Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Melodramatic Awakening

After being reborn, I'm taken back to the day I confessed my love for my childhood friend. In my past life, I had to plead and beg before he begrudgingly agreed to marry me. "You look pathetic when you beg me for anything, Annabelle." That was what Hayden Gulman always said to me. He was so cold to me that he even canceled the part where we read our vows to each other during the wedding. When I was eight months pregnant, he took a photo of my belly covered in stretch marks. Then, he complained to his true love about the unhappiness he faced after marrying me. When I went into a difficult labor due to my agitation, he and his true love were on vacation. At that moment, my heart finally died. It turned out my one-woman show couldn't be considered love at all. Now that I've been reborn, I smile when I see the disdainful look in his eyes. I say, "We have nothing to do with each other from this moment on. I only wish to be happy."

This was our last road trip before graduation. My girlfriend, my two childhood friends, and my best friend had all agreed that the five of us would do the whole trip together. But on the third day, one of our cars broke down, leaving only four free seats. My girlfriend, Eleanor Delaney, handed me a six-hour bus ticket without hesitation. “You don’t get carsick anyway. Just tough it out. We’ll wait for you at the next stop.” Just when my best friend, Edmund Turner, was about to volunteer to take the ticket, my two other childhood friends, Faye Howard and Lily Concord, cut him off. Faye frowned. “You were throwing up yesterday. Why are you trying to play the hero?” Lily chimed in, “Are you sure you can handle six hours on the bus?” Eleanor had already carried my luggage out for me. She said with a smile, “Everett will be fine. He can handle it.” As always, I agreed. But six hours later, when I reached the destination we had agreed on, I discovered that they had changed their route and gone to another city on a whim. In the group chat, the four of them ate barbecue and laughed happily. No one even remembered to inform me about the change of plans. At that moment, I recalled what had happened over the past few years. When Edmund felt cold, they offered him three jackets. When he felt tired, everyone would stop to let him rest. The less I complained, the more they took me for granted. This time, I was done chasing after them. I bought a return ticket and replied to the out-of-town company that I had turned down two weeks earlier. [Hello, I’d like to accept the position you offered me before.] I did not want to be around people I had known for over a decade anymore.

Three days before my blood oath ceremony, someone planted a silver crucifix in the bridal shop and set it ablaze while I was inside trying on my ceremonial gown. My fiancé — Vampire Lord Damien — had the arsonist thrown into the silver prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the healing chamber, my body covered in severe burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Damien speaking with the coven's apothecary. "My Lord, we can still heal her completely with the ancient blood rites. If we wait any longer, Serena will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Vivienne to be your Consort at the blood oath ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the ceremony." "I promised Vivienne that her child would be welcomed into the coven with full honors. Only when Serena is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Vivienne's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the boy." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The blood oath ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The blood bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

Caroline Reed is sleeping with her childhood friend, Sheldon Graham, for the 999th time, and she's as passionate as ever. The next morning, Sheldon is covered in scratches and love bites. Every time he moves, he's reminded of the passion and the wildness of the night before. The tension from the night before lingers. Caroline rests against him, her slender fingers tracing circles over his firm chest. "Wear something nice tomorrow. You're coming home with me," she says casually. Sheldon looks up in shock, hope rising in his voice as he asks, "Are you… finally going to tell everyone about us?" Caroline raises an eyebrow and shoots him a sidelong glance. "Tell them what? I've got a date set up at home tomorrow. I need you there so things don't get awkward for him."

