Hope He Cheats Novels & Stories

I kind of have a knot in my gut.I suddenly lost all sense of hope..also i wasn't hoping or wishing that there'll be "something" between us..Does that mean that he has a girl?Or does that mean that he has some side chicks everywhere,and that he's trying to include me in it..?Or maybe he's just cheating on an innocent girl who trusted him,who gave him all her time,love and affection..I just hope that he's not cheating on anyone behind their backs..because it hurts so much..i know what i'm talking about..But if it is not the case then i hope that he's not flirting with everything that moves,just because he's sexy,handsome and..a bad guy.

Not to mention, she also brought an extra three hundred million dollars home. The bewildered Christian came back to his senses just as Yoana and Edwin were leaving. He glared at Yoana, his face grim. “Ms. Mendoza! Did you cheat?!” “Cheat?!” Yoana turned back swiftly, her face so cold it could freeze hell itself. “Stop being such a sore loser, Christian!” “Are you insulting everyone’s intelligence with that accusation, or are you questioning your own abysmal one?!” “Isn’t St. Hope well-known for being fair and square? Didn’t you claim that no one has a chance to cheat here?!”

she had whispered, her voice so weak, yet filled with a strange kind of hope. “You’re going to marry me one day, right?” I had promised her then. It was an innocent promise at that instant of pain we shared but it joined us anyhow. And now, years later, I wondered if this was all I had to keep me alive. I opened my eyes and leaned forward again, looking carefully at the papers. While Marcus Donovan could have simply been referred to as an irresponsible gambling addict; still, there was something that I wanted to know more about concerning what led to that air crash.

I hope ****

But now I knew—the guy who always put me first, who handed over company shares like it was nothing, could still cheat. "It's nothing," I said. "Someone called you earlier. I picked up, but they didn't say anything. Local number. Maybe a friend? Here." I handed him the phone, eyes locked on him. He took it like it was no big deal. "Probably a wrong number. Don't stress." But I saw it—that little finger twitch on the screen. I knew that move. He was lying. "Babe, why don't you go rest?" he said. "I just remembered a file at work I forgot to finish."

He bitterly looked up at his surroundings and his gaze landed on Fane. He stared at Fane with a pleading expression and said “I'm really done for now! I'll definitely be punished. Do you think I can cheat?" Rudy had started to panic and started to blurt everything out. Fane's lips twitched as he frowned and replied, "If you want to cheat, you'll have to be able to cheat in the first place. Who's going to help you cheat, and how will you cheat?"

“And when do you plan to tell me about this?” “On our honeymoon. I was planning to surprise you. Guess that will no longer happen,” Sebastian reasons. Now I'm really good at spotting lies just by looking at someone's face, but as I look at Sebastian, there's nothing but disappointment. Perhaps he's telling the truth. Of course he is. There's no way he's ever going to cheat on me. “Hi, I'm Hope Smith. You must be Mister Steele’s fiance?” The lady speaks in an utterly illuminating and articulate way. Just by the way she pronounces one word, I immediately know she's professional.

“I swear, I can explain. That wasn’t what he looked like.” Looking at me, he whispered painfully. “You know I won’t cheat on Aria.” The urge to raise my palm and hit him hard across the face became so overwhelming that I had to grip my trousers so as not to react on impulse. “I know you won’t cheat on Aria?” A bitter laugh escaped me as I looked at him in disbelief. “I guess you don’t consider not cheating until you’re caught in bed with some blondie, right?” “What the fuck is wrong with you men? Why are you all so unreliable?” I yelled.

“Okay.” “Okay?” I laugh bitterly. “That’s all you have?” “No,” he says carefully. “I have more. But you’re not ready to hear it.” “Try me.” “I think you’re hurting,” he says. “And when you hurt, you cling to certainty. Even ugly certainty.” “That’s bullshit.” “Is it?” he asks quietly. “Because right now, believing he cheated is easier than believing you might’ve been manipulated.” I stiffen. “Manipulated by who?”