Cheating Housewife

Once upon a time, Kayla thought she and Winston would be together until the day they died. She would never have expected them to take separate paths so soon. After retrieving her diagnosis report, she sees him holding another woman in his arms. A final tear trickles down her face. She's tired and doesn't want to use whatever time she has left to argue with him. She makes the arrangements for everything that will happen after her death. Then, she prepares a final gift for Winston. From this day onward, she'll leave for the afterworld while he remains on Earth. They won't see each other again.

Chuck Bassett, heir to an Urbington East fortune in Nuvark City, has dated 42 girlfriends—all foreign, all in white dresses, every single one with a mole at the corner of her eyebrow. People joke about his obsession, saying he'll never get over his first love, Lylith Fowler. Then, Lorrie Scarrow shows up. She's sharp, short-haired, hates dresses, and her eyes are clear and bright. She's nothing like the women he's dated before. Chuck buys her a private island. When she mentions how much she loves the stars, he fills the sky above their estate with millions of drones, crafting a shimmering galaxy just for her. He even gets her initial tattooed beneath his collarbone. Everyone is amazed. Chuck has finally moved on from the past. Even Lorrie starts to believe it. Until she spots him in the red-light district, shelling out a fortune to book a hostess for a whole month. The woman has short hair and a button-down shirt. She looks just like Lorrie. Chuck's friends are floored. "Have you lost your mind? Lylith changed her look, and now you're after someone who looks even more like her? Remember how she dumped you for that wealthy foreign businessman when she thought you were broke? "She only came crawling back after she found out you're the heir to one of the Four Great Families. You've always said there's nothing you hate more than women like that!" Chuck knocks back the shot. "I hate her, and I love her. She pulled me out of a fire ten years ago. No one else can ever replace her in my heart." "And what about Lorrie? You proposed to her! She gave up a career at one of the world's top design firms for you. Aren't you worried she'll walk away when she finds out?" Chuck leans back on the couch, his expression cold. "I won't marry a traitor. Lorrie's pure, innocent—the closest thing to how Lylith used to be. So I'll still marry her. She loves me too much to walk away." Unseen in the shadows, Lorrie stands frozen, her heart plummeting. Turns out, she's just another her.

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 night before our wedding, Desmond Arlington got jumped out of nowhere. By the time I made it to the hospital, he stared at me like I was a total stranger. Doctor said it was memory loss—some brain rattle from the hit. Temporary, supposedly. So I went full nostalgia tour, dragging him back to all our spots, hoping something would click. Then one day at the hospital, I caught him running his mouth with his buddy. "Rhea's trying so hard. Doesn't that do anything for you?" "Do what? I'm over it. Same spots, same girl. The new ones are way more fun." "So why marry her? Just call it off and live your life." He snapped, "Shut up. I LOVE Rhea. I'd never bail on the wedding. I'm just... pushing it back a bit." I looked down at the test results—zero issues. Everything normal. And that's when it hit me: you can't help a faker.

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

On the day Andrew Selwyn is elected as the pack's Beta, we promise to have our bonding ceremony a month later. Seven days away from the ceremony, he suddenly decides to pursue his first love, Lucy Grimm. He wants to make up for the time they had lost apart. If he gets back together with Lucy, he hopes I will give them my blessing. If he can't win her over, he'd let go of his obsession and return to complete the ceremony. He'd spend the rest of his life loving and protecting me. Gazing at his sincere expression, I smile and say, "Alright. As long as it makes you happy, I won't stop you." The moment he turns and leaves, I can no longer hold back my tears. All along, Andrew's heart belonged to someone else. Later, I contact my best friend, Selena Jones, through the mind link. "My bonding ceremony has been canceled," I say flatly, my voice thick with helplessness. "Didn't you want me to lead the research team at your institute out of town? I'll do it. When do we leave?"

On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Oliver Parker, asks me to take off my wedding gown. He wants to let his childhood friend, Angela Summers, be the bride instead. In helplessness, he tries to explain, "Angela has leukemia. Her dying wish is to be a bride and have a wedding. Once I've fulfilled her wish, I'll marry you." Everyone seems to think I'll just go along with it and wait for him to come back and marry me. After all, I've spent three years preparing for this wedding. I've poured my heart into every detail and devoted so much time to making it perfect. However, while Oliver and Angela celebrate their wedding that night, I gave my biological parents a call to tell them I'm coming to be with them. I board a red-eye flight out of Stonevale, leaving everything behind without looking back. … Three years later, I flew back to Stonevale with my husband, Daniel Holden, to attend the anniversary celebration of the Holden Group's Stonevale branch. However, I never expected to run into Oliver at the airport. "You've been gone for three years. Isn't that enough time to let things go? Angela's leukemia is cured, and we're divorced now. Come back to me. Let's finally have our wedding. Don't be so stubborn anymore!"

My fiance called me to post bail after he was arrested. When I arrived, however, I was informed that he was caught in a compromising position. "I came to protect Lily because I was worried for her safety," my fiance retorted, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But her boyfriend didn't believe me. Or is it the same for you too? Go post bail already." Nonetheless, I spied the lacy underwear poking out ever so slightly over his belt. In the past, I would have made a scene as I demanded an explanation. But now, I was as cool as a cucumber. When the cops asked what our relationship was, I paused in thought for a moment, before saying quietly, "His employer." Once I signed the papers, I texted my brother: [I'll go on that blind date. Schedule it for three days later.]

"Ms. Longstaff, are you saying the wedding will proceed as planned, but the bride will be replaced with someone else? Is that correct?" Faced with the staff member's puzzled expression, Heather Longstaff nodded without hesitation. "Yes, the wedding will take place in two weeks as scheduled. I'll deliver the revised materials to you in the next few days." "Understood. Should I inform Mr. Bennett about—" "There's no need!" Heather cut the other person off, her voice sharp with emotion. Noticing the startled look on the staff member's face, she quickly composed herself and explained, "He's busy. All wedding-related matters should come directly to me from now on." This wedding was meant to be her final gift to Mitchell. And like any gift, it had to remain a surprise until the very last moment.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.