On the eve of my wedding, my friends threw a joint bachelor and bachelorette party for Natalie Cole and me at a bar. After a few rounds of drinks, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The bottle landed on me first. My younger brother, Kayden Wilson, grinned. "I dare you to take off your pants. Let's see what you've got." The whole table immediately erupted in cheers. I glanced at Natalie, but she kept her head down and continued scrolling through her phone without a word. Hence, I took off my pants and stood there in nothing but my underwear. In the second round, the bottle landed on me again. My sister, Hannah Wilson, raised her glass and asked half-jokingly, "Logan, I dare you to admit you're pathetic enough that you can't live without a woman." My face burned, but everyone was staring at me, waiting to see if I'd ruin the mood. I closed my eyes and said hoarsely, "I admit it." Eventually, the bottle landed on Natalie. Her friend, Veronica Reed, grinned. "I dare you to tell your soon-to-be hubby what you were doing behind everyone's back last night." Natalie paused for two seconds before she looked at Benjamin Henderson beside her, her eyes full of affection. "He got drunk and insisted I take him back to his hotel. Then he threw up all over himself, so I helped him shower and changed him into his pajamas. He said he didn't want to sleep alone, so I held him until morning," she revealed. The private room fell silent for a moment before suggestive laughter erupted around the table. Benjamin playfully tickled her and scolded her for embarrassing him by revealing his secrets. But I stood there frozen, unable to say a word. Finally, Veronica pointed toward the little quickie wedding chapel attached to the bar. "Then I dare you to take Benjamin over there, get married, and have it annulled afterward." Benjamin's eyes lit up as he looked at Natalie. I looked at her too. Natalie gave an exasperated smile, took his hand, and walked toward the chapel as the crowd cheered them on. At that moment, I suddenly felt there was no point in going through with our wedding the day after tomorrow.

Everyone says Zachary Suffold is hopelessly in love with Madison Fulmer. He's stayed by her side at her poorest, working three jobs a day to support her so she can focus on playing the piano. He's drunk himself into the hospital with a bleeding stomach just to secure performance opportunities for her. Over the last three years, he has poured his heart and soul into turning her into a renowned pianist. He's especially protective of her hands, the very hands she uses to play the piano. Once, a rival deliberately threw boiling water at Madison's hands. Without a second thought, Zachary threw himself in front of her, using his own body to shield her from the scalding water. Madison walked away unharmed, but Zachary suffered third-degree burns. Even now, an ugly scar remains on his arm. Later, someone from the orchestra asks Madison, "When do you plan to marry Zachary?" She merely frowns in displeasure. "When did I ever say I'd marry him? He's not even my boyfriend. He's just a loyal little simp who does whatever I tell him. He's not good enough to marry me." Little does Madison know, she's not good enough for him, either. After all, she's nothing but a stand-in.

It all started because my daughter, Joy Harrell, threw a tantrum wanting to go to the amusement park. On the way there, we got into an accident that left my wealthy husband, Brian Harrell, paralyzed in both legs, unable to ever stand again. As punishment, he slashes our daily allowance to a mere ten cents, and Joy and I are forced to survive by scavenging through trash and even fighting wild dogs for food. One day, dizzy with hunger, Joy eats some cookie crumbs that the family doctor, Aurora Bradley, drops on the floor. She does so out of sheer hunger and desperation. However, Brian immediately berates her for "stealing" and forces her to kneel outside in the pouring rain for ten hours before being allowed back inside the villa. Furious, I go to confront him, but instead I see his crippled legs standing tall, holding hands with Aurora as they waltz to the music. Brian's friend looks out the window and feels sorry for us, saying, "Look, Brian, your daughter's tantrum might have caused you to miss your last chance to see your first love ever again, but don't you think that you've already punished her and your wife long enough for that? "You even hired a stand-in to pose as a doctor in the house. Surely your anger has cooled off by now, right?" Brian scoffs and replies coldly, "They were thoughtless enough to ruin the seven-year pact I had with Dorothy. This punishment is nothing—in fact, it's way too light for them. "Don't you ever bring this up again. Only two more years of their punishment remain. Once it's over, I'll make it up to them properly." However, Brian doesn't know that I've been saving all of the good food I can ever get for Joy, and thus, I've developed terminal stomach cancer. In other words, I will never live to see the future. But I will also never let Joy stay by his side to suffer any longer.

I ignored my friends and family’s objections and insisted on pursuing my now-girlfriend, who was disfigured in a car crash when she tried to save her first love. Some laughed at me for being a back-up plan, but I didn’t care. I worked day and night, earning money for her plastic surgery, and stayed by her side as she walked out of depression. But on the eve of our wedding day, as I was doing her laundry, a marriage certificate dropped out of her pants pocket. The groom was her first love. I was about to make things clear with her when I overheard her conversation with her best friend. “I know Steve saved me, but if Yves doesn’t marry me, he’ll be forced into a marriage alliance. I don’t want to see him lose his freedom. “As for Steve, I’ll find someone to forge a certificate for me. Don’t blurt this out, okay…” I felt my blood then grow cold as I quietly changed the groom of our wedding three days later to her first love. By the time she found out about the surprise, I would have left for abroad, never to return.

