Emotional Realism Short Stories & Novels

Not long after my wife and I got married, my mother-in-law unexpectedly had another child, a son. The entire family treated him like a miracle and let him get away with everything. Before long, he became an unbearable little monster. When he was ten, he pulled up a girl's skirt at school and yanked down her shorts. I confronted him about it, but my wife immediately turned on me. "He's my brother, not your son. What makes you think you have the right to discipline him?" I kept my anger to myself and moved out with our daughter, who had been growing more withdrawn by the day. Years later, the spoiled boy shoved a woman who was eight months pregnant down a flight of stairs. My wife called me in a panic and begged me to help him. All I wanted to tell her was that he was finally facing the consequences of his actions. Never did I imagine he could sink even lower...

The day my sister, Megan Slade, was taken back by her wealthy birth family, she begged her parents with tears in her eyes. "Colin Carter's my brother. I'm all he has left. If he can't come with me, then I won't go back," she said. In the end, her parents had no choice but to bring me back home with her. When we first came to the Slade family, the fake heir, Joel Slade, who had lived as their son for over ten years was spoiled rotten and constantly targeted both me and Megan. At first, Megan was annoyed by him. Whenever her parents asked her to be more patient with Joel since he was her brother, she would always say without hesitation, "Colin's my only brother." But later, she never said those words again. Sometimes, she would even compare me to him. "I wish you were more cheerful like Joel. You're always so quiet." That day, she forgot my birthday again. I didn't make a fuss. I quietly made myself a cake. But the moment I finished it, she picked it up and casually brought it to Joel. "The cake Joel ordered got ruined on the way, and he's been upset about it," she said, "just give this one to him." I was so hurt that I didn't say a word all night. Seeing that, she looked at me with impatience evident in her eyes. "You're giving me an attitude over a cake? If you didn't want to share, why didn't you just say so?" Megan snapped at me. Joel made a face. "I told you before that your brother was petty, but you wouldn't believe me. I really don't understand why you brought that dead weight back with you." This time, Megan didn't argue back. So it turned out that even she saw me as a burden now.

The day before the company retreat, the CEO suddenly sent a message in the company group chat. [How's your leg?] The group chat, which had been buzzing with excitement just moments before, instantly went silent. To protect the CEO's dignified image, I immediately found a CT scan report and sent it into the chat. [Thank you for your concern, Mr. Graham. I already got my leg checked. The doctor said it's nothing serious.] This time, the CEO replied almost immediately. [Good. I'm glad you're okay. You can submit the claims for medical expenses. You can also take another two weeks off.] The group chat instantly flooded with comments praising him. [Mr. Graham is so thoughtful.] [He really cares about his employees.] I was secretly proud of my high emotional intelligence when I suddenly received a friend request from someone claiming to be the CEO's fiancee. [So you're the homewrecker who's been seducing Christopher at work! You're really something, aren't you? Why would he ask about your leg in the middle of the night? [If you have the guts, send your leg photos to the group chat and let everyone admire them!] The sip of water I just took nearly sprayed all over my screen I looked down at the dog curled up in my arms. Its name was Hammie. I then glanced at the family photo hanging on the wall. What homewrecker? I was literally the CEO's mother!

Freddy LaValle and I were twins. We looked almost exactly alike, but our personalities couldn't have been more different. He grew up at the side of our parents, Charles LaValle and Wendy LaValle, who spoiled him rotten until he was arrogant to the core. I was raised by our grandmother, Agnes LaValle, and grew up quiet and reserved. While Freddy was clinging to our parents on trips, I was studying. While he was out drinking and betting on cockfights with his good-for-nothing friends, I was still studying. After long years of grueling study, I finally sat for the Palace Examination as the top-ranked candidate of the Grand Examination. Just as I was about to claim the highest honor, my parents gave me an order as if they had every right in the world, "Freddy is a grown man now, and he still has nothing to his name. You're the older brother. You should look out for him. "We've come up with the perfect solution. You and Freddy will simply trade places. In three years, you can start over from the county examination." I stared at them in disbelief. "That's deceiving the King! That's cheating on the royal examinations! Do you want everything we own confiscated?" Father brushed it off. "As long as you keep your mouth shut, who's ever going to know?" Mother frowned and complained, "You're the older brother. What's so wrong with helping Freddy? How did your grandmother raise you to be so selfish and heartless?" Freddy gave me a provocative look. "The Laureate's title and the place of the heir to the family name are both mine now." I was so furious that I laughed. Then, on the examination paper that should have been singing the King's praises, I wrote the word "Die" over and over until it filled every line. They wanted to steal my honors? Fine, they could pay for them with their lives!

