Cerita Pendek & Novel Tragic Love Awakening

Three years after his release from prison, Cody Lawson finally learns how to coexist peacefully with Titus Sweeney, his sugar mommy's husband. When Titus is neglected, Cody encourages her to spend more time with him. When Titus gets worried that Cody might have a child with her, Cody makes sure to use strict contraceptive measures, going so far as to undergo a vasectomy for his sake. In their social circle, Cody is jokingly dubbed the "ideal kept man", the one who gives the legal spouse the least amount of trouble. Andrew Lloyd, a social-media-influencer friend of Titus', arranges a live-streamed interview with Cody. The camera is angled straight at Cody's face as Andrew asks with a hint of disdain, "So, Mr. Lawson, you dropped out of Strawford University at 20 and became the star performer at Nirvana Host Club. "Later, you latched onto Ms. Harvey, who was already engaged to Titus, and even stabbed Titus in a fit of jealousy, landing yourself a five-year prison sentence. "I'm curious, though. Can a gold-digger like you ever truly love someone?" Cody pauses, then offers a faint, wry smile as he replies, "I can. When I was 18, I had my first-ever girlfriend. Her name was Jennifer Harvey." She had been so good to him, and yet, later on, she faked her own death just to deceive him.

I could see everyone’s loyalty score floating above their heads. Once it dropped below 60%, they would eventually leave. The day my father cheated, his loyalty score fell from 69% to 23%. The day my sister ran away from home, hers dropped to 7%. So later, whenever I dated someone, I always knew when to walk away. I never stayed long enough to be abandoned. Until I met Ethan Hayes. His loyalty score had always been 100%. I thought I had finally found true love. But on our daughter’s third birthday, he broke his promise and didn’t show up. That night, when he finally came home, the number above his head had fallen from 100% to 87%. I stared at it for a long moment. Then I thought, It was time to start planning my exit again.

After five long years of dating, Winona Shaw finally said yes. I was elated, like a scavenger who'd struck gold. I put everything I had into the engagement party, but out of the blue, Winona embraced Claude Landton instead. She even tried to frame me and boot me to jail. I canceled the party and called the cops instead. That made Winona mad, and Claude started panicking. Icily, I said, "Now, calm down. We have a lot of trials to go through. See you in court."

After being Nelson Jackson’s devoted simp for five years, Sarah Paterson became pregnant. Just as she was excitedly waiting for him to propose, Nelson had a change of heart when his high school sweetheart returned from studying abroad. Sarah didn't fight to keep the relationship. Instead, she went straight to the hospital, had an abortion, and immediately agreed to the arranged marriage her family had set up with a business partner's son. But Nelson came to regret his decision. He begged Sarah to keep his child, but she only gave him two words in response. "Too late."

Every time Millie Johnson, my daughter, returns home from playing with my best friend's dog at his place during summer break, she brings home an expensive doll. I have no choice but to pinch pennies and save up for a gift for my best friend after seeing how much Millie loves the dolls. I return home earlier than usual one day and overhear Millie talking excitedly into her smartwatch from her hiding spot in her room. "Mission accomplished, Mommy! Daddy didn't suspect a thing!" I am momentarily stunned. I am convinced that I have misheard, but then I hear Millie ask for a reward. "You're taking your wedding anniversary photos with Papa today, right? Can I come along, too? I'm so sick of eating plain pasta with Daddy every day, Mommy!" I freeze, my breath catching as I snatch the smartwatch from her. I happen to see the photo that has just been sent over. Sophie Johnson, my wife—who is supposed to be on her janitorial duty this morning—is actually wearing a pure white wedding dress. I stare at the screen, my hands trembling uncontrollably as my heart skips a beat. Millie tosses her doll aside and hurriedly tells me off, "You can't just snoop on me, Daddy! I'll be heading out to play with the doggy later, so don't bother us!" She excitedly peers out the window and waits for her ride after saying that. I stand frozen in place, staring at the apology message Sophie sent just a minute earlier. "I'm so sorry, Steven. It's all my fault for blowing the business and making you and Millie suffer so much all these years. I swear I'll make it up to you, Steven." I feel a sharp pang in my chest, leaving me barely able to breathe. I don't want to confront Sophie yet, so I simply trail the car that has come to pick Millie up instead.

Five years after their breakup, Lauren Scott signed a master-servant contract with Yale Sutton, the ex-boyfriend who had been penniless when they were together. Yale would pay off her debts, and in return, Lauren had to fulfill his every demand. "Lauren, take off one piece of clothing, and I'll knock a million off your debt." Yale spoke slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. Around the private room, the men hooted and cheered while the women laughed and made teasing remarks. Lauren gritted her teeth. "Fine. Just don't go back on your word, Mr. Sutton." Without a moment's hesitation, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor, baring her porcelain-white skin and most of her full, rounded breasts. The room fell silent for a moment before whistles erupted from every direction.

