Best Friend Melodramatic Short Stories & Novels

I was slow by nature, always a beat behind in matters of love. It was Julian who loved me, who took me exactly as I was, who married me against everyone's objections. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. Until the fifth year of our marriage, when I stumbled onto the secret between Julian and my sister. They'd been carrying on behind my back for a long time. They'd even had the gall to make a baby together. He ruffled my hair, gentle as ever, his voice soft and doting. "I've fallen for your sister. The same way I once fell for you." "You could be generous about it. Accept her. Accept us." Every drop of blood in me seemed to freeze, and the tears wouldn't stop. I didn't scream. I didn't fall apart. I just shut the door and walked away. But Julian was the one who lost his mind. Six months later, when I still assumed the two of them were long since married with a baby, he was the one crying, begging me not to leave, like a dog begging for scraps.

After finishing my meal, I went to the cashier counter to settle the bill as usual. It took me longer than usual because the signal was poor. By the time I settled the bill, I could not find Corbin, my boyfriend, or Mabel, my best friend, anywhere inside or outside the restaurant. I called over a dozen times before they finally answered. “You were taking too long, so we just went ahead. “We’re at the Perler bead craft store on the second floor. Hurry up and get over here. The mall was packed and even more crowded than usual for the holiday. The elevator came twice, and both times it was full. So, I gave up and took the escalator instead. By the time I got to the store, every seat at the craft table was already taken. Corbin and Mabel were sitting together, talking about starting at Northbridge University this September and planning out the next ten years of their lives, from graduate school all the way to their doctorates. It was this grand plan for their future, and I had no place in it. They had already made plans to enroll in prestigious universities as early as May. I, however, failed my PSATs and was still considering repeating a year to catch up. Seeing me standing frozen at the door, Corbin said in a helpless tone, “You’re always so slow. Just wait outside for now.” I watched their backs, and a sudden exhaustion washed over me. “Corbin, I’m done chasing you.”

I'm Roxanne Parker, and I'm currently smashing fire hydrants in a mall while a crowd of onlookers live-streams my rampage online. In less than ten minutes, the news of what I've done skyrockets up the trending topics. The incident catches everyone off guard, and before anyone can intervene, I've already destroyed the fire hydrants on three entire floors within the span of an hour. Once I'm done, I head up to the mall's rooftop to clear my head. When the police surround me, people online and onlookers cheer loudly. I also let out a breath of relief. "You're finally here. I've been waiting for you for a long time." I'm only doing this because, in my previous life, I took the fall for my coworker, Jasmine Powell, and my boyfriend, Callum Fisher. Both of them reported me for stealing gold bars from the bank on the day I was on duty, landing me behind bars. I spent my entire life working myself to the bone, only to have the person closest to me stab me in the back. My parents, Robert Parker and Margot Spencer, had lived their entire lives as law-abiding citizens. Yet, in their twilight years, they were branded as the parents of a criminal, dying with their names dragged through the mud. When the news of their death reached me in prison, I cried until I went blind. The moment I was released, Jasmine and Callum ran me over with a car and took my life. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very day they accuse me of transferring the bank's gold bars. Since they're capable of fabricating evidence to frame me for theft, I'll create an alibi that will rock the entire city.

For the ninth time, my best friend was left at the altar. And for the ninth time, my fiance was dragged in to play the part of her pretend groom. I was holding two cups of coffee. Before I could knock on the dressing room's door, I heard my best friend purring at someone. "You're the best, Anton. You knew this was an act, but you played along anyway." My breath caught. Through the half-open door, I stole a glance inside. My fiance, who had always been cold and unreadable, was looking at my best friend as if she were the most precious thing in his world. "Getting left at the altar must've traumatized you. If I don't help you get over it, Emilia's going to be worried even if she marries me." My best friend tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt. "But this is going to affect your relationship with her." "Not like it's the first time. She's still with me. We're still a couple." My fiance took out a diamond ring and held it against my best friend's finger. "We've been together for ten years. She has no other choice, anyway." The summer heat was scorching, yet part of me felt frozen solid. Slowly, I took my phone out and dialed a certain number. "Hey, I'd like to show you what I look like in that wedding gown."

