短編Romance のストーリーと小説

After the 100th failed fertility treatment, my husband, who had been previously diagnosed with a low sperm count, spoke coldly. “Lucy is very fertile. She gets pregnant after our first time, unlike you. You just can’t conceive.” Lucy was my adoptive sister. While holding her hand, he laid out three options for me. I could either ignore their affair and retain my title as the CEO’s wife, take the ten million dollars and disappear, or walk away with nothing at all. The whole town knew how proud I was. They also knew how deeply I loved him. They surely expected me to be mad with jealousy and choose honor over compromise. But I neither cried nor made a scene. I calmly slid the check back across the table. “The child will call me Mom. I’ll stay and be Mrs. Carter.” After all, this was my third time to live such a life. The first time, I chose to leave with nothing but my dignity. The second time, I took the money, but had to live in shame. Both decisions ended in tragedy. For the third time, perhaps three of us could just... make it work.

It was the night of my husband's and my third anniversary, and I had gotten home early. I caught him in bed with another woman—for the tenth time. But unlike the previous times, I did not throw a tantrum. I even closed the door to the master bedroom quietly, not wanting to interrupt. In Scott Jameson's eyes, I had no choice but to tolerate his cheating because I became Mrs. Jameson by getting pregnant with his child. Three months later, he flung divorce papers at me. "My young lover wants me to give her a home and to bear my son. Sign the papers." I looked into his cold, distant eyes and said with conviction, "All right. All I want is custody of our son. I don't want a cent of the Jamesons' money." The court proceedings were difficult, and I was accused of being mentally unstable. Many people made fun of me for not knowing my place. All of Cloverton was waiting for me to humiliate myself, counting the seconds until a nobody like me succumbed to desperation. However, I fought the case with everything I had. Eventually, I was finally able to leave with my son. No one knew that Scott suffered from a serious case of asthenozoospermia. His sperm were completely useless. No other woman could have Scott's baby except me, as I happened to be unusually fertile. My son would be the only heir to the Jameson family legacy.

An unscrupulous company discharges toxic wastewater into the river, causing my whole family to be poisoned because we rely on that river for survival. Everyone in my family, including my aunts and uncles, lives in the same village. We're all waiting for an urgent antidote delivery to save our lives. My boyfriend is Harrison Somers, and his company is the only one with the antidote. So, I ask him for it. He agrees to come but doesn't show up after a long time. Ultimately, my family members die after being tormented by the toxic wastewater because they don't have the antidote. Meanwhile, Harrison shows up at the hospital with his childhood sweetheart because she accidentally sliced her finger while peeling a fruit.

The housekeeper, who was always punctual, was late today. "Madam, I'm so sorry… dinner isn't ready yet. Please don't be upset with me…" "But this time, there was no helping it. I waited downstairs for over half an hour, and no one swiped in. I even called Mr. Gregory, but he didn't answer. That's why I'm late." My hand froze mid-motion as I was changing shoes, and a frown creased my brow. "Lydia," I said, "didn't I have Richard give you the access card?" Lydia Pendel froze, her face blank. "Access card? Mr. Gregory never gave me one." "Never?" I repeated. "Yes," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead, her voice careful. "All this past month, I've been sneaking in whenever another resident opened the door, or calling Mr. Gregory so he could let me in. "Today, Mr. Gregory didn't answer at all, so I was stuck downstairs, feeling helpless…" That was strange. Because over the past month, the electronic lock on the front gate had clearly recorded swipes from that backup card.

At six in the evening, Allen Bennett prepared a perfect dinner, with each dish carefully chosen to match Sarah Foster's preferences. By seven, he had run her bath, adding lavender essential oils and rose petals to the warm water, filling the bathroom with a calming fragrance. By eight, he placed her comfortable slippers by the entrance, awaiting her return. At nine, the front door finally opened. Sarah walked in, and Allen immediately went to greet her. With practiced grace, he helped her out of her coat and placed her slippers before her feet, then hung the coat in the entryway closet. Turning to her with a gentle smile, he asked, "Would you prefer to have your bath first or would you like to eat?"

