Bias Tragic Love Short Stories & Novels

The seventh time Nora Hayes writes the wrong name on the marriage registration form, the clerk finally snaps. "Ma'am, your fiance's name is Nathan Reed, not Ryan Bennett." Nora freezes. She quickly apologizes, takes a fresh form, and starts over for the eighth time. I sit in the waiting area with my arm in a cast, watching her fill it out again. A few minutes later, the eighth form ends up in the trash, too. After being stabbed in the same wound so many times, I have reached the point where I can barely feel the pain anymore. Maybe I should have seen it coming. Our refrigerator is covered with magnets listing Ryan's food preferences. "No onions. Nothing too strong. No spicy food." Even the top suggestion in Nora's navigation app leads straight to Ryan's apartment. And when we meet with the wedding planner, she keeps repeating the same things. "Ryan likes champagne gold. He wants an outdoor wedding on a lawn." The planner eventually pulls me aside, clearly confused. "Mr. Reed, aren't you the groom? Then who is Ryan?" I give her an awkward smile, too embarrassed to explain. Ryan is my best friend. Somehow, without either of us ever saying it out loud, he has slowly taken my place. And now, as Nora prepares to marry me, she can't even remember my name.

I'm the neglected real son of the Duncans, Austin Duncan. By the time my family finally brings me home, the fake heir, Edward Duncan, has already been carefully groomed into the perfect successor. I'm nothing more than a country bumpkin. Edward goes through with a prestigious arranged marriage and becomes the son-in-law of the powerful Cooper family. As for me, I'm unceremoniously married off to Clara Prescott, the illegitimate daughter of the Prescott family, whom no one acknowledges. Everyone looks at me with contempt. I assume Clara is no different. But she smiles at me and says, "Austin, we aren't free to choose for the first half of our lives. But I'll protect you from now on." I truly believe she's different. But when she emerges victorious in the Prescott family's power struggle and becomes the CEO of Prescott Group, the very first thing she does after taking control is force the Cooper family into bankruptcy and bring Edward back to her side. Only then do I finally realize that Clara is no different. The one she loves has always been Edward.

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.

On the day I get discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my wife, Lisseth Gabler, speaks up all of a sudden. "When your mom was struck and killed by Donny's car, I was the one who hired a lawyer to defend him." My dad—the most elite doctor in the city—is still driving as he adds coolly, "I was the one who personally forged your mental illness records." Throughout the three-year torture I've received in the psychiatric hospital, I keep recalling the tragic way my mom died when she was struck by Donny Kaufman's car all the time. Meanwhile, my own wife chooses to defend him, whereas my own father has me admitted into a psychiatric hospital. I do my best not to collapse from the sheer shock. In a quivering tone, I ask, "Why?" Dad averts his gaze. Lisseth is the one who answers my question nonchalantly. "It's simple. You have everything. It's pitiful enough for Donny to be labelled as the illegitimate son. Now, I'm giving you two choices. Either patch things up with Donny, or stay in the psychiatric hospital for the rest of your life."

I had been trying to court Liam Castle for five years. The only thing I needed for the system to declare my mission a success was to obtain the marriage license. I was so close, but Liam had cancelled our marriage registration for the ninth time. "Friday? I can't do Friday. I have to meet Nora's parents." Liam continued to explain disinterestedly, "Her parents have been grilling her to get a boyfriend, so I have to pretend to be her boyfriend so they'll let it rest. Why don't you ask the system for another month's extension? "Just tell the system you'll trade one month of your future lifespan for the extension, as you've always done. "We'll get married after I help deal with Nora's parents." He had always been aware of the system as well as the procedures for extending the deadline. What he did not know was that if I failed the mission, I only had ten months left to live. Now that he had extended it nine times, I was only one more extension from death. I decided I was done waiting for him. With that, I asked the system, "System, I remember you told me that, besides extending the deadline, I can also switch to a different target… "In that case, could I change the target?"