Three days after my boyfriend’s adopted sister died a tragic death, I clutched a so-called "hush money" check in my hand and became an accomplice in everyone’s eyes. My boyfriend once knelt in the pouring rain to beg me, and his sister’s five-year-old daughter cried and begged me to testify, but I refused them both. Ten years later, when I was dying of cancer, my boyfriend had become a billionaire. The first thing he did upon returning to the country was to forcibly extract my memories, even though I would suffer endless pain. "Elara, you vain, heartless monster! Lily and I must have been blind to ever treat you like family!" "Lily has been dead for ten years, and you’ve been walking free with that dirty money the whole time!" "Today, I’m going to find out exactly who paid you off—the person you protected just for money!" My boyfriend held a press conference to publicly crucify me for my crimes. But after seeing the whole truth, he went completely insane.

On New Year's Eve, I hurry home from abroad to surprise my wife, Moira Wesley, from whom I've kept my return a secret. But when I push open the front door of our home, I'm greeted by the sound of laughter and friendly chatter. Overcome with emotions, I enter the house to see Moira with a baby in her arms as she announces sweetly, "Today, we celebrate New Year's Eve and Beatrice's one-month birthday! Happy New Year, everyone!" Upon hearing my entrance, Moira glances over her shoulder, then turns and walks toward me. She grabs the mug of hot tea on the table and splashes it at me. "Who are you? How dare you trespass into a private residence on New Year's Eve?" I try to ignore the burning pain on the left side of my face as I grab Moira's arm, hoping she'll explain herself. However, she shrugs off my grip and gives me another hard slap. "Noah, call the police! Tell them a suspicious person broke into our home and is attempting to rob us!" After that, Moira winks at me, then turns with the baby in her arms and joins an older couple. "Francine, Eric, don't worry about that. It was someone irrelevant." I stand in place, watching as the large family has fun in the house that now seems so unfamiliar, and feel a sudden wave of emptiness wash over me.

My husband’s family has a tradition of couples living apart together, and he can't publicly acknowledge our relationship until a son is born. He forces me to respect his family's traditions and tells me to raise our daughter alone. Six years after we got married, Andrew Sonovan inherits everything his late brother left behind, including his widow, Kasey Jordan. To satisfy his family's demands for him to carry on both lines, he sleeps with Kasey time and time again. Then, he holds me in his arms. "I can have a proper wedding with you once Kasey gets pregnant and carries on my brother's line. Hold on for a bit longer…" However, all I get is the news of him marrying Kasey. "Marry me, Kasey! I'll make you the happiest woman in the world!" I watch as Andrew gets on one knee in the glow of the flickering candlelight. He looks at Kasey lovingly as he proposes. Meanwhile, she rubs her baby bump, looking blissful. My daughter and I stand outside the room and witness their happiness. It's only then do I understand that I'm the only one who's been in the dark for the past six years.

I have always known since I was young that I am not the Luther family's biological son. I accidentally break my younger brother Henry Luther's limited-edition figure while cleaning the room, and Dad punishes me by making me kneel in the rain all night. Dad actually defends Henry when he accidentally blinds me in one eye with a high-powered laser pointer, saying, "Henry didn't do it on purpose. He just got rowdy while playing around, Julian." Henry flashes me a triumphant smile once I go permanently blind in my right eye. "That's what you get for living in our house when you're nothing but an outsider!" I am nothing but an outsider to them. I have done everything I can to please them for the past 18 years, but I have never managed to become part of their family. I accidentally discover a shocking truth one day—the paternity test clearly proves that I am Dad's biological son, whereas Henry is the adopted one. In that instant, my breath catches in my throat.

