Stories Of Cheating Wives Novels & Stories

"I don't want to be tagged as a cheater by anyone, Susan. I don't want him to think of me as a cheater." "Will you stop being so harsh on yourself for once Aurora? Do you even know what cheating means? No, I don't think you do, let me tell you what cheating means. Cheating is when a pregnant wife catches her husband fucking his secretary on the office table and that man doesn't give a damn that his wife saw him doing that. That pregnant wife ran out of the office in horror and pain and while running she lost her balance and fell down the stairs. That's what cheating is? That woman loved that man madly but that man didn't care about her love. He was a bloody sex addict who felt gross with his

Patricia stared at the glowing phone screen. The message refused to disappear. I miss you Then the second one. When will you tell your wife the truth? Outside, thunder rolled across the skies of Nakuru, shaking the windows of the small house. Her hands trembled. No. There had to be an explanation. Alex wasn't perfect, but he couldn't be cheating. Could he? For eight years, Patricia had defended him against everyone. Against her mother. Against her sister Alison.

She shook her head. I could not believe she was the one telling me this when her husband had cheated on her numerous times, I mean even when she was pregnant, he had cheated with another woman and ended up with a bastard son. She was only a trophy wife, the woman that Emmett Stetson kept by his side only for public appearances and to keep face.

“I called to ask if you want me to go through with this marriage or not! I’m getting married tomorrow, Isla. Just say the damn word and I’ll call it off.” I blinked. Oh? I glanced down at my screen. Auto-recording: on. Good. This would make a nice addition to my little collection of chaos. “No,” I said breezily. “Not interested.” “You were in love with me. How the hell did you just stop?” I chuckled. “Guess I never was. You were a rebound. And honestly? I was just pissed you cheated first. That’s all.” He growled on the other end. “What the fuck does that mean? You think any man would want you now that I’ve fucked you and you had a baby for me?!”

"I knew something was wrong but I never paid attention to my husband and you didn't pay much attention to him, because he made you feel as if everything was okay when it wasn't. His father began cheating on me, the second half of the first year of our marriage. I was hurt. I didn't know what to do. So one day I went to his office and he wasn't there so I went to a house his parents once owned. There he was beneath her, enjoying the warmth of her. I left before he or she could notice I was there, unlike with you I was actually married to him. So I told him I needed a divorce. He has sworn to never see or meet with her again, after two years he started again but with another woman. I felt like

I read the text of the email, and the world seems to tilt on its axis. “Meet the real Violetta,” the message begins. It goes on to detail a sordid narrative I don't recognize. It claims that my divorce isn't a result of my husband’s betrayal, but my own. It says I have been in a long-term, clandestine relationship with the man in the photo. It claims I moved to this city not for a career, but to continue an affair that began months ago. It paints me as a calculated cheater who fled my home state to hide my infidelity while draining my husband’s assets.

Whitney panicked as well, screaming hysterically, "Shut the hell up, Simon! Say one more word, and I'll rip your tongue out!" "You two know perfectly well if I'm just spouting so-called lies." I eyed them frostily. "Whitney, I've tolerated you for a very long time. Did you really think you did such a good job hiding all your dirty little secrets? Did you seriously believe that I'm one of those blind, idiotic husbands you see in soap operas, the ones who have no clue their wives are cheating on them?" My gaze swept across the room, taking in the people who'd loudly called for me to be reported to the police.

Brandon's management team, the bodyguards, and that arrogant property manager were all instantly pinned to the ground, crying and wailing. Cassie watched the dark gun barrels aimed at her and finally broke down completely. She screamed at me hysterically, "Arthur! You can't do this to me! I'm your wife! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Make them let me go! Please! Don't you love me? You've sacrificed so much for me. You can't be this heartless!" However, the only response she got was the soldiers coldly pulling her arms behind her back and binding them tightly with restraints. Her precious designer dress was pulled out of shape. Her carefully styled hair hung in disheveled tangles, making he

Felicia’s question stopped the room cold. “What are you talking about?” Daven asked, brows furrowing in confusion. But there was an edge of anger in his voice, the kind that came from being accused of something he didn’t believe he’d done. “When did I ever cheat?” “Have you forgotten? Your first wife—Althea Grayson,” Felicia said with a sigh. “You cheated on her. Even though you didn’t want that marriage, you still went through it. You stood at the altar, made sacred vows to live and love each other forever.

“This man is my ex-husband, and this pregnant woman over here is my husband’s mistress before we were divorced. The day my house was on fire, which was also the day of the anniversary of our still-born daughter, was the day that he spend her time with his mistress—playing with her pussy and blowing my husband’s cock. I am telling you this so that you’ll keep an eye on your girlfriends, wives, husbands, and boyfriends that these two will never steal them away from you, as they've done to me. Perhaps if there is an award for the cheaters of the year, these two would probably be worthy of that god-damned prize. That’s all and thank you for your attention.” Wisdom then walked away straight into