Feel-Good Story Ambiguous Short Stories & Novels

When my wife, Anna Smith, and I went back to her hometown for the New Year’s, her male best friend, Liam Reid, barged into our bedroom. Late at night, he suddenly unbuttoned his top and exposed his bare chest. “Anna, my imaginary bosom hurts. Please massage them to make me feel better!” Anna wanted to massage his chest when I flipped the tumbler over next to our bed in frustration. Anna’s face immediately fell. She glared at me in hatred as she roared, “He’s experiencing a psychological issue due to hormonal imbalance. Do you even know science? Why is your mind in the gutter?” Liam pretended to cry as he sobbed, “Sawyer, don’t blame Anna. We’re best friends, and we’re basically sisters. “It’s my fault. If I had been born with a real bosom, I’d definitely stay away from Anna.” I looked at his fake demeanor and smirked. I did not tell them that I had obtained a wish stone, and that it allowed me to change one bodily structure. Since Liam desperately wanted to be a woman, I would make his wish come true by giving him a huge bosom. He could massage them however he wanted.

At the company's year-end party, a colleague asks me teasingly about when exactly my boyfriend, Hayden Potter, and I will get married. Hayden's female buddy, Melissa Somers, instantly speaks up for him. "He's not in a rush. After all, Hayden's main priority is his career." At first, I don't think much about Melissa's response. But the next thing I know, I suddenly hear her internal thoughts. [Marriage? When Hayden was sleeping over at my place, he promised me that he'd marry me!] I freeze up on the spot before whirling around to stare at Hayden and Melissa. At the moment, Melissa is taking a sip from Hayden's drink through the same straw he just used. Hayden never once looks at me. In fact, he even has an arm wrapped around Melissa's shoulders.

On Mother's Day, I was planning to give my mother-in-law a special gift, but to my surprise, I saw her enter a room with a Black man. When she came out half an hour later, her face was flushed…

After my father vanished with fifty million dollars belonging to the Vitale Family, I went from a pampered heiress to the Mafia Don's debt-bound maid. On my very first day, I discovered that Cassian—the cold creditor ordering me to polish his shoes by day—was the same online puppy who wore a collar, knelt, and called me Mistress at night. And just the night before, I'd dumped him because I “wasn't in the mood for arelationship.” In the study, he looked down at me coldly. “Miss Bennett, polish my shoes.” “A debtor doesn't get to choose her assignments.” At the same time, my phone was buzzing like crazy in my pocket. The “puppy” I'd blocked seventeen times was already begging through yetanother new account: [Mistress, please don't leave your puppy.] [You can punish your puppy however you want tonight.]

Oh ... Yes ... Like that ... You are the best ... They were at it again. Ever since that young man had moved in next door, these sounds had frequently invaded my room. It wasn't just that they were so loud, it was that once they began, they were sure to keep me up for half the night. I hammered on the wall, hoping they would quieten down. If anything, the noises only got louder. I could feel myself getting angry. I was on the warpath. I stormed outside and hammered on his door. But I was not prepared for what I saw once it opened. I shouldn't be privy to this, I thought. After witnessing this, how can I be allowed to live?

On the day my boyfriend, Antonio Vinci, proposes to me, his adoptive sister, Lucia Falcone, remarks on a whim, "How romantic. It makes me want to get married now as well." On the very same night, Antonio gives me an agreement. "You should leave. Here's a 50-million-dollar compensation. I'm going to get married soon." If this were to happen in the past, I'd have kicked up a huge ruckus and threatened to take my own life if Antonio didn't marry me. But now, I just ask for another 50 million dollars calmly. When I'm about to sign the agreement, I hear Antonio talking on the phone in another language. "Thank goodness I gave Daniela a marriage agreement. Otherwise, she'd seriously think I'd break up with her. I knew that Daniela would be perfect as my wife. She's obedient and docile, just like a loyal mutt. "As for Lucia, I can give her everything but a legitimate position by my side." My hand pauses momentarily. Then, I scribble Lucia's name on the agreement. What Antonio doesn't know is that I have an ongoing bet with Lucia. If I can ensnare Antonio's heart in ten years, she will back out of our relationship. If I fail to do so, I'll disappear permanently from their lives.

My name is Addison Calder. During my first heat as an adult werewolf, Morgan Flint suddenly announces that he wants to end things. I can't stop crying—not from a broken heart but because the torment of my mating cycle is consuming me from within. Gripping his sleeve tightly, I lean closer, attempting to kiss away the tension. Impatient, Morgan shoves me toward his older brother, Tucker Flint. "Hey, Tucker. Addie's drunk and losing it. Can you help calm her down?" As Tucker steps forward, Morgan leans in and whispers, "Keep an eye on her. Don't let any other men get close. I'm only breaking up with her for now. Once I'm done fooling around, I'll get back together with her." Tucker nods and gently lifts me into the car. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he says softly. Overwhelmed by the pain, I clutch his tie with tears streaming down my face. "Please… Help me," I plead. Tucker's pupils contract, his voice low and hoarse. "And how exactly do you want me to help you?" In a flash, I lean in and press my lips to his. "Kiss me… or let me kiss you." Our passionate kiss melts away much of the tension gnawing at me. Noticing Tucker's reddened ears, I grab his tie once more. "Will you take me home?"