My girlfriend used to answer every call I made. Then her first love came back to town. Since then, she’d begun ignoring my calls. The first time, she rolled out a red carpet at the airport to welcome that man home. With cameras flashing around her, she glanced at my name on her phone and let it ring. The second time, she was throwing him a birthday party while I sat alone at the restaurant where we'd agreed to meet. I waited until the staff locked up for the night. And then came the hundredth call. Acute appendicitis had left me in so much pain I could barely stay conscious, but I managed to dial her number one last time. All I heard was the same automated message: "The number you dailed is busy now..." I later learned she'd been celebrating a major contract win with him at a restaurant overlooking the city. He even posted a picture of them together. "Thanks for making me your top priority," his caption read. Someone commented, "You two are practically a couple already. When are you making it official?" He replied with a blushing emoji. By the time she reached the hospital, my surgery was over. She smelled of another man's tobacco smoke. "Sorry. I couldn't get away from the business dinner," she told me. "You know he just moved back. He needs my help getting established. I promise it won't happen again." The anesthesia hadn't fully worn off, but somehow I managed a polite smile. "Okay," I said. Don't worry. There won't be a next time. Not for us.

After my sister and I were both diagnosed with liver failure, we were admitted to the same hospital. But only one matching donor liver was available. My family favored her. I still wanted to live. I broke down in the hospital hallway, pleading with my parents for that chance. Someone filmed me and posted the video online. Everyone called me cold and selfish. They said I had sacrificed my humanity just to stay alive. When it was time to sign the preoperative paperwork, my brother finally came to my room. His face was hard. The moment he saw me, he started in on me. He wouldn't even look at me. "This family has always indulged you because you're the youngest. Haven't you caused enough trouble? "Camilla Hale is only twenty. Her life is just beginning. "You've been sickly since childhood, but we've taken care of you all these years. What would it cost you to put her first this once? "You've been sick your whole life, and you've always pulled through." He didn't know Camilla had secretly switched our test results. Before I could tell him, his phone rang. Camilla sobbed on the other end, asking if I was still being heartless. Henry's voice softened as he reassured her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. "This is yours. No one is going to take it from you." Whenever I got sick as a child, my brother, Henry Hale, carried me to the hospital on his back. Back then, he would hold my hand and say, "Livia, I'll be your guardian angel." Now, as I looked at his familiar face, I understood how much trouble I had caused everyone... "All right, Henry. She can have the transplant."

Damon Westbrook was kidnapped and held in the mountains for three months, subjected to every kind of humiliation. Three hellish months ground away every bit of fight he had. After his rescue, he developed severe PTSD. He hurt himself. He tried to end his life. Nightmares came every night. Through it all, Eleanor Carrington never left his side, holding him and comforting him again and again. "Damon, I'll always be here. When you're better, we'll get married." To help him heal, Eleanor brought back Marcus Keane, a former upperclassman of hers in college, who was finishing his doctorate in psychology overseas. The first time Damon met Marcus, he seemed calm and gentle, considerate in every way. "Don't be afraid. Eleanor and I will make sure you recover completely." Damon was deeply grateful. He cooperated with every treatment. Even when the sessions left him wishing he were dead, he gritted his teeth and endured. He believed everyone was doing everything they could to save him. Until tonight. The sliding glass door to the balcony hadn't closed all the way, and two low voices carried clearly to him. Eleanor and Marcus. Marcus took out a cigarette, his tone light. "When my research hit a dead end, I had no choice but to come to you for help. I never expected—" Eleanor turned her back to the wind and lit it for him. "Once the experiment is done, your dissertation is guaranteed to win the top international award." Marcus exhaled a stream of smoke and chuckled. "I only said in passing that a real case would be nice. I never thought you'd arrange a kidnapping yourself—let alone the kidnapping of the man you're about to marry."

Nikolai Edevane and I had grown up together in a psychiatric hospital. We were childhood sweethearts who had known each other since we were young. Everyone in our circle said the Edevane family had raised a pair of vicious monsters, and no one dared cross us. "Anthea, monsters that crawl out of Hell are meant to stick together. Neither of us will ever be allowed to leave the other." On Nikolai's birthday, I helped him complete the final piece of his business empire. What I received in return was news that our twin sons had died in a car accident. The chauffeur had been drunk and fled the scene. On the eve of the trial, Nikolai set off fireworks across the entire city to celebrate his "recovery." Then, he took a pregnant woman by the hand and brought her before me. "Daphne is the only light in my life. She saved me. This ends here! Stop making a scene!" My eyes were bloodshot with grief and rage. "Nikolai, your sons died!" Nikolai said quietly, "Our sons may be dead, but you still have me. You still have your status as Mrs. Edevane. We'll have plenty more children in the future. However, Daphne only has her father left in this world."