On the day of our graduation trip, my girlfriend suddenly went silent for half an hour. I didn't hear from her until just before I went through security. "Nicholas, you go ahead and board. Blake and I got upgraded to first class at the last minute. You know his back isn't great. He'll be uncomfortable in economy." Blake Walker was my younger brother in name, and every trip was the same. Whether we flew or took the train, Tiffany Spencer always made sure he got a first-class or business-class seat, while I was left squeezed into economy or a regular train seat. Even our carefully planned trip to the northern coast had been changed to a beach resort in the south simply because Blake casually mentioned that he liked the ocean. After two hours in economy, my back was aching badly, so I finally texted Tiffany. [I want to sit with you two.] Her reply was cold. Tiffany: [We'll be there in another hour. First class is expensive. Don't waste the money.] When we landed, the two of them were nowhere to be found. Tiffany explained over the phone. "Blake's hungry. I'm going to grab something to eat with him first. Come over once you've gotten everything sorted out." Then she told me to book the return flights. "Book our return flights. Two first-class tickets and one economy ticket. Don't forget." I tightened my grip on my phone and quietly said, "Okay." Then I bought three tickets. Two first-class tickets were bound for Kensford, while the third was bound for Aldmere, Loravia.

The first time Silvia Robinson undergoes ECT, she is all alone. Even Gregory Fisher, her fiance who loves her so much, is nowhere to be seen. After the doctor gives her a muscle relaxant, she starts to get drowsy. She is in a daze when she recalls what happened that evening. She has waited three hours in line for a special cake, which she is planning to surprise Gregory with. However, she comes home to see Gregory kissing her younger sister, Ella Robinson. The two are deep in a kiss as they hold each other tightly in an inseparable embrace. The cake in Silvia's hands drops to the floor, smashed beyond recognition as Silvia delivers a slap across Gregory's face. Then, she finds herself being pushed down the stairs by Ella. As she rolls down the stairs, Silvia feels like she has already seen this coming. Anyone close to her will eventually be taken away by her sister.

My wife's first love broke into our home and killed me. Yet my wife, one of the world's top defense attorneys, stood in court to secure his acquittal. She insisted that the entire incident was nothing more than an act I had staged myself—a desperate attempt to win her attention. She even appeared at my funeral. Pointing at my coffin with open disgust, she sneered, "You'd stoop this low just to get my sympathy? Stop pretending and come out right now to apologize to Marvin."

At the Sweethearts' Light Festival, I head to Truelove Bridge to film vlog footage for my wedding next month. But through the camera's viewfinder, I spot my younger sister, Mona Jensen. Standing right beside her is my fiance, Weston Shaw—who is supposed to be working overtime at the office tonight. As Mona browses a vendor's stall, the strap of her bag slips off her shoulder. Weston catches it almost on instinct and casually slings it over his own shoulder. The glittery, sequined bag, covered in plush charms, looks absurdly out of place against his tailored dark gray suit. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Yet, the bag remains on his shoulder. People stream past them down the crowded street, but he makes no move to hand it back. When Mona finishes picking something out and reaches for the bag, he turns aside, keeping it out of her reach. He says something, and they both laugh. I remember our first date after we make things official. I ask him to hold my bag, which has a plush doll dangling from it. He holds it by the very edge of the strap with one hand. The instant I hang up and turn around, he shoves it right back into my hands. "That thing hanging off your bag doesn't go with my clothes," he says flatly as the tips of his ears turn bright red. I notice a few passersby shooting looks our way and even teasing him about it. Once I realize he really doesn't like it, I never ask him to carry my bag again. Back in the viewfinder, the two of them haven't moved, but everything has blurred into streaks. A voice comes over the bridge speakers. "May all lovers end up together." I stop the recording, my fingertips turning ice-cold and numb. I'm not going to be part of this ending.

The night the Famiglia is attacked, Luca Gambino abandons me, who is severely wounded, and turns to protect another woman instead. "Wait here. Carmela was grazed by a stray bullet. I need to get her to safety first." I press the wound on my stomach, but the bleeding just won't stop. "But I was shot too!" Luca sighs and says, "Elena Pasquini, you are my fiancee. You need to think of the Famiglia as well. If the rest of the Famiglia learns that I abandoned my comrades in the middle of an attack just to save you, who else will still be willing to risk their lives for me next time?" With that, he escorts Carmela—who has only suffered from a tiny scratch—off to safety and disappears into the night. Just before my blood runs dry, I yank off the necklace symbolizing my Donna status from my neck and throw it into the pool of blood beneath me. I no longer want a man who will always only put Famiglia loyalty before me.

