Histoires Courtes Romance & Romans

After four years of marriage, James Lawson, who had never posted anything on social media, unexpectedly updated his status: "What an adorable little foodie!" The attached photo showed a young woman wearing pink cat ears, eating at a Korean BBQ restaurant. Her cheeks were flushed red from the spicy food as she stuck out her tongue. It was Sophie Jones, a new content creator at his company. Within a minute, our mutual friend commented: "Dude, you forgot to switch accounts!" Just like that, James's new post disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, only to show up moments later on Sophie's feed. Then James's name lit up my phone screen. In the past, I would have already taken screenshots and called him first to confront him. It would have inevitably ended in a heated argument. But this time, I calmly watched his call go to voicemail without answering.

On the day of my divorce, my ex-mother-in-law updates her social media with a photo. It's my husband's mistress' ultrasound—she's pregnant. Their friends and family congratulate her. Meanwhile, I share a premarital medical report. It belongs to her son, Owen Wade. It also clearly indicates he has congenital necrospermia. There's no way I'll want a man who can't have kids!

When my fiance's student argued with me, she knocked over a gas cylinder and caused an explosion. As the fire spread, my fiancé rushed into the lab wearing a gas mask. However, his priority was to carry his student to safety. As he left, he said, "Wait for the rescue team! A teacher should treat their students like how a parent treats their children. If something happens to Amanda, you don't deserve to be a teacher!" In the end, I inhaled too much toxic gas and died, never having waited long enough for the rescue team to arrive. Since I was the only one who had mastered the core data of the lab, no one could take my place. This meant that five years of hard work in the lab were destroyed, and Astran University was kicked out of a global research project. Later, William, the once esteemed professor of Astran University, became a pariah—someone whom everyone scorned and reviled.

We're celebrating my son, Baby Selwyn, turning a month old. I'm walking past the pool with him in my arms when someone shoves me from behind. Colin Selwyn jumps into the pool like a madman. He saves us and immediately rushes us to the hospital. Baby Selwyn makes it out alive because of the timely rescue. When I open my eyes again, Baby Selwyn and Colin aren't by my side. I sit up while coughing and remove the needle inserted into my hand. I leave the hospital room and head for the pediatric department, wanting to see Baby Selwyn. However, as I walk past the emergency room, I hear Colin talking to a doctor. "We managed to save the child from drowning, Mr. Selwyn. Why has he now died of asphyxiation?" "I smothered him. Per the plan, he was never supposed to make it out alive!" "But why? He's your son!" "I promised Sandy that I would make our child the Selwyn family's sole heir. Lucille should never have given birth to Baby Selwyn." Colin's tone is gentle and calm, yet his words are cold and cruel. I've always thought I had a loving marriage, but it's just a joke! I've already lost my beloved son, and my heartless husband is the one behind his death. I don't want him anymore!

My husband, who was a drug enforcement police officer, personally got me into rehab. My son was cheering on the side, saying that he no longer had to see me under the influence for a long time. After I was discharged, I discovered my husband moved in with his lover and our son. I begged him to come back and told him that someone would kill me. He did not believe me. Instead, he said coldly, “If you die, you better end up in a trash can. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your body.” My son cheered at the side. “Mommy is finally gone!” After a week, I was dismembered. My body parts were found in multiple trash cans. He was the police in charge of the case.

On the day I discovered I was pregnant, my husband's first love—who also happened to be my half-sister—returned.

I died on the day I was supposed to marry Ryan Wolfe. When I didn’t show up on time, he angrily married his childhood sweetheart, Lorelei Floyd, instead, and publicly announced, “Alexis Harding cheated before our wedding and called it off herself!” The rumors crushed my mother, and she died from a heart attack right then and there. But Ryan seemed to have forgotten that he, in a fit of rage to defend Lorelei, slashed my arm and locked me in a basement for ten whole days. I begged him and pleaded for mercy, but all I got was his cold reply. “You’ll stay here for a while, so you can fully understand the pain you caused Lorelei. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll rid you of your wicked thoughts.” When he found my corpse, ravaged by maggots, he lost his mind.

The wife of the richest man in the Northston enjoys tormenting beautiful young girls. I, born without the ability of feeling pain, became her perfect target. So, during yet another instance of being bullied in the school bathroom , this billionaire couple found me. They brought a lot of reporters and claimed that I was their long-lost daughter. For a better life, I became the rich man's daughter and was envied by everyone. But beneath their loving facade, my new wounds concealed old ones. They said that this was the price of my protection and that I should repay them with my life. They were right. I should repay them. Only, it would be their lives, not mine.

The Richie Rich who violated my daughter has gotten off unscathed. He sneers and throws a wad of cash in my face. "I'll show you what people mean when they say money makes the world go round!" In that split second, I want to tear him to pieces.