After my little brother, Cochran Ceberano, dies in a car crash, my parents hand the toy poodle he raised over to me. But I haul the dog to an unlicensed, back-alley animal clinic right away and have him neutered. Why? Because I've been reborn. In my previous life, on the day the dog arrives at our house, he suddenly turns vicious, scratching and biting me at every turn. Afraid of upsetting my parents, I bend over backward to win him over. I feed him the best dog food, and I even sleep next to him on the couch. But he only gets worse. Day by day, my sanity crumbles. Insomnia sets in, followed by auditory hallucinations. I even start dreaming that he's chasing me down and tearing me apart every night. Unable to endure it any longer, I hesitantly suggest rehoming the dog. Dad flies into a rage at this, slapping me hard across the face. "Rehome it? He's the only piece of your brother left in this world, and you can't even tolerate him? How can you be so cruel and heartless?" Mom doesn't say anything. She just clutches the dog close to her as she sobs. Driven to the brink by the relentless torment, I finally snap and jump out of a 30-story window. After I die, I drift into the sky in my ghost form, only to discover something that leaves me stunned. Cochran, who supposedly died in the car crash, is awake and alive. My parents throw their arms around him, weeping tears of joy. "The shaman was right! As long as your soul inhabits a dog and stays next to an immediate family member for seven full weeks, you can exchange lives with her!" Only then do I realize that the toy poodle was never just a dog. He was my own little brother.

During the university’s hundred-year anniversary celebration, my daughter was cast as the lead in a play. A certain female classmate who had always been jealous of her conspired with others to swap out the safety cables. Halfway through the performance, the cable snapped, and my daughter fell from a great height. She bled to death on the spot. I rushed onto the stage in a frenzy, but my daughter’s advisor and others held me down with all their might. My wife was heartbroken. In front of the media cameras, she wiped away her tears. “My husband had been so desperate for our daughter to become famous that he secretly changed the safety wire to a thinner one...” Amid a storm of online abuse, I jumped to my death, filled with bitterness. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the anniversary celebration. Without a word, I immediately withdrew my daughter from school and locked her at home. That evening, I sat in the audience at the school anniversary gala. When it was time for the final play, the female lead wore my daughter’s costume and took the stage. My heart sank, and I looked around. The group that had bullied my daughter was sitting in the row in front of me. So, who exactly was the person hanging in midair right then, wearing my daughter’s costume?

I set up a company cafeteria for employees with an abundant meal daily worth 150 dollars per person. Meals are prepared by a world-renowned master chef. Every day, I only ask my employees to contribute a token of one dollar. Instead of gratitude, all I get is their envy of the neighboring company. "I wish we had that. Their healthy lunches cost them nothing, and the company covers everything." "Yeah. Free salads always seem to taste the best." Before long, this chatter spreads through the office, and the new hires carry it into the company's group chat. "Mr. Shaw, can we switch things up? All this rich, heavy food is just too much for us!" A few of the senior employees quickly jump in. "Yes, Mr. Shaw! We're not asking for anything extravagant. We only want something like the healthy lunches the other company gives out for free!" Perfect. They ignore my lavish 150-dollar meals that cost them almost nothing, yet they pine over the neighboring company's modest lunches. I scroll through the chat, feeling nothing but sharp irony. I immediately send a company-wide email. "Attention, everyone! By popular demand, and so you can all experience a truly free lunch, the cafeteria's daily meal is reduced from abundant to simple starting today. "Snacks and fruit options are discontinued and replaced with the same healthy lunch set offered by the neighboring company. The company will cover the full cost. Enjoy your meal!"

I went skiing alone on Valentine’s Day to clear my head. I never expected that later that night, my younger brother, Mason Cases, would show up after running away from home following a fight with our family. The front desk stopped him and asked for additional registration. I explained, "He’s my brother. He ran out after an argument and didn’t bring his ID. He’s just staying one night. I’ll take him home tomorrow." After hearing that, the receptionist, Riley Rowe, gave us a suggestive once-over, winking at my brother with a look that said, "I get it." "Alright," she said with a flirty smile. "It’s Valentine’s Day. I understand. No need to be shy." Seeing how exhausted Mason looked, I forced myself to swallow the disgust and brought him upstairs. That night, I came across a local post online. "Girls these days have no shame. Bringing some random guy back to a hotel on Valentine’s Day. She got caught and still had the nerve to lie, saying he’s her brother. Like I can’t tell?" Some users questioned whether she might have mistaken them. "I’ve worked in this industry for over ten years. There’s no way I got it wrong! She didn’t dare register him. Obviously, she’s afraid her husband will find out she’s cheating! I’m going to go listen outside their door later and livestream how loud she gets!" I froze. It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence, right? Until I opened the photo she had secretly taken. My blood turned to ice. That was me. Wait. The "random guy" she was talking about… Did she mean the one lying on the floor? But he really was my biological younger brother.

