Cheating Vs Cheating Novel Novels & Stories

When I miscarried due to a car accident, Aidan Brown drove past my car with his Beta. He glanced at the blood on the ground in disdain and covered Seraphina Gross’s curious eyes. “Don’t look at this horrible sight. It’s bad luck.” I tried to use mind-link to call him when I saw his car. However, he did not respond to me, and his car disappeared from my sight. That night, I saw the lipstick stain on his shirt collar and smiled bitterly. I felt pain shoot through my heart. I immediately understood what it meant. I called the Alpha of the Valoria pack. “Kieran Wesley, I’ve thought it through. I’ll join your company next week.”

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

There's an earthquake. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, abandons me to save Wendy Smith, his true love. I don't stop him. I let him go. Why? Because when he was faced with the same choice in my past life, he saved me because I was eight months pregnant. Meanwhile, Wendy remained trapped under the rubble. She ultimately died due to a lack of oxygen after the delayed rescue. Later, on the day I went into labor, my husband brought me to Wendy's grave. He watched me coldly as I collapsed on the ground from the searing pain. He ignored my pleas. "Does it hurt, Yelena? Wendy's pain was a thousand times worse when she was trapped under the rubble!" I stared at him in disbelief as he descended into insanity. "You were safe that night—you were in the safe triangle zone! Wendy would never have missed the best time for rescue if not for you using your pregnancy to threaten me! I want you to experience all the pain she went through!" He forced me down on my knees and bumped my head on the ground before Wendy's grave. He ignored the blood that flowed down my legs. Ultimately, I died after major blood loss from a difficult labor. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the earthquake happened. This time, neither I nor my child will wait for him.

On our third year wedding anniversary, Ricardo Gambino finds me in the estate located far beyond the city's boundaries. As he clutches a pregnancy report, he finds it difficult to suppress the smile on his face. "I have good news for you, Isabella!" Ricardo exclaims excitedly. "Lucia is pregnant! It so happens that you're infertile, we'll have her give birth to the baby, and you can raise them! After that, I'll make sure to send Lucia away. You, on the other hand, shall remain as my wife!" Ricardo's tone is starting to drift. He sounds like he's done something amazing for me and wants me to compliment him. But I merely look at him as though he were a jester. What Ricardo doesn't know is that he's the infertile one. Also, we've already gotten divorced from each other. At that moment, I receive a new text on my phone. Then, I see a photo of an ultrasound report regarding the first trimester of a pregnancy. "Isabella, we're having triplets." The next text pops up immediately. "I shall marry you in three days."

When the factory director’s son dragged my drunk fiancee into the supply warehouse, I pretended as if I did not see them. I just turned around and walked away. In the past, I had ruined my own future by rushing in and beating the factory director’s son up. I was even framed for stealing the supplies from the warehouse. When the warehouse keeper came over with the police officers, my fiancee deliberately ripped her own clothes. She cried and said that she came with the director to stop me from committing the crime, but I beat her up and even defiled her. Everyone despised me, and I became a criminal. My fiancee’s parents could not bear the rumors, and they forced me to marry her. But that marriage was only the start of a hellish life. She lived like a queen at home, yet she told everyone I was starving her. When she got pregnant, she deliberately pushed her belly against the corner of the table. Then, she stood in the courtyard and cried. She claimed I had abused her, and I wanted to kill my own baby. My parents felt bad for me, so they borrowed money from everyone they knew to get her a job. But when she landed on the job, she framed my father for stealing the steel from the factory. Half a year after my father was imprisoned, he passed away in jail due to an illness. My mother could not bear the stress and fell severely ill. She also passed away soon after. When I was pinned under the collapsed brick wall at the construction site, she did not call for help. Instead, she picked up a brick and smashed it into my head. “If you were not so nosy, Jeremy and I’d have been together already. We wouldn’t have wasted so much time!” My head bled, and I was buried beneath a pile of rubble. When I opened my eyes again, I was at the entrance of the supply warehouse. From inside, I heard my fiancee’s soft, teasing murmurs.

Tristan Moore, the low-income student whom my wife, Yvonne Zeller, has been sponsoring, tells her that he wishes to repay her for her benevolence. So, they end up spending long hours of passion in my laboratory. Because of that, the fluids they've left behind have tainted my experimental samples. On top of that, Tristan specifically texts me and makes me witness everything. I waste no time in barging into the laboratory. "Oh? Are you that poor that you can't afford a hotel room anymore, Ms. Zeller? Is that why you brought your side piece to my lab?" Yvonne wraps her top around her chest, her expression devoid of any guilt. "Get out. I'm the one who has invested in this lab, so I'm free to use it however I see fit. A leech like you don't get a say in this matter." I turn on my heel and walk away. That night, I hand over my new patent to Yvonne's older brother, Joshua Zeller. I'd like to see how Yvonne, who's still in the middle of fighting for the position as the heir, will still be able to stay calm after finding out about this.

When I got up from Ted Wiley's bed, he lazily handed me my underwear. "I'm changing the door code, so don't come by unless it's urgent." I froze, blurting out, "Why?" He grinned. "She said yes to being my girlfriend yesterday. I can't have her spotting you here—she'd flip. It took me forever to win her over."

Terrance Burgess slapped me in front of the entire company, all because I accidentally knocked over his assistant's vase. My five-year-old son, Claude Burgess, stood off to the side, clapping like it was something worth cheering for. Afterward, the assistant walked up to me while holding the bouquet the father and son had given her, showing it off right in my face. "So what if you're the wife? The one who isn't loved is the real outsider." I looked at her calmly. "Then you'd better watch yourself. If he can have you on the side, he can just as easily find someone else after you." I used to think I had a happy, complete family. Until Terrance's assistant came along and made me realize it had all been in my head. The love from that father and son had already moved on to someone else. That was the moment something in me went completely still. I called a number I hadn't contacted in years. "Dad, I want to come home and take over the family business."

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.