I'm about to get married under the witness of the Goddess of the Moon. However, Carl Erickson, my partner of ten years, doesn't know it yet. Carl has recently hired a new assistant—Ivy Keating. Everyone in the wolf pack knows something amorous is going on between them; they frequently "discuss work" until the wee hours of the night. A celebration that's supposed to be for our anniversary turns into Ivy's birthday celebration. Carl orders a ten-layer mango cream cake for the celebration—it's Ivy's favorite. They get cream everywhere, but they've forgotten I'm seriously allergic to mangoes. A regular mango is as lethal to me as wolf venom is. I'm taken away by an ambulance to be rescued, and I'm alone when I wake up. Carl is still at the party, celebrating Ivy's birthday. My wolf growls unhappily, and my love for Carl dies. It's then that I agree to the marriage my family has arranged for me. I'm going to marry a true Alpha.

At my engagement party, my fiancee's male best friend pulled my pants down in front of over 500 guests. I desperately grabbed my belt and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing. He thought I was making a fuss over nothing. "I just wanted to see what color underwear you're wearing." As he spoke, he held up the Besties Chat Group, which included my fiancee, Justine Severin. A poll was underway. "What color underwear will Henry Banks be wearing today?" There were eight people in the group, and seven had voted. Justine only replied, "Cut it out." I froze, then turned in disbelief toward my impeccably dressed fiancee standing behind me. Justine frowned. "Everyone was just messing around to liven things up. Don't take it seriously." She turned back and continued chatting and laughing with the other guests as if nothing had happened. At that moment, I suddenly realized just how rotten the woman standing before me was. I took off my engagement ring and dropped it into a champagne glass. "Let's call off the engagement."

Just as I'm on the verge of successfully completing my mission, my System suddenly crashes and is replaced by a new one. That's when I learn the truth that Cherie Blackstone's agreement to marry me is fake from the very beginning. Not only does she already have a lover, but even her affection for me is also entirely feigned. She loathes me, the person who has been constantly pursuing her since childhood. Even her moments of intimacy with me are merely a ploy to let her true love be reborn inside my body. The new System can't bear to watch the situation get any worse and chooses to reveal the truth to me. It lets me make a choice. "If you choose to abandon the mission now, you will die together with her true love. But if you choose to complete the mission, you will receive a new body as compensation for the System switch. "However, before you receive your new body, you will lose all your memories and eventually die." So, does that mean I would forget Cherie and have her watch me die in the end? Of course I choose to continue with the mission with a deal like that.

When I was eight, my parents nearly got divorced for the first time. They grabbed me by the arms, one on each side, and forced me to choose between them. "Go with your mother, and you won't even be able to afford tutoring." "Go with him, and you'll starve!" I clutched the hem of my shirt, too afraid to say a word. Mom sneered. "Look at her, too scared to even speak. She's just like you." Dad gave me a scornful look. "Where did she get that lack of sense? No one in my family is this stupid." In the end, they never signed the divorce papers. "If it weren't for you, we would've divorced years ago." For the next ten years, I heard those same words over and over again. Every time, all I could do was apologize. When Mom lost her job, she blamed me for costing too much in tutoring fees. When Dad failed to get promoted, he blamed me for always getting sick. I grew up believing I was the only thing keeping them trapped in their miserable marriage. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, we went to the county clerk's office. A staff member asked me, "Do you want your parents to get divorced?" "Yes," I said. "They'd be better off divorced." I never expected them to turn toward me at the same time. "We raised you for eighteen years, and this is the thanks we get?" "If we'd known you'd turn out like this, we would never have had you." They did not get divorced that day. Instead, they went home together. What they did not know was that I had been diagnosed with severe depression. This time, I was the one who wanted to leave. ‘From now on, your marriage is yours to deal with. You can end it yourselves.’