restaurant, she tried the food first. Every new place we went, she had to experience it first. And with every "test," their connection only grew deeper. I slipped the voucher back into his hand. "You two go," I said. "No need to test it for me anymore.”

While packing Ethan's flight bag, I found a custom solo wings pin. The engraving on the back read: For Lark, to celebrate your first solo. Beneath the box sat the receipt for Skyler's flight school tuition, paid in full by Ethan, along with a photograph. In the photo, she was sitting in the pilot's seat. Ethan's gloved hand rested over hers on the control yoke. Seven years ago, I had sat in that same seat. Back then, I was one step away from my first solo flight, but Ethan talked me out of it again and again, always claiming it was "for my own good." He said flying was dangerous, that someone had to stay home and take care of things. I put down my logbook, pressed the wrinkles out of every one of his captain's uniforms, and spent seven years living by his flight schedule. Only now did I finally understand. It wasn't that he didn't want to take anyone flying. He just didn't want to take me. What made it even more absurd was that the night Skyler first flew through the clouds, I was alone in a hospital, losing our baby. I called him over a dozen times. At three in the morning, he finally called back, his voice flat and indifferent. "I just took Lark through the clouds. Next time something comes up, give me a heads-up." I put the wings pin back exactly where I found it, then pulled the crumpled ultrasound printout from the bottom of the drawer and tucked it inside the logbook that had been gathering dust for seven years. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to look back. He convinced me to leave the pilot's seat, then turned around and put another woman in the sky. So I would leave him and take back the sky that had always been mine.

After saving money with Justin Pierre for five years, we finally went to view a house. My best friend, Maria Houston, came along too. "The master bedroom needs a walk-in closet. Can we knock down this wall?" she asked Justin while pointing at the floor plan I had been looking at for the past six months. "I'll get a designer to take a look tomorrow. You can change it however you want." The two of them discussed everything, from the direction the apartment faced to the tiles, from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the bathtub. Meanwhile, I stood in the corner, unable to get a word in. When it was time to sign the papers, he seemed to suddenly remember I was here and said, "We'll put this place under Maria's name for now. She's here all by herself, so consider it a company benefit. The company is a little tight on cash lately. You can keep renting for another two years." However, I had also left my hometown behind to build a life with him from nothing five years ago. Back then, we had squeezed into a tiny apartment without even air-conditioning, and he had made me a promise with absolute certainty. "Once the company takes off, the first thing I'll do is give you a home." Now that the company had finally succeeded, the first home he bought was for someone else. I stared at the two signatures side by side on the contract and realized there was no place for my name. Since he had already planned a future that did not include me, I was not going to wait for him anymore. Thinking about it, I opened the page to terminate my lease and confirmed it.

I know my chances of getting promoted are gone the moment I find out that Henry Zeller joined the company through connections. Henry is Yvonne Parker's first love, the one man she still hasn't gotten over. After the promotion is announced, Henry comes over. "If I were you, I wouldn't have expected any other outcome. You knew I was in the running," he says smugly. "After all these years, you should've known that it doesn't matter that you're her husband. I'll always be her first choice." I stare at him. I can't even remember how many times I've lost to him since he reentered my life. There was my last birthday, when Yvonne chose to go hiking with him. Then there was our anniversary, when she left me to go to him because he said he was scared. I don't remember anymore. All I know is that I've been waiting for this promotion for three years. Henry knows it, and so does Yvonne. After five years of marriage, I thought she would at least let me win once. But, once again, I lost. I look over wearily at Yvonne in the distance. I don't feel like competing with Henry anymore. I can't spend the rest of my life letting a woman who doesn't love me decide whether I get to win or lose.