At the airport, I ran straight into Zach Martin, the man who had left me at the altar two years ago to accompany his foster sister to Apania to watch elephants. I had on sunglasses, yet he recognized me instantly in the crowd. “Tina, I’m back to marry you.” I paused for a moment. There was a flicker of doubt in my eyes. “You’re…” He gave me a helpless smile. “Hey, come on. Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to disappear like that. After taking Yvette to see the elephants, she wanted to stick around and document everything. She’s my only sister. I had to spoil her a little. “After two years of working on the project and finishing the shoot, I rushed straight back to fulfill our engagement!” Only then did it dawn on me that this dark, scrawny man, flashing a mouthful of white teeth, was actually my former fiancé! Wait. Did nobody tell him that on the very day he ran away, I married his uncle instead?

The day my son gained the lifetime achievement award in research, I died alone on the street. On stage, he thanked his father, a professor, and his biological mother, who had just returned from abroad. He even thanked the nanny at home. But he left me out, his foster mother who had raised him. My husband, Charles Zimmer, learned about my death. He immediately disassociated himself from me. “We’ve long separated. I’ve got nothing to do with her.” I had worked hard to give them a decent life, but they regarded me as a stain that they could never remove. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the time of my life when my destiny changed. Holding the college admission letter, Charles smiled at me and said, “Yes, I’m divorced. But we can live in the city together if you marry me. I’ll let you discipline the kid if he makes any mistakes. I won’t complain about you.” During my previous life, he had me fooled by false promises. I naively thought that it would be easy to be a stepmother. I helped him care for his son and worked hard to support the family. In the end, they conspired with each other to drive me out and leave me penniless. It was because Charles’ ex-wife, who had abandoned them when he was poor, wanted to come home and remarry him. Since I had gained a second chance, I planned to dump such an ungrateful husband and son.

After I've completed 98 tasks for my fiancee, Cheryl Landeau, she finally agrees to marry me once I've completed the 99th task for her. For that task, I'm required to pick her up outside her company. On the day I stand outside Cheryl's company with a huge flower bouquet in my arms, I don't see her at all despite having waited till late night. Soon after, I get hospitalized due to a high fever. When I tap on my phone, the first thing I see is a photo of the marriage certificate belonging to Cheryl and her assistant, Jason York. Jason even includes a caption with the photo. "My mom is very satisfied with her daughter-in-law. Please take good care of me from now on, my dear wife." The next day, I hang a banner outside the company. "May Ms. Landeau and Mr. York grow old in harmony and be blessed with children." All of my colleagues are stunned, to say the least. At that moment, Cheryl quickly pulls me into her office. She then explains, "Jason's mom is severely ill. Her death wish is watch him get married. What's wrong with me fulfilling her wish? Can't you show more kindness toward Jason? "Now, stop throwing that tantrum of yours and get rid of the banner. Once Jason's mom passes away, I'll file for a divorce from him." I just smile as I set off more fireworks at the doorway. "Oh, you don't have to bother with a divorce. I'm worried that his mom might come back to life soon. Let's just end things here."

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, I noticed something strange. My best friend, Darren Blackburn, who had always been single, had suddenly changed his profile picture to a couple’s photo. "So you’ve been hiding a girlfriend from me?" I joked with a grin. "When are you bringing her around? I should at least meet her and make sure she’s good enough for you." He just smiled and shook his head, brushing it off. "Not yet," he said. "It’s not the right time." Then Deanna Cunningham, my wife’s voice called out from the kitchen, "Babe, come help me tie my apron." I hadn’t even pushed my chair back yet when Darren was already on his feet, jogging over. He stepped behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and tied the apron strings for her. I froze where I stood. Seeing the look on my face, he quickly tried to explain, "I’m just used to helping out at home. My mom’s always bossing me around. It’s basically muscle memory. Don’t read into it." I didn’t argue or make a scene. I kept my expression neutral and carried on with the dinner as if nothing had happened. Only after all the guests had left did I turn to Deanna, who was clearing the table, and say calmly, "Let’s get a divorce." She slammed the dishes down with a loud crash and glared at me. "Seriously? Over something like that? Just because he tied my apron once?"

