เรื่องสั้นแนว Tragic Love และนิยาย Bias Family Emotions

"Moon Goddess, I'd like to go home," says Seraphina Jarett. The Will of the Moon Goddess speaks to her in her mind. She doesn't reply in any form of language. Instead, it is a calm and saddened torrent of consciousness. "Alright, my child. Your mission is about to be completed. In a week, your soul can leave this place." The usually authoritative voice pauses for a few seconds, which is a rare occurrence. Unable to understand my choice, she says, "My child, you have a mate who loves you deeply and sees you as the light of his life. Your pup puts you first in everything. Isn't this your home now? They are your family… your pack." When Seraphina hears the word "family", her gaze lands on the Moon Pool that is in the middle of the room. At the moment, the pool is showing the Alpha of the Blackwood pack, Caelum Blackwood, and his son, Liam Blackwood, touching down in the pack's private airport.

During a family gathering, my daughter drove her rideable toy car straight into me and shattered my leg because she wanted to stand up for her live-in manny, Wilson Smith. As I lay on the ground in agony, she glared at me and said, "You're not my dad! Wilson takes care of me. He's kind to me. Mom and I both like him!" From where I had fallen, I looked up and saw Wilson standing at the center of the crowd, surrounded by smiles and admiration. At that moment, a bitter realization settled over me. I mattered less than a manny to my own family. I soon filed for divorce. Then, I signed up for a community revitalization initiative and spent the next twenty years helping struggling communities build better lives. My family did not need me, but somewhere else in the world, there were people who did.

After six months overseas, I had finally secured a hundred billion contract with a partner in Aurelune. I returned to the home my fiancee, Rebecca Holden, and I had bought for our married life, only for the smart lock to keep repeating, “Unrecognized visitor. Please step away.” After ten failed attempts to recognize my face, the system automatically alerted security. A security guard struck the back of my knee with his baton. Pain shot through my leg as I crumpled to the ground. Through gritted teeth, I explained that this was my home. The guard looked me up and down before he scoffed and said, “You can’t even get through the front door! How do you have the nerve to pass yourself off as Ms. Holden’s husband? “Everyone knows she’s head over heels for Mr. McGraw. She picks him up and drops him off every day. She showers him with sports cars and luxury watches. As if her husband would look as broke as you do!” His words knocked the wind out of me. For a moment, I could only stare at him. Then, I saw my childhood friend, Kirk McGraw, step out of the passenger seat of a luxury car that had just pulled up. Rebecca got out with his suit jacket draped over her shoulders. She lifted his son out of the back seat. The front door slid open automatically as Kirk approached. An electronic voice announced, “Door unlocked. Welcome home, Mr. McGraw.”

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.

At my engagement party, my fiancé and my parents had prepared a table filled with mystery boxes. My younger sister, Elena Hayes, wrapped her arms around my fiancé, Adrian Whitmore, and sweetly pleaded, “There are so many mystery boxes. Madison can’t possibly open them all. Can I pick three too?” Adrian affectionately ruffled Elena’s hair. “You never change. You’ve known your sister and me for so long, yet you still act like a child.” Our parents, Charles and Victoria Hayes, smiled indulgently. “Our Elena has always been lucky. Maybe she’ll win something amazing.” Elena eagerly grabbed three mystery boxes before anyone else could stop her. She opened the first one. “A ten-day honeymoon trip to Valehaven.” The second one. “All the cash gifts from Madison’s wedding.” And the third. “The Whitmore family’s heirloom emerald bracelet.” When I opened my own mystery boxes, every single card contained the same message: “Better luck next time.” Elena draped an arm around my shoulders with a smug smile. “Looks like you’re still as unlucky as ever, Madison. “A bet’s a bet! I’m going to Valehaven with your fiancé instead. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I won’t let some pretty girl from overseas steal him away.” I stood frozen, convinced they were playing some cruel joke on me. Then Adrian spoke. “Madison, a bet’s a bet. “Take off the bracelet Grandma gave you and give it to Elena.”

A great white shark appeared during our holiday to the beach. My wife, Eunice Fuller, was a marine animal trainer. She deliberately cut our daughter Violet’s finger and used her blood to lure the shark away. She did that to save her first love’s son. By the time I arrived, the surrounding water had turned red with blood. I called Eunice and demanded an explanation. All I got was an impatient outburst. “For God’s sake, the rescue team’s already there! What more do you want? I taught her how to swim. What’s so wrong if I told her to hold off the shark for a little while?” I stared at Violet’s mangled body. My eyes were bloodshot with fury. I should have ended this marriage long ago. I would make every last one of them pay for this.