Despite using my cornea, my husband, Felix Halward, forced me to kneel on glass shards. Despite using my heart, my daughter declared that I was not fit to be her mother. Before my artificial heart stopped beating, I called Felix, only to have him snap at me, “Liana, could you stop kicking up a fuss? If you want to die that badly, do it somewhere far away! I’m not collecting your corpse!” I shut my remaining left eye as I lay on the snow. Later on, Felix, who had stopped loving me, plucked out his own eyeball. My daughter, who had denounced me, tried taking her life multiple times just so that she could see me again. However, I no longer longed for their love.

Marty Greene, a newly hired assistant, publicly humiliates me by calling me a worthless nobody who hangs around Audrey Melton. As my girlfriend and an award-winning actress who loves me more than life itself, Audrey promises to stand up for me. She devises a seven-day plan to build Marty up before bringing him crashing down. On the first day, she replaces me with Marty as her personal assistant, claiming she wants him to understand how hard I work. On the third day, she gives him a luxury car and a mansion, supposedly to make him lose himself in vanity. On the fifth day, she bakes him a birthday cake on a live reality show. She insists it's a crucial part of her plan and begs me to be patient. Then on the seventh day, my mother, Deborah Faulkner, suddenly falls gravely ill. As she lies dying, her final wish is to see Audrey one last time. Audrey readily agrees. But I wait at the hospital all night, and she never shows up. Instead, all I see is a post from Marty on X. "Audrey is simply too kind for her own good. She almost falls for a scam after just one phone call. Luckily, I'm smart enough to see through it and stop her from falling for it." Mom dies without ever getting to see Audrey again. It's not until the following day that Audrey finally calls. "Babe, just hang in there a little longer. I'm going to expose Marty's vanity and ruin his reputation at today's awards ceremony. Then, we'll go public with our relationship and have the wedding of the century to make Mrs. Landry happy." Audrey has no idea that Mom is already dead, and that I'm done waiting for her.

The peach I’d given my childhood friend was rotting in the corner of his desk again. Juice had soaked through the little note I’d written, and the sickly sweet smell had everyone nearby complaining. One of my classmates covered his nose. “Mia Ander, is that your trash again? It stinks.” My face burned as I hurried over and picked up the peach. “It’s not trash! “It only went bad because no one bothered to take care of it.” Just then, Julian Waterson walked into the classroom. He paused for a moment. Then, without saying a word, he picked up the strawberry milk the prettiest girl in class had given him, pushed the straw through the lid, and took a sip. The next day, I brought another peach. But this time, I didn’t leave it on the corner of Julian’s desk. His longtime rival leaned across his desk and held out a hand with a grin. “If he doesn’t want it, give it to me.” “No.” “Why not?” I looked down and took a bite from the sweetest part of the peach. “Because from now on, I’m keeping the best for myself.”

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."

The day before our wedding, my fiancé Cyrus eloped with his long-lost love. I chased after him, but he shoved me away viciously, causing me to lose consciousness. When the doctor called him as my life was on the brink, all he did was scoff and say, “She’s just pretending again. In a coma? Hah, she’s still alive, isn’t she?” That moment, my heart shattered. After I was discharged from the hospital, I cancelled the wedding, just as he wanted. But then he began to regret it…

In the seventh year of our relationship, my boyfriend, Hunter Jenkin, seemed to have lost interest in everything. Desperate to figure out what still excited him, I bought a wristband that measured romantic excitement and fastened it around his wrist myself. When we watched a movie together, the wristband registered just 1 point. When we climbed a snow-covered mountain and kissed at the summit, the score was only 5. On his birthday, when I slipped a ring onto his finger, it rose to a mere 8. No matter what I did, I could never spark any real excitement in him. I was almost ready to give up, and I even suspected that the wristband was nothing more than an overpriced gimmick. Then, on the first night of Hunter’s business trip, my phone suddenly began vibrating nonstop. [Your partner’s romantic excitement score: 90.] I stared at the screen, stunned. By 1 a.m., the score had hit 100 and stayed there all night. I opened the location tracker, only to find an address so familiar that it sent a chill through me. It was the home of my best friend, Candace Lindhurst. Hunter had not lost his capacity for love. He had simply directed it all to someone else.

