Guilt About Cheating Novels & Stories

When the kidnapper fired the gun, I shielded Scott with my body. The bullet pierced my heart, and I was sent overseas to have my heart exchanged with an artificial one—one that ran on a battery. Because of this heart, Scott married me, and my friends congratulated me for finally having my wish granted, for finally marrying my childhood sweetheart. Later, when I laid there on the operating table with my chest cut open, he was kissing another woman under the moonlight. I didn't react to this in the slightest, recovering my heart in silence. Scott resented my numbness, grabbing my shoulders as he demanded, "Wendy, aren't you angry about this?" He didn't know the reason, and to be honest, it was quite simple. Why be angry when my heart was on the verge of giving out? Every passionate day he spent chasing after love… Was another tick in the countdown to the end of my life.

On the highway, when the vehicles of drivers on the same stretch of road went out of control and rushed towards us, Wynn Lloyd protected me by holding me close beneath him. As a result, he ended up in the emergency room, battered.In the hospital ward, a friend praised, "Your husband is really good to you. When the car came crashing, he protected you with his life, not caring about his own."I remained silent.Indeed, he was good, but it didn't stop him from liking someone else.Wynn and I had known each other since childhood, for over a decade, and everyone said he loved me to death.But who would have thought that such a person had a mistress on the side?He pampered her in every possible way, indulging her to the extreme.

My husband’s childhood sweetheart pushed me off the cruise ship on purpose when she found out I was pregnant. I did not scream for help. Instead, I held onto my mother-in-law, who had fallen in too, and fought to survive. In my last life, I had screamed for help in the sea. My husband jumped in with others and saved both me and his mother. But his beloved ex, stained with blood, attracted a shark and was torn apart in the water. After she died, my husband said she deserved it for pushing me. He treated me with care and guilt, acting like the perfect husband. But when the baby was born, he killed him. "It is your fault, you wretch. I lost the woman I loved because of you. Now it is your turn to feel that pain!” I used everything I had left to drag him to death with me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the ocean—right before it all happened.

At the bachelorette's party before the wedding, Juliet Stone's best friend speaks with her in their hometown's dialect. "The video that's posted in our group chat was taken in your and Hugo's new home, right? Doesn't that mean you've been cheating on him blatantly this whole time? You go, girl!" Juliet shoots her a mysterious smile. "Yeah. You know that I've always had a bad heart, so I couldn't carry out strenuous exercises. After undergoing the heart transplant surgery, I think that if I only get to sleep with one man for the rest of my life, it'll be dull and boring." A pause later, she adds, "I plan on unlocking 100 locations with my lover before the wedding starts. But once I've gone through the wedding, I won't sleep around anymore and choose to stay devoted to Hugo instead." I can only clutch my chest tightly, where an artificial heart beats silently. Juliet has no idea that I've specifically learned her dialect in order to bond with her family even better. Of course, I've already discovered the fact that she has been cheating on me with our wedding planner for a very long time. That's why I decide to hide something from her as well. I've already booked the euthanizing service that's provided overseas. On the wedding day that Juliet has been greatly anticipating, I'll have disappeared beyond the ocean. Later on, even if Juliet does track me down using all of her resources, all she can find is nothing but my ashes.

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

After failing to get her fiance, Austin Langford, to sleep with her for the 99th time, Cara Reyes calls up her best friend, Jessica Hogan, and says, "Jess, I'm coming to Spark City to find you." Almost immediately, the sound of a chair slamming on the ground comes through from the other end of the line. Jessica's excited voice is then heard. "Cara! You've finally thought it through! I've told you a long time ago that Austin isn't good for you! He looks too weak!" Cara's red-rimmed eyes light up a little as she smiles. "Yeah. I've thought it through." "Don't be sad, Cara. Once you're in Spark City, I'll introduce you to a new foreign boyfriend with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and perfect body proportions. Their genes here are all top-notch, and you will definitely have a beautiful baby with them!" Nodding, Cara says, "Alright. Let me go and get my marriage certificate back first." After ending the call, Cara lies down in bed and falls asleep with a heavy heart. Sometime during midnight, someone pulls back the covers and slides in next to her, his warm body settling down just about an arm's length away from her. A short while later, Cara hears the rustling of clothes and the man panting softly beside her. Cara's body goes numb like she's just been electrocuted. However, she still slowly turns her head back to take a closer look.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.

The night I find out I'm pregnant, my family's villa suddenly goes up in flames. I endure the suffocating smoke and run the risk of being disfigured as I run to my son's bedroom. However, it's empty. Just then, I hear his excited exclamations outside the window. "Monica, you look so cool when putting out fires! I bet you'll get first place in this upcoming Firefighter Challenge!" I'm about to head downstairs to lecture him when a wall collapses and crushes me. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I hear my stern, stoic husband praise Monica Sloan for her courage. If I'm guessing correctly, my husband and son have started this fire to please her. I stare at the door, which is so close and yet so far. I send out one final text before dying of asphyxiation.

When enemies came seeking revenge, my brother was off with his first love, chasing a golden sunrise over the mountains. I didn't beg him to save us. Instead, I dragged my sister-in-law to safety, dodging killers. In my last life, my brother rushed home, but his first love got caught in an avalanche. Before she passed, she texted him, accusing me and my sister-in-law of humiliating her with money and threatening her to leave him. The fateful trip was her final wish. Her death crushed me with guilt, but my brother dismissed it, holding a perfunctory funeral for her before moving on. I thought he had recommitted to his family, but while my sister-in-law recovered from childbirth, he slipped poison into our meal. "How do I have such a vile sister like you?" he spat. "And you... I only married you for family interests. You two killed the love of my life!" He set the house on fire, burning us alive. Even his newborn son wasn't spared. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day.