My grandparents, Timothy Shaw and Dorothy Elmer, show up one day to ask for 30 thousand dollars. In response, my wife, Jade Quinn, shuts the door in my face. She refuses to discuss the topic of a loan or open the door for anyone. All she does is send me a text message that reads, "I earn a fixed salary. How could I possibly come up with 30 thousand dollars on the fly? Don't you have other colleagues and classmates? Just ask them for a loan." I mull over the message as my hand hovers over the study door's knob. Through a crack in the door, I can see her on a video call with a male student named Nicholas Dion. She says to him, "Nicky, I've transferred 200 thousand dollars to your bank account. It's not safe for a young man like you to live in a rented place off-campus. Consider the money a gift from me for you to use as a down payment." My hand freezes in midair, trembling slightly. Just then, the door is opened, and Jade sees me standing outside the door. She offers no explanation and shows no sign of guilt. She simply explains unhurriedly, "I married you and not your entire family, so I'm not letting just anyone mooch off of me. I worked hard to earn my money too." She closes the door in my face. She was a mere inch away from catching my hand in the doorframe, but she showed no hesitation. I clench my hands into fists, understanding abruptly dawning on me. It turns out that our marriage is worth less than 30 thousand dollars to her.

The day before the list of names for guaranteed university admission was announced, a synced note I shared with Bryce Joller for three years suddenly showed a reminder: [Operation: Save Lara Lane] I stared at it for a long moment before tapping on it. [1st: Give Nelly Seagel's spot to Lara.] [2nd: Go to the city where Lara's university is, take care of her, and let her join Joller Group when she graduates.] [3rd: After witnessing Lara get married, marry Nelly.] I stared at those three lines for a long time, unable to believe it. Bryce hated homewreckers the most because his mother was driven to death by one. Thus, over the years, he stayed up late studying with me, shielded me from my classmates’ taunts, and even used the Joller family name he hated most to stand up for me when my stepmother, Marissa York, kicked me out of the house. He supported me through countless nights when I could not hold on anymore. "Nelly, don't you dare break down. As long as I'm here, you're not allowed to give up!" Only now did I realize that Bryce had already chosen someone else to save somewhere along the way.

Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in. My son was three. Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help. If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child. The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me. He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party. When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe." The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my name from Dixie to Estelle. But Vera snatched the phone and laughed so hard she could barely get the words out. "Estelle, seriously? If you're gonna make something up, at least make it believable. You look so broke you probably don't even have fifty bucks. What kidnapper would pick you?" The third time, I called Luca's father, my legal husband. He said he was in a meeting and didn't have time to play games with me. He also said that if I behaved myself, he'd agree to take me home for dinner next week. After the final call ended, I looked at the grinning kidnapper in despair and sent the last two messages of my life. A photo of myself covered in blood. And a short message, every word sincere. [I'm really going to die. In my next life, don't bring me home.]

During a team-building event, we are playing King's Game, a game where anyone who draws the King card gets to order another player around. The company's new intern, Daniel Zugler, draws the King card. His eyes narrow as he sweeps a glance across everyone present. At last, his gaze lands on my fiancee, Sharon Solt. "Then how about… Sharon, feed me a grape using your mouth." There is an immediate uproar, with people slamming their hands on the table, wolf-whistling, or even holding their phones up in preparation to record the moment. Their loud jeering is almost deafening. I initially think that Sharon will refuse coldly, yet to my surprise, she actually blushes and playfully scolds them, "You guys are seriously too much!" Following that, she plucks a grape from the fruit platter, bites it gently between her teeth, then leans closer to Daniel. Daniel smoothly wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings his lips close to hers, almost brushing against them. However, his eyes aren't focused on her. Instead, he gazes past her to shoot me a provocative look. I immediately jump to my feet, my hand snapping out to seize her wrist. Silence descends upon the room at my action. Yet, Sharon yanks her arm out of my grip. "It's just a game. Why are you making such a huge deal about it? Danny's new here, and this is his first team-building event with us. Are you trying to make things difficult for him and humiliate him?" Subsequently, I don't bother stopping them again, allowing their lips and teeth to clash together. That night, after we return home, the phone she left on the coffee table suddenly vibrates. A WhatsApp message appears on the screen, sent from someone she saved as "Sunshine" in her contacts. "Sharon, the grape was quite sweet. Are you going to feed me again next time?" I lock her phone screen and don't ask any questions. One week later, Sharon goes on a work trip and has to bring an assistant with her. She chooses Daniel, who has zero experience. Still, I say nothing, but I do hand in my resignation letter to the HR department. This time, I won't look back again.