During the holiday season, a flood hits. The company's warehouse is submerged up to the third floor. Due to the emergency, I have my assistant tell everyone to come back a day early to help. I promise that the company will provide stipends and extra time off to make up for this. But on that day, a Gen Z employee goes live across the internet to report me. "Oh, my God. It's 2025, yet there are still companies forcing employees to adjust their time off and work overtime! Is this heartless boss so broke that she needs to exploit us like this? Will she die if she doesn't squeeze us out of every drop of usefulness? Company notices override the law. Impressive stuff, this is!" Soon, the company ends up on the trending list due to criticism from the online community. Even the regulators come knocking to hold us accountable. In the end, the company is forced to cancel the notice. A lot of equipment isn't salvaged in time, resulting in significant losses. The employee even posts a victory lap. "Give the boss a tiny lesson—see if she dares to force overtime again!" I'm so angry that I laugh out loud. I tell my assistant to cancel the annual benefit we give all employees—an entire month of paid time off for Christmas and the New Year holidays. If we have to stick strictly to the law, then fine. Have it your way!

When my CEO wife, Rita Scanlond, decided to promote me as the lead in a project, I was not grateful for the offer, and I slapped every single board member present. I gave up the six‑figure salary and returned home to enjoy my life. Everyone believed I had gone crazy from immense pressure and demanded that a rebellious employee like me be fired. Rita's assistant, Hudson Cobb, made fun of me for not having any ambition and tried to replace me in the company. I laughed at the situation even though I was not compensated for being fired. This happened because Rita had insisted in my past life that we use Hudson's proposal for the project, which caused our data to be stolen and led to billions in loss. I was made the scapegoat of the company for leading the project and was beaten by debtors as I ended up owing them billions. Rita and Hudson registered a new company and used my formula to become successful entrepreneurs. Without me to be the scapegoat in this life, I wanted to see how Rita would pay back billions in debt.

It's been three years since I got married, and life's just been getting better and better. My company is flourishing, and my wife is a successful career woman. However, I have a friend from my college days who has already sabotaged a few families among our friend group. He can't bear to see others doing better than him. One day, during a gathering with friends, he slung his arm over my shoulder and said earnestly, "Alan, look at you. After you got married, you lost all freedom. You now live like a simp. Can you still call yourself a man? I've booked a private room somewhere fun tonight, and no one's allowed to leave! Let's have a blast and party all night!" I swallowed my discomfort and went along with them, only to find out what he meant by "having a blast" was hiring some professional ladies. And he even dragged me along to try my luck at gambling.

Edward Sterling is playing in his university's freshman basketball tournament when my parents banish me abroad. My biological sister and my fiancée are both on the sidelines, cheering for him. That spotlight should've been mine. The jersey he's wearing, with a star player's autograph on it, was supposed to be my 14th birthday gift. Edward and I have been rivals for most of our lives. It never matters whether I'm right or wrong—the moment he plays the victim, my parents rush to defend him and scold me without hesitation. But I am their biological son! It's not until I die alone and sick in a foreign country that I finally understand one thing. If I ever get a second chance, I'll never again fight Edward for love that was never mine to begin with.

When my husband, Lucius Croft, and I were on a flight that was heading toward our honeymoon destination, his childhood friend, Belinda Todd, suddenly appeared before us while pregnant. She claimed that she had bought an economy-class ticket and that she wanted to go on a vacation with us. Not only did Lucius not reject Belinda, but he also wanted me to give my first-class ticket away to her. I turned his suggestion down. So, he helped Belinda occupy the first-class seat next to us. When I realized that an old lady was the owner of that particular seat, I did everything I could to convince Lucius to return the seat to her. Unexpectedly, Belinda was so mad that she got off the plane right away. On her way home, she got into an accident, which killed her and her unborn baby. Lucius attended her funeral calmly. But on the day I was supposed to go into labor, he tied me up in the car and staged a car accident on purpose. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you, Belinda never would've died! You deserve to make it up to her with your life!" I could only watch the car drive into the tree in total despair. All I saw was a huge explosion and tongues of flame around me before I completely lost consciousness. When I open my eyes again, I see Belinda standing before me with her belly jutting out. This time, I no longer stop them. What they don't know is that the inconspicuous-looking old lady is actually a member of the esteemed Howard family, also known as the global business powerhouse. She's also the grandmother of the richest man in the world, Ethan Howard.