During the thunderstorm, I struggled through the Pack Institute alone, dragging a heavy feed cart behind me. My rain-soaked lab coat clung to my skin, and my shoes were caked with mud. The message I had sent through the mind-link to my fated mate, Arthur Voss, half an hour ago was still unanswered. "Could you come down and bring me an umbrella?" I should have heard back from him instantly, but there was still no response. The power had gone out in the animal facility during the downpour. I pulled out my nearly dead phone and found Arthur's number. He was listed as the lab's emergency contact. My finger hovered over the call button. Then I looked up. Through the thick curtain of rain, I saw two figures sitting side by side inside the glass-walled lab. They were my mate, Arthur, and Lina Brooks, a junior researcher in our lab. He was gently ruffling Lina's hair. "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything for you." The instruments on the table were the same ones I had begged Arthur to teach me to use three years ago. His voice was as gentle as I'd ever heard it. I remembered how I had been when I first met Arthur. Back then, I was too scared to take a cab alone. When my wolf spiraled out of control, I would panic. When problems came up, I would hide. When an experiment failed, I would call him for help and keep him on the phone for three hours. Every single time, he brushed aside my pleas for help. "Irene, you need to solve your own problems. You can't keep waiting for someone to rescue you." So I learned. I gritted my teeth and handled everything alone. When samples were contaminated, I tracked down the cause myself. When a project fell apart, I dealt with it on my own. I spent countless nights teaching myself technical skills that had once seemed impossible to master. Yet none of it ever earned me even a hint of his approval. I looked down. This time, I didn't hesitate. With the last sliver of battery, I deleted Arthur's number.

Three years into our marriage, my husband, Derek, confessed that he'd met his true love. He sat across from me, eyes brimming with sincerity. "I was too young back then. You were the only person I ever dated, and I rushed into marriage. "It wasn't until I met Vivian that I understood what real love is. "Just sign the divorce papers already. Set me free." I glanced at the scar on his temple. Without a word, I signed the papers.

There were only two seats left at the company dinner. One was in the corner, and the other was beside my secret boyfriend of three years, Julian Locke. I had barely taken a step forward when Julian called out to my best friend, Capri Leigh. "Capri, sit here." My coworkers immediately squealed with excitement. The group chat went wild too. "They look so good together. Just seeing them sitting next to each other is a treat!" "Has Mr. Locke ever asked someone to sit with him before?" "I bet he's got a thing for Capri. I don't care. I'm shipping them anyway!" Throughout the dinner, Julian avoided even looking at me to keep people from getting suspicious. Even when a server burned my hand while bringing out a dish, he was still taking Capri's drinks for her. At that moment, one thought suddenly hit me. I didn't want to stay in this secret relationship anymore.

I was the most renowned pediatrician in the pack. On the day we administered the VRX-17 vaccine I'd introduced, the pups were infected en masse. A neurotropic virus swept through the pediatric ward, killing two pups. Several more developed encephalitis, pneumonia, and permanent paralysis. The Werewolf Court convicted me of deliberate harm. I pleaded desperately that the vaccine was contaminated. But when the drug was sent for testing, the batch number and properties all came back normal. How was that possible? I'd tested the vaccine myself, and my results clearly showed something was wrong. I couldn't accept it. I sought out expert after expert to verify my findings, but every single one told me the vaccine was fine. The judge and the officers wore grim expressions as they spoke. "Ma'am, you can't defraud the pack's medical system like this." "Think of the pups you killed. What had they ever done to deserve it?" In the end, I was sentenced to death for causing a catastrophic medical incident. My parents were accused of aiding my violations. They were stripped of their positions and died under a torrent of blame and injustice. I learned of their deaths before my execution. Even as the wolfsbane seeped into my veins, all I could feel was regret. When I opened my eyes again, a nurse was about to push VRX-17 into a pup's vein.