On June nineteenth—the day my boyfriend and I had planned to get our marriage license—he vanished without a word. It wasn't until that night that I stumbled across a post on his social media. He'd forgotten to block me from seeing it. "From twenty to twenty-eight, our youth: signed, sealed, delivered." The photo attached showed two marriage certificates. In the wedding picture beside it, a girl I didn't recognize leaned into his shoulder, beaming. Furious, I opened the comments to demand an explanation, and found my best friend's message waiting there instead. [Congratulations to the old flames who finally found their way back to each other!] My chest went tight. My hands shook as I called her. After a long silence, she finally told me the truth. "Yeah. They've been together for eight years. Everyone already knew. We didn't hide it to hurt you. We were just scared you'd make a scene. "Alice and Chase were always the better match. It wasn't easy for them to get to where they are today. Why make things hard on another woman? Just be the bigger person." The tears that fell were cold as ice, but where they landed, they burned straight through me. Twelve years together, and for eight of them, Chase Peterson had loved someone else. Everyone had known. They'd just all agreed to keep it from me.

I had stayed up all night to get the merchandise. It was then callously discarded by my boyfriend. On that stormy day, I knelt beside a dumpster and searched through bags of trash. Yarden Scott stopped in his tracks. “What are you looking for?” “My merch.” I did not look up. “I reminded you three times. It was in the left drawer of the sideboard.” His shirt was soaked from the rain. He subconsciously said, “Yvonne’s car broke down. I went to pick her up. I forgot.” He forgot. Last week, he threw away the commemorative ticket stubs I had stayed up all night organizing because he thought they were scraps of paper. The month before, he threw away the brooch my grandmother left me because he thought it was an old button. Every single time, he brushed it off with the same excuse. I gave a mocking smile. “You always remember everything when it comes to Yvonne, don’t you?” Yarden carefully wiped the hair tie Yvonne Jordan had left behind and answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s your best friend. That means I have to treat her very well. “If I keep her happy, our relationship will last. Isn’t it all for your sake?” I watched his practiced movements and felt completely drained. I could not say another word. I had reminded him countless times before not to touch the drawers in my study. He ignored me and threw away my collection of rare stamps. I told him again and again that I was allergic to mangoes. At a group dinner, he still ordered a mango shake for me. But when Yvonne casually mentioned that she had trouble sleeping, he started sending her music to help her sleep every single day. If Yvonne wanted to eat at her favorite restaurant, he would pull every string he could to get a reservation. To him, everything about me was a burden. Everything about Yvonne was worth his time. If that were the case, then I should not bother him any longer.

When I went to return my engagement ring, the jeweler asked me why. Right in front of her, I slid it onto my finger. It caught at the second knuckle and wouldn't go any farther. "You can see for yourself. This isn't my size." The jeweler went pale and offered to resize it on the spot. I shook my head, my voice eerily calm. "You can fix the ring size. You can't fix the shoe size. And you definitely can't fix the wedding dress." Everything about my wedding to Charles Garth was mine in name only — my name was on the invitation as the bride, and that was as far as it went. Every time I asked him to come try on the dress with me, he'd keep his eyes on his laptop and answer without looking up. "I'm busy. I already know your measurements. I gave them to the boutique myself. "Just show up and be the bride. Everything's already handled." But three days before the wedding, what I got was a ring that wouldn't fit and a dress I couldn't wear. The shoes, the gloves, the garter — every single piece was sized for my best friend. Something I'd been holding onto for a long time finally gave out, and it left a hole in my chest. Charles frowned, still trying to talk me into it. "It's just a ceremony. You two are so close — would it really be so bad if Maia stood in for you at the altar?" I didn't say anything. I didn't refuse, either. I just thought — maybe it wouldn't be so bad to swap out the groom instead.

I had a habit. Whenever I had a meal, watched a movie, or took a cab ride, I would always save an empty seat next to me. I believed that Theo Anderson would suddenly appear in the city I lived in to surprise me. However, throughout our long-distance relationship for the past three years, he never visited me. Not even once. I hence prepared our wedding by myself, and I fell sick because of that. My hands were trembling when I sent him a text message. [I’m having a high fever, and I don’t have any medicine at home.] Half an hour later, he responded. [So? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to grow wings and fly over to your place with medicine? I’m still reviewing a proposal. You should just contact the delivery services.] I could not even lift my fingers because of the fever, so I slowly drifted into unconsciousness. When I woke up, I saw my best friend, Eleanor Reid, with teary eyes. She passed a glass of water and a pill to me. “You’re too patient with him, that’s why he’s bullying you. If it were me, I would’ve already thrown a fit.” Two weeks later, Eleanor also had a high fever, so I immediately wanted to rush over to take care of her. However, she posted a photo online, and there was a man’s hand holding a spoon in the photo. [I’m sick, but thankfully there is a knight in shining armor who flew over 500 miles to take care of me.] I recognized that hand. Theo was wearing a watch that I had bought him after saving up for six months. I suddenly understood that it was not because he was busy that he could not be by my side. It was because he did not want to come over. Since that was the case, I no longer had the need to save an empty seat for him anymore.