"Are you sure you want to change your name, Ms. Anderson? You'll have to change your degree certificate, documentation, and passport once you do." Noelle Anderson nods. "I'm sure." The employee tries to talk her out of it. "It's quite troublesome for adults to change their names, and your current name sounds nice. Are you sure you don't want to think about it?" "No, I'm done thinking." She signs the form. "Sorry for the trouble and thanks." "Alright, then. The name you're changing to is… Aria Byrd, right?" "Yeah." Aria Byrd—it means a flight to freedom.

Ethan Harper was infatuated with the widow, Grace Bowen, who lived downstairs. She made him special breakfasts and did not mind his hunched back or his loud chewing when he ate. He said, “My old hag of a wife is like an NPC. Whenever I get close to her, she just gives me chores to do. “Not like you. You’re so understanding, and you make me feel like a real person.” He envied her late husband, whom he said was luckier than he was for having married her. I decided to grant him his wish immediately. I was afraid if I waited even a moment longer, he might snap out of it.

I was framed by my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart and spent five years in prison. While I was locked away, he moved her into my home, seized my property, and built a perfect life, thriving off everything I worked for. However, I would take back everything that they stole from me.

After an unexpected miscarriage, I left my ward in search of Victor. I saw him inside the doctor’s office. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I overheard their conversation. “Give my wife a hysterectomy. I don’t need her to bear me any children.” Victor Gayes pulled the woman beside him to face the doctor, his hand rubbing her belly. “The baby inside her belly will be my only child. You must protect it no matter what.” I knew the woman very well. She was Victor’s secretary of three years, Rachel Aniston. Victor reminded the doctor again and again, sternly and anxiously. “You have to give her the best medicine. I won’t allow anything to go wrong with this baby!” I pulled my hand back, all my blood running cold. To think Victor would do something so heartless to me, just after I lost our baby. To think my faith in him would become a dagger, stabbed straight into my heart. If love had another face, it would probably be letting these feelings go with a smile.

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

My husband forces me to donate my remaining kidney to his true love. He wants to save her from death by uremia. I try to tell him that I have kidney failure—I'll die if I donate my kidney. However, he roars, "Stop playing your jealous games when Shawna is so gravely ill! Don't you have a heart?" Under his forcefulness, I'm taken to the hospital to get my kidney removed. Ultimately, I die in a corner of the hospital.

I was the real daughter brought back to marry in place of the fake one. On the night I married Shaun Harrison, he kissed my tearful eyes and made a promise. “Quiana, if you have my baby, I’ll give you a home.” Because of that promise, I risked my life to give birth to Jaxon Harrison. I dreamed of having a home that belonged to me. But years later, I saw the fake daughter walking over while holding Jaxon’s hand. “Aunt Stella, I wish you were my mom. “I’ll help you get rid of her. Can you be my mom instead?” The fake daughter laughed, and Shaun looked at them lovingly. They looked like a real family.

I'd loved Jeffrey for seven years. When I was kidnapped, Jeffrey didn't pay the ransom because of Joanna. He wanted me to behave myself. After I endured hellish torture, I gave up Jeffrey as he wished. But he begged me to give him a second chance.

Three days after giving birth, my husband leaves me alone at home to care for the baby, saying that he needs to leave on an urgent business trip. Three days later, I've just arrived at the hospital when I see a family photo his childhood sweetheart has shared on her social media. It's captioned, "This was taken during a trip. We're a happy family of three." I'm surprised to see my husband grinning in the photo and comment on it with a question mark. He immediately calls me to reprimand me. "Do you know how hard it is for her as a single mother? She doesn't have a man to care for her. All I did was take a photo with her. Do you have to be so petty?" That evening, his childhood sweetheart shares a photo of some monetary gifts. "He insisted on giving me this after taking the family photo." I know my husband gave that to her to pacify her. This time, however, I'm ready to leave him.

On the day of our wedding, Hansel Lennox's childhood sweetheart, Nara Sullivan, threatens to jump off a building. He ignores her and proceeds with the wedding. Then, he panics when she really jumps off the building. From then on, he goes to the church more and more often, turning into a pious believer. He even forces me to copy scripture and kneel while praying in the name of repenting for my sins. He makes me lose my child. The day I miscarry, I ask him for a divorce. However, he says we both owe Nara this, so we have to repent together. He uses my family to threaten me and keep me by his side. I waste my whole life for his sake. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to our wedding day. This time, I'm going to push Hansel to Nara. I want to be the one who forces him to convert.

I received a call the day before my wedding. "Miss McPherson, someone has thrashed your venue." I rushed to the hotel in confusion only to meet a woman waving my wedding photo. "You homewrecking skank! You seduced my husband and spent his money on this wedding!" The crowd believed her and went wild. Even the hotel manager piled on me. "I knew something was fishy when the groom never showed up! You're not his real wife!" The crowd turned into a violent mob. In that chaos, I miscarried. At the height of my fury, I texted my secretary: [Cancel the wedding, and kick Matteo Brando out of my company!] How dare he keep a mistress with my fortune! How dare she challenge me! I will destroy them!