The night before the Fourth of July holiday, my husband gathered the entire company for what I thought would finally be our long-awaited public announcement. Instead, his clueless assistant burst into the room wearing a wedding dress. "Cameron, I'm here to marry you." He didn't turn her down. If anything, his eyes softened with unmistakable affection as he promoted her to vice president on the spot. The entire company erupted in cheers for their love story. When my coworkers noticed me standing frozen off to the side, one of them couldn't resist reminding me. "Stephanie, you've been with Mr. Cox for nine years. You can't let a moment this special pass without saying something!" I smiled, walked onto the stage, slipped off my wedding ring, and tossed it to Poppy Campbell. "What kind of wedding doesn't come with a ring? Here, take it."

I completed my internship when someone caught me kissing my boyfriend and the director, James Porter, in the parking garage. A photo appeared in the company group chat soon after. To protect my chance at becoming a permanent employee, he denied everything in front of the entire office. "The woman in the photo isn't her. She's my childhood friend." His childhood friend stepped forward and took responsibility for the office‑romance rumor. She had one condition. James Porter had to complete 100 couple challenges with her. Once they finished all of them, she would clear our names and explain the truth. James held me in his arms and comforted me. "Baby, it's only 100 things. Once we're done, I'll make our relationship public." They reached the ninety‑ninth challenge when they lost the challenge book and had to start again. During the second round, they accidentally skipped one. During the third round, they decided to film the challenges. Before long, they became a couple‑content sensation. Millions of followers obsessed over them. Meanwhile, I went from intern to permanent employee. I waited from the age of twenty‑three until I turned twenty‑eight. Every time I reached my breaking point, James gave me the same answer. "Just a few more. Hang in there." On our fifth anniversary, I carried a cake to find him. Halfway there, my period cramps hit so hard that I collapsed into muddy water as a torrential downpour crashed around me. His car was parked in front of me. I felt too much pain to stand, and for once, I believed he would help me. He glanced at me, walked past me, and pulled his rain‑soaked childhood friend into his arms. She held up her phone with a grin. "Today's challenge is a boyfriend exclusively devoted to me for 24 hours. "If you touch her, we'll have to start again from challenge number one." James stayed silent for 2 seconds. Then he opened the car door for her. Just before the door closed, a message from him appeared on my phone. [Baby, it's the last day. Just hang in there a little longer.] That night, his childhood friend posted the hundredth and final couple challenge. In the video, she stood in a wedding dress and held out her hand to James. [Challenge 100: Marry the man who completed the first ninety‑nine challenges with me.] James did not deny it. He replied with a heart. I looked down at the cake, now ruined and soaking in muddy water, and I laughed. Five years. He still was not tired of playing this game. I was done waiting.

For all four years of college, my girlfriend Vanessa Moore never once let anyone know we were together. "Dating someone in your own class is asking for trouble. If we break up, it'll be humiliating." To keep our distance, I never dared say a single word to her in front of other people. But Marcus Hale, the guy she grew up with, got to be glued to her side. On the way to the graduation party, a white sedan swerved out of nowhere and slammed into my car. Glass sliced open my face and my arm. When the dizziness cleared, I saw Marcus in the other car, smiling like he had just pulled something off. Blood kept dripping from the cuts. I was pinned, and I couldn't move an inch. Then Vanessa's car came down the road toward us. I called out for help until my voice went raw. She walked straight past me to Marcus. "Are you okay? Where are you hurt?" Leaning on my girlfriend's arm, Marcus limped over to her car and got in. She didn't come for me first. Ten minutes later Vanessa finally walked back, but she stopped three feet away. "It's the graduation party today. Everyone will be there. We have to keep our distance even more carefully. "I heard someone already called an ambulance, so just hang on. I'm taking him to the hospital first." Then she drove off without looking back. She had never intended to save me. My white shirt was soaked through red, and the pain shooting through my body cleared my head completely. A love that never answers back is a love you should put down.