Before she passed away, my best friend begged me to meet her online boyfriend in person. “Zia, please love him for me. This is my final wish.” I promised her I would. After meeting Greyson in person, we dated for three years before finally getting married. Three years into our marriage, Greyson held my late best friend’s hand and looked at me coldly. “Let’s get a divorce. I won’t hold a grudge against you for stealing Scarlett’s place to meet me.” I stared at them, completely paralyzed by disbelief. “You lied to me... You’re alive…” With tear-brimming eyes, Scarlett said, “Zia, this happiness was supposed to belong to Greyson and me from the very beginning. Please, just let go.” Refusing to give up, I desperately tried to explain the truth to Greyson. But he only sneered at me. “You’re nothing but a thief and a liar.” Driven to the brink of madness, I tried everything to tear them apart. I made scenes at his corporate office, exposed them to the media, and tore up the divorce papers he shoved in my face time after time. But Greyson controlled the media narrative. Under his manipulation, the public branded me a lunatic, a hysteric, and a thief. My love for him was finally stripped away to nothing. When he handed me the divorce papers for the ninety-eighth time, I calmly took the pen and signed my name.

After my song was cut short at karaoke, I found myself back at the song selection machine. I just had to wait for 28 more songs until it would finally be my turn again. The next song was called "The Answer". My boyfriend, John Aldama, and my best friend, Selena Summers, gave each other a look of mild disdain but decided to sing the duet to prevent an awkward silence. Their voices, one cool and one sweet, complemented each other perfectly. Ever since high school, they'd been neck and neck on the honor roll, always vying for first and second place. Even after joining a top-tier company, they'd constantly bicker over projects. Even years after graduation, the people in our high school group chat were still "shipping" their "love-hate dynamic". No matter how hard I tried, I always remained the forgotten third person, an overlooked backdrop. Listening to them sing, I suddenly felt so tired. I no longer felt like singing the song that I had to wait endlessly for. I quietly deleted the song I'd selected and sent a confirmation to the email that asked me to be relocated abroad for work.

Three years ago, my best friend was hit by a car trying to save me. She had been in a coma ever since. I sat by her hospital bed, holding her hand. "Serena, you promised you'd be my maid of honor, remember? Julian and I finally set the date. Please wake up soon, okay? I miss you so much." My choked sobbing was cut short by a phone call. The nurse was asking me to come pay next month's hospital fees. But when I came back, I heard the voice I had been desperately waiting three years to hear. "Julian, you told me to wait for you while you broke things off with her." "I've waited three years for you! She comes to see me every single day, and all I can do is lie here." "Now you two are getting married. What about me!"

In the seventh year of our secret relationship, Alex Timbers became the hero pilot the whole country was talking about. His flight had run into extreme weather. Somehow, on nerve and skill alone, he'd brought the plane down safely. I watched the livestream the whole time, crying so hard I could barely stand. Then, ten minutes later, during an on-site interview at the airport, a three-year-old boy ducked under the barricade and threw himself into Alex's arms, sobbing and calling him Dad. Right behind him came my best friend, Natalie Wilde, her eyes red. In front of the entire country, Alex pulled them both into his arms. Before I could even process it, two more familiar faces appeared on screen. My mother, Susan Healey, hugged Natalie, her voice breaking. "It's over now, Natalie. Alex made it back alive. You and the boy finally have someone to lean on." My father, Dale Healey, clapped Alex on the shoulder, beaming. "Your family of three is whole again. Nothing beats that." In that instant, every drop of blood in my body ran cold. Over the past seven years, I'd had three miscarriages because of Alex. Each time, he'd held me and sworn, eyes red, "Mary, for your reputation, I can't let you have a child out of wedlock. Once I make captain, we'll get married." I laughed until the laughter turned into tears, blurring my vision. It wasn't just Alex. My parents had been standing with them the whole time. I'd been the only one left waiting, seven years, in a place no one could see. I typed out in the livestream's comment section: [Congratulations.]