When I defeated Natalie for the tenth time and claimed the Supermodel Champion title, her childhood sweetheart, Jared Johnson, proposed to me. With his devastatingly handsome face, he walked on stage and kneeled on one knee with a ring in hand. “Will you marry me?” I smiled and said yes. That very night, he became mine. Throughout seven years of marriage, I stepped away from the runway. Instead, I gained three beautiful children. They inherited my supermodel figure and their father’s stunning looks. Together, the four of us turned heads wherever we went. On my birthday, Jared handed me the registration form for the “Supermodel Showdown”. I knew he wanted me to live in Natalie’s shadow and be nothing more than her backdrop. However, I signed my name without hesitation. I already had the best of his genes, after all. Now, it was time to take back the crown that belonged to me.

During the summer vacation, I go overseas with my boyfriend, Cornell Glover, to attend his favorite music festival that is called the Tuchella Music Festival. When we are lining up to go into the venue under the sweltering heat of 86F, I go to the vendors nearby to buy him some iced bottled water. But by the time I get back, Cornell is gone. To make things worse, my digital ticket shows that it has already been checked in. Anxious, I call him and ask, "Have you gone in? Why does my ticket show that I've checked in?" Cornell replies, "Oh. I ran into Ellie Valdez, the intern from our department, just now. She was crying at the entrance because she couldn't get a ticket, so I gave yours to her." "Are you crazy? I was the one who got us those VIP front-row seats!" I exclaim. "Come on. It's not like you're interested in rock music. You'd just be scrolling on your phone after you get in. Ellie is a diehard fan. Don't you think you should let someone who appreciates the music have this instead?" Cornell says nonchalantly. I am so shocked that I don't know what to say. After a few seconds, I say in disbelief, "So you left me out here, all alone, for an intern's sake?" Cornell sounds dismissive as he says, "You can hear the music from outside anyway. Just find somewhere to sit and wait until the music festival ends. Don't be so selfish." I listen to the long, monotonous beep after he hangs up on me for a moment before calling my lead singer brother right away.

I served three years in federal prison for the Don's precious Sophia, and then he suddenly fell for me. The day he came to pick me up, he had a sapphire necklace ready, the kind I'd begged him for once and never got. I dropped it onto the back seat without a second glance. His expression darkened. "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't take it out on things." I smiled. "Three years inside taught me never to keep anything valuable on me. It would only bring trouble." He swallowed hard and pulled me close. "That's over now. You have me. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." I pushed him back. "Then give me my wedding ring." I'd told him once: if the day ever came that I was leaving, I'd take that ring with me. Three years had been more than enough to kill whatever love I had left.

My husband only lasts a minute each time. As a mature woman in my thirties, I often find myself lying awake at night, feeling like something is missing from my life. That is, until I met a rugged, muscular mechanic while getting my car repaired. Watching his strong muscles flex beneath his tank top awakened a desire I hadn’t felt in a long time. Our brief, intense encounter left me overwhelmed with emotions I couldn’t control. Just as things were about to go too far, I pushed him away, not wanting to make a mistake. But then I discovered that my husband had already been cheating on me with our pregnant neighbor. So, maybe I should just...

At the National High School Football All-Star Game, my boyfriend Evan had just been named MVP. Sophia, the cheer captain, immediately posted on Instagram. Caption: "Guess who got a little something from the champion himself~" The photo turned out to be a pair of Evan's worn underwear! Scrawled across them in lipstick were the words: "For my dearest Sophia." She held them up with her long acrylic nails, pouting for the selfie. The internet exploded. "Why does she have his underwear?" "Isn't it obvious? They're totally together." "Sitting here waiting for the official couple photo." Within seconds, a close-up of the two of them cheek-to-cheek surfaced in the comments. Congratulations and teasing flooded the feed. I gripped my phone, a chill spreading through my entire body. Evan had promised to go public about us ages ago but kept putting it off, saying he needed to prove himself first. He'd been stalling ever since. Now here I was, his actual girlfriend, and I didn't even get an invite to his victory party. I took a deep breath and called him. "Explain." On the other end, Evan's voice was lazy, almost amused. "The fans grabbed everything off me. Jersey, pads, all of it. Sophia insisted on keeping something as a souvenir, so I gave her the underwear. No big deal." "The Instagram post is just riding the hype. Don't be so uptight about it." Then Sophia's voice chimed in. "Yeah, honey, Evan and I are like brothers! I've seen everything on him already. It's just a pair of boxers, so don't be so petty." I listened to their increasingly flirtatious banter through the speaker, then slowly pulled off my engagement ring and tossed it aside. "Fine," I said to Evan. "I'll be the bigger person. Why don't you skip the 'girl bro' thing and just make her your girlfriend? I'm tired of watching this act."

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.