On the high platform, Garrett Logan suddenly unclipped the safety harness at my back. Before I could even react, he shoved me off. I slammed hard onto the crash pad below, pain ripping through my entire body. By the time the staff pulled me back up, his childhood friend, Sienna Yates, was doubled over with laughter, holding up her phone. On her screen, the clip of me falling kept replaying on a loop. “Garrett, did you see her face just now?” The moment Sienna laughed, Garrett visibly relaxed. Sienna was autistic, and for some reason, nothing made her laugh like watching me humiliate myself. So during the ten years I dated Garrett, scenes like this happened over and over again. When I lost my job, Garrett hung up a banner and celebrated with her. When I was hospitalized after a car accident, he stood outside my room with her and watched me like I was entertainment. Every year on her birthday, he made me dress up like a clown just to make her smile. He knew perfectly well that without a safety harness, I could have died. But if it meant making Sienna happy, Garrett would push me without a second thought. Blood ran from the gash on my forehead, blurring my vision. As I kept wiping it away, one thought rose with startling clarity: Maybe I was finally done holding on to a ten-year mistake.

At our old training-camp reunion, someone asked Ronan Blackwood a question no one had dared to ask the Alpha of Blackridge Pack. Back when pack tradition required him to hide his identity and everyone thought he was an ordinary wolf with no future, which she-wolf had he truly wanted? Ronan looked at me first. Then his gaze shifted to Chloe Hart across the table. “Her.” Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. She claimed the love letter she had written eight years ago had landed in the wrong training bag. According to her, Ethan—the future Beta she had dated—was never the man she truly wanted. She had always wanted Ronan. Everyone fell in love with their tragic story. Then they turned on me. As far as they knew, I was Sera Vale—the ordinary wolf who had spent years chasing a man far above her station. They didn’t know Ronan had pursued me first. They didn’t know we were fated mates or that we had accepted our bond five years ago. Since then, I had shared his home, his bed, and every private part of his life while he kept my place beside him a secret. Ronan had promised to claim me publicly that very night. Instead, when the room accused me of stealing Chloe’s letter, he stayed silent. All he had to say was, “Sera is my mate.” He wouldn’t do it. Acknowledging me would have destroyed the fantasy he wanted to give Chloe—the fantasy that, if not for one cruel mistake, they might have belonged together. Later, he placed the Luna crown meant for me on her head and shared the ceremonial cup with her. So I removed the moonstone bracelet I had worn for five years and filed to reject our mate bond. Ronan thought I was throwing a tantrum. He was certain I would come home once I cooled off. He kept believing that until his wolf called my name through the bond—and nothing answered.

The day my college acceptance letter arrived, Aiden Corliss said he would pick me up for dinner. "Congrats on getting into college in Kelderwick, Eloise," he said. "Once the semester starts, I'll be out there too, and it'll be just like when we were kids." I believed him. I waited from 3:00 pm until 9:00 pm. The streetlight outside my rented apartment was broken, and I sat alone on the front steps, hugging the acceptance letter. He never showed up. When I opened social media, I found a video my sister, Clarissa Mallory, had posted. Aiden had gone with her to try on her new clothes, and at one point he crouched down to tie her shoelaces. Her caption read: [Good thing someone's always had a soft spot for me.] Underneath, our brother had commented: [Aiden's got me beat as a big brother.] Our mom had written: [As long as Clarissa's smiling, we can rest easy.] I suddenly remembered a year earlier, when Aiden had been the one convincing me to step aside. "Eloise, your grades are great and you can handle anything. Just let Clarissa have this one. Moving out is only temporary. Once she's better, everyone will bring you back home." All that waiting got me nowhere. Nobody replied when my exam scores came out. I ate takeout alone after my summer job, and when my suitcase broke at the start of the school year, no one cared. At 10:00 pm, Aiden finally texted me: [Crazy busy today. I'll make it up to you another time.] I replied: [Don't bother.] Then, I unpinned his chat. When someone was that late, there was no point in them coming at all.

I was the eldest daughter of the Beta. But my parents hid me away. My mother shoved the tray into my hands. She lowered her voice and hissed. "Your wolf is dead," my mother hissed. "You're a disgrace. Stay in the corner. Do the Omega work. Don't embarrass us." My brother, Caleb, frowned at me. "Chloe worked hard for her Silvercrest offer. Nothing can ruin her night. If the other families find out you can't even shift, we'll be a laughingstock." Then there was Julian. My fated mate. The Alpha heir of our pack. His voice was cold and sharp, as always. "Harper, tonight is the most important night of Chloe's life. Be good. Don't cause trouble." Today was the day the academy offers were announced. But my family only held a celebration for my adopted sister, Chloe. I gripped the rough fabric of my uniform. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Was I not good enough already? I was twelve when my wolf first awakened. I showed a rare healing gift. But Chloe lost her mind. She grabbed a silver blade and cried. She threatened to hurt herself. My whole family glared at me. They accused me of showing off. They said I crushed her ego. Since then, I learned to suppress my wolf. I used foul-smelling herbs to mask my scent. For six years, I endured their cold stares. I pretended to be a cripple. A useless wolf who couldn't even shift. But this time was different. The secret trials for the Lycan Healer Academy in the Royal Capital. It was the top school in the North. Every healer's ultimate dream. I watched them crowd around Chloe. Their faces glowed with pride and joy. The news of my acceptance letter died in my throat. Fine. If they thought I was just a useless loser, I didn't need to tell them my plans. In three days, I was leaving the pack. I was flying thousands of miles away to the Royal Capital.