While taking photos at the tourist attraction, I moved around three or four times to find the best angle. I aimed the camera at my boyfriend, Shawn Jacobson, and called out three times, "Hey, look this way." He seemed unable to hear me. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance instead. Then Nadia Sparks, my best friend, fumbled for her phone and called out to him, "Look at the camera!" He immediately struck a pose and smiled tenderly into her camera. A young couple saw the photos on Nadia's phone and teased her, "Wow, your boyfriend must really love you. You can see it in his eyes!" Nadia's face instantly turned bright red, and Shawn cleared his throat awkwardly. I looked down at my camera and saw that I had only captured a third of his profile. It looked like a paparazzi shot. Ever since we were kids, they had always ignored me. The two of them acted like I never had an opinion. As teenagers, they always excitedly picked where we would go, assuming I'd just follow along. When we grew up, the two of them decided to study medicine. They never bothered to ask what I wanted and signed me up for a medical program too. Later, they became the ER's dream team, while all my hard work only earned me a place as just a nurse. When I looked up, they were already walking side by side toward the next spot for photos. They probably expected me to just follow them, but I turned around and walked in the opposite direction. All this time, I had always stayed one step behind them. But even I had a day when I no longer wanted to follow them.

At the pack celebration, my Alpha boyfriend walked right past me and invited my best friend, Serena, to dance. "You can't dance. I didn't want you making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. If you're tired, go sit over there and get some rest." He spoke words of concern, but they wounded me deeply. He had no idea I'd spent a whole month practicing for tonight's dance, that I'd lost count of how many times I'd fallen, or that my legs were covered in bruises. Before I could protest, the two of them were already gliding across the dance floor. They danced like they'd completely forgotten I existed. This wasn't the first time Nathan had ignored me because of Serena. I didn't make a scene. I just quietly left the banquet hall. That night, I booked my flight ticket and submitted my application to leave the pack. I had once followed him to this distant pack because I loved him. Now that the love was gone, I could just as easily walk away.

I have zero sense of direction. I could visit a place ten times and still get lost. So Paxton Levis spent an entire week hand-drawing every street around our school onto a set of maps. There was no north, south, east, or west on them. Only labels like "the convenience store with the yellow dog out front" and "the old man who sells terrible hot dogs." He'd ruffle my hair and say, "What would you do without me?" That was how it went, until my best friend Patricia Sandler came back from studying abroad. On our graduation trip together, Paxton told me to get out of the car and check whether something was wrong with it. I'd barely gotten both feet on the ground before the car pulled away without me. A message came through from him. Paxton: [There's a rest stop three kilometers up the road. Patricia and I will wait for you there. Patricia is right. If nobody ever pushes you, you're never going to learn your way around.] I walked for an hour through a downpour, working myself into a panic, before Paxton sent me a hand-drawn map. It had arrows on it, and a cute little smiley face doodled in the corner. [Just follow this. Twenty minutes, tops.] But my legs ached with every step, and the route kept drifting further off course, until I ended up in a dead end. I called Paxton. Patricia's bright laugh came through instead. "Congratulations, sweetie, you took a wrong turn! "Paxton and I made a bet on whether you'd figure out he flipped the arrows on purpose. I said you wouldn't. Guess I know you better than he does. "So for the rest of the trip, it's just going to be Paxton and me. Dragging you along is honestly way too much trouble." Paxton's voice came through next to hers, doting and amused. "A bet's a bet. I'll listen to whatever you want." Depending on someone else comes at too high a price. High enough that when he finally walked away, I didn't even know which direction was which anymore. I wiped my eyes. This time, I want to find my own way.

The wolfsbane had reached my bones, and I decided to stop treatment. Once, Ethan Anderson, the pack's Alpha, was the only light in my life. He promised we would travel the continent together, chasing the northern lights across frozen plains and exploring ancient ruins. But while I lay dying from wolfsbane poisoning, he took Murphy Blake, my best friend and the person I trusted most, to every place I had dreamed of seeing. My dreams became the story of how they fell in love. I was ready to let go. I wanted only to see the final place on my list. Then the antidote shattered, my ticket was soaked in blood, and Ethan abandoned me alone in the frozen wilderness. My life entered its final countdown. And there, at the edge of death, I discovered a secret that would change the fate of every werewolf. Ten years later, when the wolfsbane curse that had plagued werewolves for a thousand years was finally broken and everyone called me their savior, Ethan finally understood: He hadn't merely lost a mate who loved him. He had lost the one person who once would have spent her last breath waiting for him to turn back. But by then, I no longer needed his love.