My daughter and my husband’s godson were diagnosed with acute leukemia at the same time. The doctors said a banked cord-blood unit could save a life. His foster sister, Rebecca Sloan, knelt in front of me with her son in her arms and begged until her voice gave out. “Claire, please, let Leo have the cord blood. His father died right after he was born and I never banked any of my own. Have some pity on the two of us. “Leo is the only child I have. I’m begging you. Save him.” I refused outright. I was not going to gamble with my daughter’s life. Then, on the morning of my daughter’s treatment, my husband, Ethan Hale hit me with his car and left me critically injured. The wheels went over my thigh and back again. The pain nearly took me under. He stood over me while I struggled in the blood on the pavement, and I couldn’t read anything in his eyes. “Claire, I’m sorry. For Leo’s sake, this is the only thing I can do. “You shouldn’t have fought Rebecca over the cord blood. Leo is far sicker than our daughter. If anyone gets saved first, it should be him.” They rushed me into surgery. He turned around, took the cord blood, and gave it to Rebecca’s son. By the time I woke up in my room, the only thing waiting for me was my daughter’s death certificate.

After my dad's first love moved into our house and became my tutor, my mom never raised her voice at her again. She just coughed worse and worse, until one day I found the lab report she'd thrown out. Stage IV lung cancer. That afternoon, Dad came home with his arm around her, and walked right into Mom sitting on the couch. There was a flicker of guilt on his face. "Helena, if you've got something to say, just say it. Don't make a scene in front of the kid." Mom was eerily calm. She pointed at the woman and said, "She gets on her knees and apologizes to me three times. And you sign over half the company. Then we're done." Dad thought she'd lost it. But in the end he signed the share transfer. After that, Mom's pills kept multiplying and her appetite kept shrinking. But she hired the best lawyer in town, and over and over she taught me how to manage those shares once I was old enough. Dad never figured out the one thing that mattered. Mom was already on her way out.

My husband was praised by my friends as the perfect husband in the world. Everyone said he loved me to death and practically put me on a pedestal. Then came my prenatal checkup. My older cousin, Catherina Bow, called him with a farewell message before attempting suicide. Without hesitation, he abandoned me and rushed off in panic. I was six months pregnant at that time. My mother expected me to be the bigger person and “lend” my husband to Catherina, who was depressed. My brother snapped at me, "The only reason you’re still in this house is because Catherina spoke up for you. Whatever she wants, you should give it to her!" I found it absurd. I was supposed to be their family. She was nothing but a cuckoo in my nest. When I finally decided to walk away from all of them, they regretted their actions.

After spending three years in a coma following a car accident, I finally woke up. Ever since then, everyone treated me with caution. They were so afraid of something happening to me again that they'd even worked out a schedule to make sure I was never left alone. Each morning, my younger sister, Jemma Cobb, helped me exercise and regain my strength. In the afternoon, my childhood best friend, Kian Mason, kept me entertained with video games. My parents cooked huge dinners to help me recover, while my girlfriend, Elsie Reid, picked me up afterward and drove me home. One night, as Elsie and I lay in bed, I wrapped my arms around her and laughed. "You guys don't have to worry about me so much. I'm a grown man, you know. I promise I'll take good care of myself." But Elsie shook her head, her expression unusually serious. "Kellan, you mean everything to us. We can't bear the thought of losing you again." Her words made me emotional. After everything I'd been through, I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have so many people who loved and cared about me. At least, that was what I thought until the day I accidentally discovered a group chat on Kian's phone. Everyone was involved—my parents, my sister, my best friend, and even my girlfriend. Everyone but me. The group was called "Save Elsie's Love Life." The latest message was from Kian. "Kellan and I just got to the arcade. You're good to bring Jude home now." Confused, I scrolled up and found a message from my sister. Jemma said, "I've got Kellan at the park near our neighborhood. Elsie, don't bring Jude here for breakfast today." Then, I saw one from my parents. "Kellan's finished dinner. Drop Jude off first, then come pick him up." My fingers went numb as I stared at the screen. I tapped on the profile picture of the group member named Jude Johnston, and my blood ran cold. I recognized him immediately. He was the man responsible for the accident that had left me in a coma for three years. Now, he was dating my girlfriend. Worse still, everyone I'd trusted—everyone who'd claimed to love and protect me—had been helping them keep their relationship a secret all along.

My mistress tries to take Scarlett Astin's place as my wife, so I kill her, burn her body to ashes, and bury her in the middle of nowhere. Five years later, I become a general manager. Scarlett gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl, and we settle into a happy life together. I gradually forget about the past. Then, after Scarlett is discharged from the hospital, she suddenly says, "Don't forget to invite Madeline Brown to the twins' sip and see. She's an old friend of yours, right? She took such good care of me during my hospital stay." A chill ran through me, and the hair on my arms stood on end. Madeline Brown is the name of my dead mistress.

