Lesbian Mistress Novels & Stories

Sylvia Frost and Victor Rothwell's wedding had been postponed 33 times. This time, it happened on the night before the ceremony. She was struck by a car and left with 19 broken bones. She was rushed to the ICU three separate times before her condition finally stabilized. Once she was strong enough to leave her bed, she braced herself against the wall and shuffled into the hallway. As she reached the corner, she overheard her fiancé speaking with a friend. "Last time it was drowning. This time you used a car. That gets you another two months. What are you going to do next?" Sylvia's blood turned to ice. Victor stood there in his white coat, his phone turning slowly in his hand. "No more delays." His voice remained flat.

All along, I've been following a social media account that's dedicated to a couple sharing about their romance. It doesn't have a lot of followers, but the posts are all very heartwarming. The owner of the account records all the little details about his relationship with his girlfriend. They get into arguments over a plate of pasta before breaking into laughter and calling each other an overgrown child. They climb up the hill to hold each other under the sky full of stars, wishing they could make time pause at that very moment. Even though the owner of the account never reveals his face, I am always moved by the words he writes. The day before my wedding, the owner uploads a new post. "This marks the end of our ten-year relationship. From now on, she'll be his wife, and I'll only be his friend. There won't be any more updates to this account. I wish nothing but the best for my best friend and the woman he loves the most." The picture uploaded with this caption is one of my fiancee and me, taken from behind.

On the seventh year of our anniversary, the anniversary gift my husband, Anthony Walker, has given me is a divorce agreement that is valid for seven days. He has planned all this just because he has his eye on a female intern in his company, who is seven years younger than him. So, he wants to be in a legitimate relationship with her that only lasts for seven days. On the first day, they reserve an entire cinema for themselves. After that, they make love to each other from the doorway to the seats. On the second day, they set off fireworks at the beach. The fireworks are so bright that half of the city is illuminated by them. On the fifth day, the intern, Tanya Lindt, barges into my art exhibition. With tears running down her face, she accuses me of being the side chick in her relationship in front of the mass media. That night, news of a rising female painter becoming a homewrecker for the sake of love goes viral. More than 100 thousand malicious comments directed at me are posted in the comment section. On the sixth day, Anthony apologizes to me on Tanya's behalf. Apparently, the punishment he has set for her is that she's not allowed to go shopping for three days. On the seventh day, Anthony finally realizes that something is wrong. He calls me 99 times just to remind me that we'll get remarried the next day. "Okay," I say to him. Then, I inform my assistant to check in my baggage. What Anthony doesn't know is that I already came up with a plan to further my studies overseas seven days ago. This time, I'm not going to waste my time on him anymore.

By my third month on the job, I discovered that my coworkers had been calling me "the old crow" behind my back. The nickname came from none other than Jace's condescending secretary—because at 32, I was still clutching onto an eight-year relationship that hadn't ended in marriage. I confronted Jace. "Do you know your employees have been calling me the old crow?" He didn't even bother to look up. "That's just Sadie—she speaks her mind and means no harm. You're 32; why get so worked up over what a young girl says?" Then he gave me a faint, mocking smile. "Though honestly, it's a pretty fitting nickname." It felt like a cold hand had wrapped around my heart. So that was it—eight years of my youth, nothing more than a joke to him. I turned and walked away, handed in my resignation, and blocked every way he could reach me. But for the first time, the man who had always seemed so calm and untouchable finally panicked. "Elara," he pleaded, "please come back."

Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts. According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday. Inside the walnut was a slip of paper. 'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it. When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop. Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life. As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married. When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it. This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside. In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

I give up being with my family and follow my boyfriend, Leon Burton, to a research institute in the harsh land of Aetheris, just to take care of him. One day, he discovers an asteroid. According to the law in our country, the person who discovers an asteroid holds the right to name it. Without even stopping to think, he says, "I'll name it Phoebe." Everyone is stunned. Naming an asteroid is a significant event, but Leon makes his decision too hastily. The person in charge asked again, "Are you sure you want to name it that?" Leon nods without hesitation. Standing in a corner where no one can see me, I can't stop crying. Only I knew that "Phoebe" is the name of his first love, Phoebe Jones. Wiping away my tears, I call my mother. "Mom, I've decided to marry Nathan. I'm leaving Aetheris."

For the past seven years, I've been taking care of my paralyzed mother-in-law in the countryside on my own till the day she draws her last breath. That's when I finally get to see my husband, Arthur Hughes, whom I haven't seen for a very long time, hurrying back to the countryside. After the funeral, I pack up everything belonging to me and our daughter, Tessa Hughes, seeing as we're about to move to the city with Arthur soon. To my surprise, a woman seeks me out and shows me her marriage certificate. "I'm the actual wife of Arthur Hughes. Now that my mother-in-law has passed away, you've completed your mission. From now on, you are not allowed to contact Arthur anymore." I remain rooted to the spot, my body already shaking like a leaf uncontrollably. At that moment, I feel as though my mother-in-law is laughing at my stupidity, based on how she's smiling at me from her portrait.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

In their four years of marriage, Ethan Sterling had always refused to visit any romantic couple destinations with his wife, Pearl Whitmore. He said she was shallow and just chasing trends. However, when his first love came back from overseas, he could not wait to take her up the legendary mountain where it was said couples who climbed it successfully would grow old together. Pearl divorced him and moved abroad. However, Ethan followed her to the new country, sobbing as he searched for her in the ruins...

On the first night of our graduation trip, the class representative, Gordon Perkins, suggests that we draw lots in order to get our rooms assigned to us. "Let fate decide the pairs who get to stay in the same room as long as they have the same number, regardless of their gender! Imagine how exciting this is!" Throughout my four-year college life, Ivan Decker and I have been in a relationship for three of those years. No one knows about our relationship, though. I pull out a ball from the box and await my partner. When it's Ivan's turn, he draws out a ball with the number seven. Gordon raises his voice immediately. "The other lucky person who gets to stay in room seven is… Rebecca Benson!" Rebecca, the young woman whom Ivan has pursued in a high-profile manner in the past, goes bright red. Everyone cheers on them right away, claiming that Lady Fate really wants them to be together. But I'm the only one who stays silent. No one knows that I've heard Gordon secretly tell Ivan something before it's time to draw lots. "Look for the ball with the raised dot. I specially saved those ones for you and Rebecca." As I look at Ivan, who walks over to Rebecca and picks up her suitcase for her with a soft smile, I find myself smiling as well. It turns out that Ivan never plans on making our relationship official despite having waited for him for three years. This time, I decide to be the one who leaves first.