On the third day since we stopped speaking to each other, my fated mate, Eric Dunn, approves the mine acquisition plan his childhood sweetheart and secretary, Irina Porter, brings to him. However, that ore deposit is long depleted, so purchasing it is bound to incur losses. He assumes that I will rush into his office and force him to rescind his order, just like I have in the past. Yet, I do nothing even after he returns from checking out the mine, one week later. That is the first time in months that he gives me an approving look. But in the next second, he tells me to hand my purchasing authority as the pack's Luna over to Irina. He thinks that that will be the final straw that breaks the camel's back, that I will lose it completely. However, not only do I keep my calm as I tidy up all the documents into a neat bundle, but I even enthusiastically hand over the tasks to Irina. In fact, even when Eric put all the foreign trade deals I negotiated with the other packs under Irina's name, all so he could push the Council of Elders to appoint Irina as Beta, I don't make a single sound of protest. Irina smiles smugly as she says to him, "See? I told you long before, didn't I? You shouldn't go head-to-head with Freya. When it comes to people like her, ignoring her is the way to go. Once enough time has passed, she'll naturally submit to you. The cold shoulder you've been giving her the past few days has made her afraid of losing you. That's why she's being so cooperative now." Eric believes every word out of her mouth, not doubting a single thing. He even praises her publicly for coming up with such a brilliant plan. That night, Eric wraps his arms around me and kisses the corner of my mouth. He promises to restore all of my authority as the pack's Luna, not just the acquisition rights. Besides that, he even does something he's never done before—he agrees to give me the marking ceremony I've been dreaming of for ages. This is the first time he's shown me any affection after believing in Irina's theories about love. He stares at me expectantly, thinking that I will be so touched that I cry. Yet, I keep silent. Seven days ago, Eric was so worried that I would change my mind that he signed Irina's ridiculous acquisition proposal without even looking carefully. Among those papers was actually a mate bond termination contract that I slipped in. However, he's still unaware of it.

At my father-in-law's funeral, my wife's lover took the son-in-law's seat in the family pew, holding his three-year-old daughter, the two of them wearing the family's mourning ribbons. I was left standing off to the side. Vanessa lowered her voice and tried to reason with me. "Dad's funeral matters. You've always known when to be sensible. Making a scene won't do you any good. "Damon gave me my only child. He's earned the right to sit up front as a son-in-law." Then Damon leaned in close enough that only I could hear him. "You've got some nerve. Our wife just humiliated you in front of everyone, and you're still standing here. "After my daughter and I take that seat today, everyone in Crownridge will know me as the Carlisle son-in-law. You won't even register. Let's see how long you last." My mother-in-law had her turn too. "You can't blame anyone but yourself. Ten years married to Vanessa and you never gave her a child." I beckoned to my two five-year-old sons waiting near the back. "Come here. Take your places up front as your grandfather's grandsons and say goodbye to him." They wanted children? Who said I didn't have any?

My mother was critically ill, and I drove five hundred miles back to my hometown alone. At a rest stop, I saw a video online. A young man had posted: "First day driving long-distance as a nervous beginner. My ex followed me for three hundred miles, all the way until I got home safely." In the video, a familiar black Mercedes followed a white car the entire way. The top comment came from a burner account: "I'm the driver's ex. No other meaning. I just couldn't stop worrying. "He's timid, but always tries to act brave. I was afraid something would happen to him. "Please don't overthink it. Don't bother him. I'll feel bad." The internet exploded. "What kind of once-in-a-lifetime devoted ex is this? Get back together already!" I stared at that Mercedes. The plate number was GB-8860V. It was my fiancee Vanessa Tomlinson's car. That morning, she had canceled the plan to drive home with me. She said her company had an emergency project and she could not get away. I had sent her dozens of messages, and she had not replied to a single one. Yet she had time to escort the man she never truly let go of for three hundred miles. My phone buzzed. Vanessa had finally texted me: "Is the interstate jammed? Drive safe."