My whole family could hear my thoughts. Twenty years after I was abducted, I finally reunited with my family. However, they used the thoughts they could hear to find out my bank account's passwords and PIN codes, all so that they could steal my savings. When they knew I was being stalked by a pervert, they offered me up on a silver platter just for the money he provided. I ended up getting locked up by the pervert and tormented to my death. When I opened my eyes once more, I found myself back to the day when it all began. I was going rabid deep down. 'Did Mom not use all of my money to support Mr. Warner next door?' 'Should I tell Mom and Dad that Alex is actually gambling instead of going to work?' 'I think Dad is attracted to Alex's girlfriend. What do I do?' This time, I want to see them turn against each other and reap the consequences of their own actions.

My son and daughter-in-law suddenly returned home after living abroad for more than a decade. They spoke with my granddaughter in Datrenan the entire time during dinner. My granddaughter said, "Dad, Grandma's ugly and dumb. She's embarrassing!" My son just laughed. "What can we do? Country people are like that." I didn't understand what they were talking about, so I simply smiled and placed a chicken wing into my granddaughter's bowl, trying to please her. However, she threw it in my face instead. "Gross! It's all your fault that Grandpa and Kasey can't be here!" I was stunned. My husband died decades ago, and… who was Kasey?

The day I got laid off, I called my girlfriend, Juliet Sidwell. No answer. I rode my e-scooter home through the rain and stumbled into my apartment soaked, a cardboard box in my arms. The place was packed. Family. Friends. Relatives. And right in the middle of it all stood Juliet and my friend Paul Bartel, raising their glasses to my parents. The second I walked in, the whole room went silent. My box hit the floor. Everything spilled everywhere. Juliet walked over, calm as ever. "Why are you here?" I just stared at her. "What the hell is going on?" Something flickered in her eyes. "Paul and I got legally married last year. The wedding's today." My ears rang. Then I slapped her. Hard. "Get out! Both of you! This is my home! Everybody, get out!" One of my friends shoved me back. Everyone crowded around Juliet and Paul, glaring at me. "You hit her!" "Exactly! We kept it from you because we knew you'd lose it. Juliet would've dumped you ages ago otherwise!" Then my parents stepped in. They looked at me like I'd ruined everything. "This isn't your apartment anymore. We gave it to Paul." "It's their wedding day. Stop causing a scene and go to your room." Just like that, my whole body went cold.

The day I got laid off, I called my boyfriend, but he never picked up. I rode home on my electric scooter in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, clutching a cardboard box as I awkwardly pushed open the front door. The house was packed. My family, relatives, and friends were all there. In the middle of the room, my boyfriend and my best friend stood before my parents, accepting their congratulations as the newlyweds. The moment I appeared, the lively room fell deathly silent. The cardboard box slipped from my hands, scattering its contents across the floor. Zane Ward walked toward me, looking at me calmly. "What are you doing here?" I stared at him, my voice trembling as I demanded an answer. "What… What are you doing?" His expression was complicated, but he finally let out a long sigh. "Sophia and I got married last year. We're just having the wedding ceremony today." A roar filled my ears. Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. "Get out! Both of you, get out! This is my house! All of you, get out!" The next second, one of my friends shoved me outside. They shielded the newlyweds behind them. "How could you hit him?" "Exactly. We only kept it from you because we were afraid you'd be hurt. Otherwise, Zane would have broken up with you a long time ago!" Amid the chaotic shouting, my parents walked over to me, disappointment written across their faces. "This house doesn't belong to you. We gave it to Sophia as their new home." "Today is their wedding day. Don't make a scene. Just go back to your room." The blood in my veins seemed to freeze. Five years together. Three years living under the same roof. My boyfriend had become my best friend's legal husband. My parents had secretly given them a home to start their married life. Every relative and friend had gathered to wish them well. And there I stood, like some pathetic fool, making a spectacle of myself.

When I was five months pregnant, Greg had missed four months of prenatal checkups because of his highschool sweetheart, Chloe. Now, on the fifth one, he stood me up yet again. Over the phone, his voice sounded cold and irritated. “The baby isn’t just mine, you know. Why can’t you step up as a mother and do a little more? Is the kid going to die without me there?“ I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the hospital waiting room TV, which showed a live broadcast of him smiling tenderly at Chloe. “Okay,“ I whispered. Greg must have noticed something off about my tone because he started to say something else, but I hung up before he could. Right then, the nurse, who had just gossiped about the news, specifically about how Greg had just spent a fortune hosting a massive fireworks display for Chloe, walked over to me. “Ma’am, please head this way for your prenatal checkup,“ she said. I shook my head, my voice calm. “No need. Please schedule me for an abortion next week instead.