My best friend Summer Woods often made me play the "instant reply game" to test our boyfriends' loyalty. She said you could tell how much a man loved you by how quickly he replied to you. During a meal, less than three seconds after she sent the text, her mysterious boyfriend transferred $800 to pay her bill. I sat there until we finished all the food before I finally received a reply from Cody, which said, "I'm in a meeting." On a certain rainy day, Summer simply texted, "I forgot to bring an umbrella", and ten minutes later, a luxury car was there to pick her up. Meanwhile, I stood drenched in the rain for an hour before Cody finally replied, "Just grab a cab." Summer would poke my head and say, "You're such a fool. You wouldn't even notice if he was cheating on you." More than once, I defended Cody, "He loves me very much. He's just too busy." Then, I'd cling to her arm and whine playfully, "Besides, I have you~" During my bachelorette party, we were drugged at a bar. Summer anxiously took out her phone and said, "Rebecca, I feel bad for you. If he still doesn't show up this time, you should just break up with him." In despair, I sent a distress message to Cody. Ten minutes later, he burst in like a madman. I thought, this time, I'd finally won, but he rushed past me and pulled Summer tightly into his embrace. "Summer, I'm sorry I'm late." I watched him carry my bestie away in shock. It turned out Summer's "mystery boyfriend", who was always there at her beck and call, was none other than my fiancé, Cody Langford.

Once, I posted a photo of Eugene Chapman and me. He stopped me right there on the street, his face cold as he pushed my phone down. "Louisa, I don't like putting my private life online for strangers to gossip about. Delete it. You don't need to be that desperate for attention." People streamed past us as I fought back tears and deleted the post. Only when the photo disappeared did his expression finally soften. He sighed and pulled me into his arms. "Come on. We just need to live our lives. We don't have to post everything online just to prove something to other people." After that, I never posted about him again. For the next three years, there wasn't a single trace of him anywhere on my social media. When my best friend asked if I even had a boyfriend, I laughed it off and told her Eugene was just a private person. Even our wedding invitations for next month only had a scenic photo on the front. Then last night, a pet influencer's video popped up in my recommendations, and Eugene was in it. He had one arm around a girl and was grinning at the camera, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The post had more than ten thousand comments, almost all of them gushing about how cute Eugene and his girlfriend were together. I went through the account, post by post. The first video of him went up just eight months after Eugene and I started dating. The girl's pinned comment read, [He insists on filming us every single day. It's so annoying.] So Eugene never hated having his life all over social media. He just hated having me in it. I closed the app and texted the wedding planner. [The wedding is canceled.]

On our eighteenth attempt to get married, Miles Corbett stopped the ceremony again because I began my vow a fraction too late. He looked completely disappointed in me. "You know I'm a perfectionist. Why can't you follow the wedding schedule exactly? "If you miss the timing again, maybe you should let your best friend take your place." My best friend, Audrey Sloan, was famous for always being perfectly on time, so Miles used her as the standard I was expected to match. If I reached the curb one minute after Audrey at the end of the workday, he drove away with her and left me behind. If I entered the restaurant half a step later than she did on Valentine's Day, he gave her the candlelit dinner that was supposed to be mine. If I reached the airport twenty seconds after her before our annual vacation, he canceled my ticket and traveled with Audrey instead. Even at our wedding, he had stopped the ceremony seventeen times and used Audrey to rehearse my role seventeen times. To make the eighteenth attempt succeed, I filled the venue with more than a hundred synchronized countdown clocks and practiced every cue for over two hundred nights. But ten seconds before my vow was due, Audrey jumped the cue and said "I do" first. Miles ignored both me and the synchronized clocks and canceled the wedding for the eighteenth time. The problem had never been my timing; the problem was that the bride was not her. So I finally decided to give his perfectionism what it wanted. Miles took Audrey's hand again. "Watch carefully. We'll demonstrate it one more time." I smiled and slid the wedding rings onto their fingers. "No demonstration needed. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

During our beach vacation, my wife, Carla Locke, lets her guy best friend, Alex Dugan, rub sunscreen all over her. "What have you been eating lately? Feels like you've gone up a cup size." The moment I see Alex's hand lingering on Carla's chest, the drink slips from my hand and shatters on the ground. Carla gets upset and tells me off for being so insecure. "We're just messing around. Why do you always overthink everything?" Alex shoots me a challenging look. "Don't be upset, Hubert. Carla and I are just friends. Sometimes, I wish I'd been born a woman. Then, people wouldn't keep misunderstanding our relationship." Carla leans into his embrace and shakes her head as she looks at me. "I wish you'd stop being so sensitive about this. Stop trying to ruin our friendship." However, Carla and Alex don't know that I'm from another world. After completing my mission in the previous world, the system rewards me with one wish. Since they insist they're just best friends, I'll be more than happy to grant his wish to become a woman.