The graduate school admissions are nearing an end. At the same time, a post titled, "What Happened to the Boy Who Left the Last Two Questions Blank for You?" goes viral. Amid countless comments criticizing people who throw away their futures for love, one young woman's boastful comment stands out. She writes, "Back then, he left the last two questions blank just so he could attend the same college as me. Now, he gives up his chance to attend graduate school abroad so that we won't have to enter a long-distance relationship. He says that between his future and me, I'll always be more important." Those who know they are loved always have the confidence to take it for granted. As soon as the comment is posted, countless replies pour in. There are envious replies and increasing arguments over the topic. I feel a twinge of envy because my boyfriend and I are the exact opposite. When my boyfriend does poorly on his exam, I want to apply to the same college as him. However, he advises me against it, saying my future is more important. Yesterday, he tells me he fails to secure a graduate school recommendation and won't be able to go abroad with me to continue his studies. Staring at the two lines on the pregnancy test, I begin seriously thinking about our future. Perhaps because the young woman has received too many hateful comments, she eventually posts a photo showing her boyfriend's side profile. She gloats, "You're all just jealous because I have a handsome boyfriend who loves me this much, aren't you?" The instant I see the photo, my blood runs cold. The man in that picture belongs to Joshua Salter, my boyfriend of seven years. Everything from the past comes crashing over me like a tsunami. It turns out the signs have been there all along. I wipe away my tears. Joshua is right. Between my future and him, my future is indeed more important.

I took my husband's suggestion and got myself a college-aged boyfriend. Only then did I understand why my husband never came home whenever he was with his college-aged girlfriend. In simple terms? It was too damn good. I let the young man stay in our house. I let him wear my husband's pajamas. I let him drink my husband's wine. I even gave him my husband's research data to help him write his thesis. I stood my husband up on a date so I could celebrate my boyfriend's 100th day with me. He responded by shoving me onto the bed, his eyes bloodshot. "Today's our third wedding anniversary, Madeline! Why do you only seem interested in spending time with him instead of me?" I stared at him in confusion. "What? You're the one who said we had an open relationship and that I could take another lover too!" I shot back. "I'm just doing exactly what you told me to!"

I've gone to the church to pray for my son, Robert Scott. On the way home, my carriage is overturned because the horses suffer from a shock. When I wake up, I look at my family gathering around my bed. Then, I decide to pull a prank on them. "Sorry, but who are you?" I do my best to suppress the smile that threatens to appear on my face. I want to see how my family is going to comfort me now that I have "amnesia". Will Mom and my husband, Jeremy Scott, take my hands comfortingly? Or will Robert lunge at me while crying out to me? What I don't expect is to see my family breathing sighs of relief after their initial shock has faded away. Mom is the first one to speak up with a hint of relief coloring her tone. "Since you've already forgotten all about us, then it's fine. Maisie, you're actually the adopted daughter of the Liddell family. Amber is the actual heiress of the Liddell family." Jeremy points at me while telling Robert, "Robbie, you must address her as Aunt Maisie." Before I can recover from my shock, I see my own son, whom I'm willing to sacrifice my life to protect, running over to hug Amber Liddell, the fake heiress, happily. "Mom, I've spent the whole day playing outside! Oh, I miss you so much!" So, it turns out that my case of amnesia is exactly what this family wants. In that case, I might as well abandon this farce of a family.

A week before our wedding, my fiancee, Lauren Blair, went to the hospital for a prenatal checkup. She was accompanied by her newly hired assistant, Ian Kane. Coincidentally, she ended up being assigned to my clinic. I stood there holding Lauren’s pregnancy report in my hand, staring through the narrow gap in the door at the two of them outside. Ian pulled her into his arms by the waist, confessing with aching tenderness, "Lauren, I love you." "I love you too, Ian. I'm only married to Sam because of the circumstances I’m stuck in, but you've always been the one who holds my heart." I stopped hesitating. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my father. "Dad, I accept the marriage alliance with Ms. Sheridan. The wedding date can remain. Just change the bride."