On my eighth birthday, I begged my mom to video call my dad, who was supposedly working late. The moment the call connected, a version of him from ten years in the future appeared on the screen. My mom held me close and smiled, asking him, "Ten years from now… our Lily has grown up. Was her coming-of-age ceremony a big celebration?" Dad replied coldly, "She kept trying to one-up Sarah's kid, so I sent her abroad. Too bad her luck ran out—her plane went down." My mom's face went pale. On the other end, my dad let out an icy laugh. "Claire, back then, you lied to me. You said if your 'plan' didn't work out, you'd die. I believed you. I gave up Sarah and her child to marry you." My mom's body started trembling. I reached out toward the screen. "Daddy, when are you coming home to celebrate my birthday with me?" Dad sighed and looked at her calmly. "The truth is, I wasn't working late that night. I was celebrating Sarah's daughter's birthday. Now you know everything. What you do next is up to you." Suddenly, a cold robotic voice echoed in my ear: [Host, do you choose to abandon the original world and stay here forever?] I wiped the tears off my mom's face and, barely understanding what was happening, said, "Mommy, does that mean Daddy doesn't want us anymore? Then let's not want him either. Okay?"

On the third New Year’s Eve since I reunited with my parents, I bumped into their former adopted son, who stole the happy life that I was supposed to have for the past twenty years. Adam Scott was once an arrogant, wealthy young man. However, he was now working as a food delivery rider. As he was more than ten minutes late delivering the food, he kept apologizing to me. “Sir, I’m really sorry. The roads are slippery because of the snow. I fell and spilled your food. “I can compensate you twice the amount. Please don’t leave a negative review for me.” Before I could speak, my parents already teared up and comforted him out of habit. “Don’t worry about the food, Adam. Are you hurt? It’s New Year’s Eve; come in and join us for dinner.” My hand tightened around the doorknob as I reminded them, “Mom, Dad, we only have enough utensils for three people.”

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

My CEO wife has a habit of rewarding top-performing employees with a private dinner. After seven years of being secretly married to her, I finally pushed myself to the limit—working around the clock for an entire month, nearly coughing up blood—just to land the number-one spot and finally earn that public dinner date with my own wife. But Alexia gave the spot to an intern instead. "Caleb just joined the team. He needs some motivation and encouragement. As my husband, you need to be understanding. Next time, if you close over ten million in sales, I'll definitely give you the spot—and I'll even throw in a diamond wedding ring worth a million." For the sake of the company and our marriage, I let it slide. Then I closed a ten-million-dollar deal and showed up at the restaurant we'd agreed on. She never came. No calls, no texts. I was about to head back to the office to find her when I saw Caleb's post on social media: a candlelit dinner with my wife, and on his ring finger—the very ring she'd promised me. His caption read: [Family keeps asking when I'm getting married? Don't worry—my girlfriend, the CEO, showed up with a ring to save the day.] Coworkers flooded the comments with excitement. I calmly left a comment of my own. My wife, who had been MIA for six hours, immediately called me in a panic. "Don't get the wrong idea! It was just a dare—he lost a game, that's all. You're still my husband. I just loaned him the ring for a minute. Once the game's over, I'll get it right back to you." But I don't want the ring or her anymore. "Don't bother. Let's get a divorce."

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.

My younger brother and I shared one body, but we had two different souls. Ever since we were little, my family used a lottery draw each month to decide who would stay awake and who would fall asleep. The long straw was mine. The short straw was his. Whenever my brother was awake, our parents and older sister took him on vacations, road trips, and around the world to see places I had never seen. Whenever I was awake, they locked me inside the house and forced me to study day and night. I was the one who took the SAT. I was the one who faced every challenge life threw at us. But every time I succeeded, they would make sure my brother woke up next, so he could enjoy all the praise and rewards I had earned without lifting a finger. Everything changed the day my brother beat a local bully's son so badly that the boy ended up in the hospital. Carla made her decision without hesitation. "Tomorrow is the first day of the month anyway. Since we decide who gets picked, let's wake Harry and have him take the blame for Simon." My parents agreed without a second thought. Trapped deep inside our shared soul, I could only smile bitterly. Watching them protect my brother while turning me into his scapegoat filled me with despair. What they didn't know was that I had one chance to choose eternal sleep. With a broken heart, I made my decision. I would never again be my brother's stepping stone and scapegoat.

Caked in mud, her eyes bloodshot, my mother grabbed me by the shoulders. "Elliot, the company's collapsed. I… I killed a competitor. It was an accident. There's no way out now. You're the only one who can come with me." I believed her. I swallowed my fear and followed her into the mountains, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left of the world I knew. To keep her alive, I searched for food, forcing down insects, drinking whatever murky water I could find. When a pack of wolves began circling our shelter, my first instinct was to step in front of her. "Mom, I'll lead them away. You go." I glanced back at her one last time…and made my choice. I would give up my life for hers. However, when I leapt from the cliff and my body shattered against the rocks below… I still saw her. She was inside a descending helicopter, calm and composed, lifting a glass of champagne. Celebrating. That was when it finally clicked. The desperate escape that had driven me to sacrifice myself… was nothing more than a carefully staged show. She had been acting the entire time. I…was the only one who had actually died.