Spouse Cheating Stories Novels & Stories

On New Year's Eve, my daughter was critically ill. As she took her last breath, she said she just wanted to see her father one last time. But I couldn't bear to tell her the truth that her father was with someone else's child, lighting fireworks and celebrating New Year's Eve together. Beside me, calls continued being made, but none of them went through. My daughter passed away with regret in her heart, and I followed her into despair, jumping to end it all. Now that I've been given a second chance to live again, I looked at the man in front of me whose eyes were full of guilt and helplessness. However, my heart remained calm. "Just this once, Mariah. Tonya is sick, and she really needs me—" I cut him off and went to pick up my daughter. "Get out of my sight."

My boyfriend is a lauded attorney. His true love rams into me with her car; my daughter stands bravely before me as the car explodes. She's blown to smithereens. I'm on the brink of death as I'm carried onto a stretcher, but my boyfriend holds his true love's face tenderly. His gaze is filled with heartache as he tells her that he'll get her off scot-free. He ruins the scene of the accident and buys off the witnesses. He even comes to the hospital to threaten me after I've been disfigured from the explosion. In the end, I die after the treatment doesn't help. It's only when the court announces the sentence that he realizes the deceased's personal details match mine perfectly.

Using an alternative account, I secretly join a cycling group chat that my husband, Liam Johnson, is in. One day, an announcement is made in the group chat. "We'll be organizing a weekend mountain biking activity with an overnight stay, with two people sharing a room. To add some excitement, we'll be drawing lots for room assignments." I can't really understand it. Curious, I ask, "What if a man and a woman end up drawing the same room?"

When my husband returned home to visit his parents, I noticed that he forgot to bring back the specialties he had bought. I ran after him, only to find him getting out of a car in a suit. His childhood friend stepped forward to welcome him. They held hands and smiled as they looked into each other’s eyes. They looked like a happy, newlywed couple. Only when my husband saw me standing not too far away did he hurriedly distance himself from his childhood friend. “Her mother’s critically ill, and her mother’s only wish is to see her get married. I’m just helping her.” I simply smiled. I pushed him right back to his childhood friend’s side and started cheering with everyone else. “When’s the baby coming?! I’ll be sure to wrap a nice gift!”

My fiancé, Conrad Reese, fell in love with his secretary, Kelly Dunn, and insisted on breaking off our engagement. I tried to reason with him. "She doesn't have any power behind her; she can't help you become the heir to the Reeses' fortune. You'd be better off keeping her as your mistress." Kelly, feeling insulted, threw herself off a building in front of everyone. Five years later, after he became the heir, the first thing he did was divorce me, destroying my family in the process. "This is what you owe Kelly," he said. I woke up again, and it was my 22nd birthday. Conrad's grandfather asked me what my wish was. "I hope Conrad and Ms. Dunn… will live happily ever after." I bowed slightly and said, "Please, Mr. Jonathan. I hope you'll let me end my engagement with Conrad."

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

My husband has stepped out on me countless times, but he refused to divorce me. Meanwhile, his family called me a disgraceful tramp. Five years ago was the first time I asked for a divorce. Terrence Fulton did not say anything. He locked me up in the villa for a whole month instead. After that month, I found out that I was pregnant. Three years after that, I asked for a divorce for a second time. That very night, Terrence returned to his family home at Fulton Manor. After that, I was allowed to see my son only once a week. Today was my third attempt to get a divorce, and I could finally leave. I discovered that my son did not love me and that my marriage to Terrence had been fake all along. I was just like one of the women he messed around with.

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

My sister, Yvette Chandler, and my boyfriend, Gabriel Johnson, have never gotten along. She doesn't believe that he, a playboy, will settle down and be faithful to me. She even tries to stop us from being together after he proposes to me. To convince her of Gabriel's loyalty, I sign up for a new WhatsApp account to test him. He's frosty toward me and keeps me at arm's length. I'm gleeful over this when he suddenly sends me a voice message. "I already told you I won't fool around with anyone other than you and your sister. Who's going to satisfy you once I'm married when you're so insatiable, Yvette?"