While waiting for my husband to pick me up at the parking lot, I came across a trending topic in my city. "How do I deal with an overly-clingy wife?" Amidst a flurry of boastful, lovey-dovey comments, one female username caught my attention. "Just pretend to be incompetent! My childhood friend was forced to marry someone he didn’t love. I gave him the idea to pretend to be directionally-challenged, which he has done for five years now. "When his wife got pregnant, he secretly mixed lubricant into the shower gel, causing her to slip. Then, on the way to the hospital, he pretended to get lost. He deliberately circled the suburbs several times, which led to her miscarriage and now she can't have children anymore." "Coincidentally, today is supposed to be the selection day for her promotion to professor. He offered to drive her to work, but he actually plans to pretend to get lost to make her late so that I can get promoted instead. "When she fails the selection, he’ll use that as a chance to convince her to quit her job, turn her into a useless housewife, and then kick her out!" Reading this suspiciously familiar experience sent a chill down my spine. Before I could ponder further, I heard my husband’s apologetic voice. "Sorry, honey, I got lost. I hope this won't affect your selection."

At the wedding, just as I was about to exchange rings with my fiancée, her conniving boyfriend intentionally pushed his son toward her. Right in front of everyone, the boy looked up with teary eyes and asked, "Mom, why are you marrying this man? Don't you want me and Dad anymore?" My fiancée, who never lied, smiled, took the child's hand, and said, "I was only pretending with this man earlier. Now I am going to marry your father." The banquet hall buzzed with whispers. Everyone expected me to get jealous and blow up. Instead, I said the child came first and calmly handed the ring to the boyfriend sitting below the stage. Seeing how cooperative I was, my fiancée grinned and promised she would give me a healthy baby boy someday as a thank you. However, she seemed to have forgotten that we had not officially tied the knot yet. Truth be told, I had no intention of ever doing so.

Yvonne Chapman risks her life to save Marcus Cunningham. She loses her hearing in the process and ends up being mocked and insulted by his friends. Later, she runs the risk of becoming brain-dead when she insists on undergoing surgery—she wants to regain her hearing. The surgery is successful. She plans to share her joy with Marcus. However, he calls his first love's name when they're in bed together. It turns out he's never forgotten her. Yvonne's love for him dies. She realizes there are more things in life for her. She goes abroad, leaving everything behind, including Marcus.

The day my mother brought her childhood sweetheart back to the villa, my father—who had already quit smoking—stood on the balcony and smoked through the entire night. Back then, his colleagues at the research institute all envied him for having a wife who was a CEO. They said he should have stayed home and enjoyed life—why work so hard outside when all he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the household finances? But my father never agreed. "Those things are all external," he would say. "As long as the feelings are still there, we'll be fine whether we're rich or poor. And if one day she no longer loves me, I'll leave with nothing and walk away alone." He never expected his words to become prophecy. My mother truly did stop loving him. Later, when she appeared before the media, arm in arm with that man, my father didn't look back. He boarded a flight overseas and disappeared from our lives. And as I stared at the photo in my social feed—my fiancée's hand entwined with someone else's—I knew it was time for me to leave too, just like my father had.

When my wife's lover changed the locks on our house for the ninth time and locked us out again, there was finally a hint of irritation on her face. I, on the other hand, calmly reassured her. "He's young. He doesn't know any better. Don't get worked up over it." Yvonne Fisher, who was about to break the lock open, froze mid-swing and turned to stare at me. "Aren't you angry?" I was at a loss for words. Throughout our five years of marriage, things like this had happened so often that if I'd kept getting angry, I would've died from it by now. Besides, my own lover was just as much of a handful. All I felt for Yvonne was sympathy.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

Right before the last full-length practice exam ahead of the SAT, my boyfriend, Blake Romero, who had always ranked in the top ten, somehow ended up with a score of zero. His eyes were red as he clung to me, his voice shaking while he said he had developed severe test anxiety. "Samantha, there's no way I'll get in this year. Can you stay back and retake the year with me? I can't do this without you." Looking at how pale he was, I almost gave in. On my way to the school clinic to grab him some meds to calm his nerves, I accidentally overheard him talking to a girl from a poor family. "Blake, what if Samantha finds out you're lying to her?" His voice turned soft, almost indulgent. "Relax. She loves me so much that she would give up anything for me. Even if she finds out, so what? Besides, her family's loaded. Losing a year won't matter to her. Arrington University only has two spots this year. As long as Samantha doesn't take the exam, those spots are ours." Standing outside the door, I felt as if I had just had a bucket of ice poured over me. So this was his plan! He was willing to ruin my future just to clear the way for the girl he really cared about. What he didn't realize was that Arrington University had only ever been my backup, something I chose just to stay by his side. Without him dragging me down, I could aim for something better.