To avoid being the topic of gossip, I could only use disposable items every time I went to my girlfriend, Erica Livingston's, house. She made me use disposable slippers in her house, and disposable utensils when we had our meals. Even when I stayed the night, she prepared disposable sheets for me. "If someone saw any of your things at my house, I wouldn't know how to explain it," she would tell me every time. "I'll get you everything you deserve once we go public." I waited three years for that to happen, and I had to enter her house every time as if I was a guest. This continued until one day, when she held a birthday party for her assistant, Ryan Strobe, at her house. When I opened the door, I saw Ryan taking out their matching house slippers from the shoe cabinet in her house. Erica's best friends arrived next and wore all of the other disposable house slippers available at her house. I was left standing by myself at the door. "You can come in barefoot. It's not cold in the summer," Erica said to me without looking up. It felt like she was calling out to a stranger to enter her house. I stared at the table, full of food, from afar, with utensils printed with Ryan's favorite anime character. In the far corner was a pair of cheap, disposable utensils that belonged to me, and I suddenly felt like everything I had with her was disposable as well. It was time that this love that was buried deep in secret should also be disposable to me, and I should throw it away now that I was done with it.

On my wedding day, the car drops me off at the banquet hall's back service entrance. I'm the groom, yet they send me through the trash passage. Sabina York opens my door and orders me around like she always does. "You'll go in through the back, and I'll take Caleb through the front. We can't let our coworkers see us together." Before I can even respond, she drives away with Caleb Yeoman. I'm left standing alone in the filthy water. It's the 99th time she abandons me to keep people from talking. For eight years, we've kept our relationship under wraps. She says dating a coworker will hurt my reputation, so she uses her best friend Caleb as a cover for us at every turn. During company trips, Caleb gets the passenger seat beside her. Instead, I spend ten hours on a bus just to catch up with them on the way home. When our project succeeds, she promotes Caleb, who is my teammate. She then makes me, the most senior person on the team, report to him. Even our wedding invitation has Caleb's name on it. After eight years together, I still have no place in her life that she's willing to acknowledge. I keep telling myself she does all of this for my sake. I race through the trash passage, covered in filth, and make it inside with five minutes to spare. But Sabina is already walking down the aisle with Caleb, taking the place that should be mine. They exchange their vows at the same time, and the room erupts in cheers. "My favorite couple is finally married!" In that very moment, everything becomes clear. After eight years, I finally realize I'm the only person she ever wants to keep her distance from. So I give her exactly what she wants and remove myself from this blatant display of favoritism for good. The music starts up again, and the officiant announces the ring exchange. Sabina spots me and awkwardly turns toward me, holding out the ring. I just smile and pull my hand away when she secretly reaches for it. "You don't have to hide anymore. Go ahead and get married."

The company organizes a team hike. When it's time to split into groups, I look at Malcolm Ridgeway, the man I've been secretly dating for two years. I expect him to pick me. Instead, he turns to Savannah Leclair, his childhood friend who just got back from being abroad. "You tire out easily. Join my group, I'll look out for you." Savannah links her arm through his like it's the most natural thing in the world. Our coworkers eat it up. "Childhood sweethearts really are something else. Malcolm, you're still single, right? You two would be perfect together." Malcolm doesn't pull away. He just says, "Yeah, I don't have a girlfriend." I freeze. Just last night, he holds me and promises he'll tell everyone about us soon. But until the groups are set, he doesn't look at me once. I end up in the open group and sprain my ankle halfway up the trail. I text him, "Malcolm, I can't walk." He reads it and doesn't reply. I wait 40 minutes, and the only thing that comes through is a group photo from the summit. He has his arm around Savannah, grinning. The comments underneath are full of people gushing over them. Someone even tags me, "June, you fell behind? Don't hold us up." "Even Savannah made it and you couldn't?" "If you can't keep up, don't come." So, I walk down the mountain alone. At the base, Malcolm is calling a car for Savannah. He sees me limping and just frowns. "Didn't I tell you not to message me directly? If a coworker sees it, they'll get the wrong idea." It hits me all at once. A secret relationship is just a relationship he can deny whenever he wants. Well, he's getting his wish. He doesn't have a girlfriend anymore.