I have a case of acute pancreatitis. I head to the hospital, but the doctors there refuse to treat me. Why? Because my husband is a doctor in the emergency room, and he's instructed everyone not to treat me. In my past life, he would show up with a single phone call. But, after his true love dies in an accident, he pushes the blame on me. On my mother's birthday, he poisons my whole family and repeatedly stabs me with a scalpel. "Does it hurt? Jackie was in much more pain before her death. If not for you, she wouldn't have gone out in my place. You killed her, so I'm making you and your family die for her!" When I open my eyes, I'm back to the day when I get acute pancreatitis after drinking the bar dry for his sake. This time, he runs to Jackie Morse without hesitation. He thinks he's made the right choice, but he later comes to me and grovels at my feet, begging me to take him back.

We couldn't agree on our holiday travel plans, so my boyfriend, Julian Wade, created a three-way group chat. "Let's roll the dice," he said. "Highest number wins. Fair and square." Chloe Dawson, my best friend, rolled a six. She wanted to go to Miami. I wanted to go to Aspen. But I only rolled one. I didn’t pick Aspen on a whim. It was the place my mom had always dreamed of visiting before she passed away. This year marked five years since she died, and I promised I would see the snowy peaks for her. Julian knew that. Just three months ago, he held my hands and promised he would take me there for the holidays. "Fair is fair," Julian texted, dropping a head-patting emoji. It was the twenty-seventh time this year I had rolled the lowest number. I lost when we picked a restaurant last week. I lost when we chose a movie the week before. Then yesterday happened. I used Julian’s tablet to look up some travel guides and noticed his messaging app was still logged in. A chat with his friend sat right at the top. [Sent you the loaded dice plugin. You can roll whatever you want now.] [Thanks. Chloe takes things too seriously, and this is the only way to handle her.] I stared at those two sentences for a long time, then quietly put the tablet back. So he knew what Aspen meant to me. And I wasn’t losing to bad luck. I was losing to his favoritism. I left the group chat, booked a one-way ticket to Aspen, and packed my bags. First day of the holiday. Seven in the morning. Flying solo.

When I catch my wife, Megan Fisher, cheating with my best friend, my severe depression drives me to the rooftop. My best friend, Alan Smith, is so remorseful that he slashes his face with a knife and leaves the country. To put me at ease, Megan puts a tracking device on herself and hands over her phone whenever she comes home. Whenever she leaves the house, even if it's just for five minutes, she will video call me to tell me where she is. That goes on until Megan becomes pregnant for the second time. While I set up Megan's prenatal records at the hospital, I receive a video call from myself—ten years in the future. The man on the screen looks as gaunt as a ghost, making my heart tremble. "Is my illness still not cured yet?" His eyes turn red, and he flips the camera around. In the frame, Megan is standing behind Alan. She is looking at him with eyes that hold suppressed devotion. "You asked me to be a good wife, so I did. But I'll never have his child! That's his punishment for ruining your face." "Megan, have you lost your mind?" Alan yells at her, but tears are streaming down his face. My face turns pale, and my future self lets out an unhinged laugh. "Go ask the nurse and see for yourself just how big a fool you are." Just as he finishes, the nurse says in confusion, "Mr. Sullivan, the system shows that you're single. You said your wife's name is Megan Fisher. She registered here last year, and her husband is listed as Alan Smith."

Before my best friend Scott Hawkins died of cancer, his greatest concern was the online girlfriend he had never met in person. He clutched my hand, tears streaming down his face. "Ian, her depression is severe. I'm afraid losing me might push her over the edge. Can you keep using my account for a while, gradually distance yourself, and end things once she's had time to adjust?" With tears in my eyes, I promised him I would. For the next three years, I pretended to be Scott. I helped her through another depressive episode, supported her as she got her career back on track, and then gradually began distancing myself. Today, I finally decided three years was long enough. She'd had enough time to accept that the relationship was over and move on. So I typed, [We shouldn't talk anymore. It's over,] and hit send. At that exact moment, my fiancée's phone lit up on the coffee table. The breakup message I had just sent appeared on her screen.