Felix Hoffman's childhood sweetheart, Mia Langley, insists on dragging us to an abandoned castle for an adventure. "Felix, you'll be someone else's husband soon. Can't you grant me this wish?" Felix can never bring himself to say no to her, so he agrees for us to go with Mia. But a fire accidentally starts in the castle, and only two people can fit through the escape passage. Felix immediately scoops Mia, who has sprained her ankle, into his arms and rushes out. I grab the hem of his shirt. "Felix, I'm carrying your pup. Can you bring me to safety first?" My plea doesn't make him relent. Instead, his anger surges. "Why did you only remember you're pregnant now? Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch? Mia is hurt. I must bring her out immediately. It's too dangerous here. Hurry up. I'll wait for you outside." Felix throws a wet blanket at me and leaves without hesitation. But what he doesn't know is that the blanket has been soaked in alcohol. I'm trapped in the fire and die here, along with the pup inside me.

After six years together, Isabella McCarthy proposed to Gabriel Hart six times. He accepted all six. But when she proposed for the seventh time, he didn't immediately offer his hand. She looked up at him with sincere eyes, wisps of black hair falling across her forehead as the lights gilded the fine contours of her face. Gabriel looked at her and suddenly gave a sardonic smile. "Does this proposal actually count?"

Victoria Cooper cheated on me with my student. I caught them in my office, locked in a kiss they couldn't seem to break away from. I took photos and posted them online, making sure the whole world knew. When I asked for a divorce, Victoria dropped to her knees in front of me, sobbing. "Alexander, I made a mistake. The lights were off in the office. I thought it was you. "Please, forgive me?" To prove it had been a case of mistaken identity, she put Tyler Ford on a plane and cut off all contact with him for good. After she came back to me, she was nothing but obedient. Out in the world, she was the sharp, no-nonsense CEO everyone knew as Ms. Cooper; at home, she poured her whole heart out to me. I thought the crack between us had actually healed. Then, five years later, I stumbled into the deleted-messages folder on her phone. One thousand three hundred and sixty unread texts, every single one from Tyler. [Victoria, I miss you so much. Can I come back and see you?] She'd never replied to a single one. But she'd saved every message, filed away by date, in that folder no one was ever supposed to find. My blood ran cold. I set the phone down in front of her. My voice didn't sound like my own anymore. "Do you need me to step aside? So you two star-crossed lovers can finally have your happy ending?"

My mom's dying of cancer, and her final wish is to see me settle down and start a family. I beg my girlfriend, Yvonne Hurst, and my childhood friend, Colin Lowell, to help me put on this act for Mom. After asking them 88 times, they finally agree to play along and help me fulfill her last wish. On the day of the wedding, Mom clings to the last of her strength, waiting until the very end for the bride and best man to arrive. But they never do. Instead, Colin posts a photo online. Yvonne's in her wedding dress, and Colin is dressed as the best man. The two of them stand beside a cake, beaming at the camera. "My best friend's getting married, and the bride went all the way across town to pick up a cake with me," his caption reads. A guy couldn't ask for a better girlfriend. He's one lucky man." The location tag leads to a popular bakery known for its cakes. I call Yvonne and demand to know what is going on. "Isn't this all supposed to be about fulfilling your mom's dying wish?" she asked, sounding casual, almost dismissive. "I thought I'd spend some time with Colin and help him relax. It'll make our performance more convincing later." Colin leans over and laughs. "Yeah, Nathan. We're just messing with you. We'll be back soon," he assures me. "Tell Ms. Brooks to wait a little longer." Only then do I understand that my desperate pleas and Mom's dying wish mean nothing to them. To them, it is all just a harmless joke. I stare at the heart monitor as its beeping flattens into one long, unbroken tone, tears blurring my vision. When this absurd little act finally comes to an end, I'm the only one left to bear the consequences. From this moment on, I'm going to let them go. And finally, I'll let myself move on.

Vito Costa has one rule he never breaks—everything must be done according to the hierarchy of priorities he has set. Curled up in his arms one day, I ask, "Can our baby be the top priority?" Just like always, he kisses me on the forehead and brushes me off, saying, "My schedule is packed with meetings with the Five Families. Let me get through them first." This whole time, I keep believing that he's just busy doing everything he can to secure a safe future for our child and me. Then, during my second month of pregnancy, a sharp, twisting pain shoots through my abdomen. Vito drives me to Riviera Hospital, the Costa family's hospital, in his armored sedan. But before we get there, he sees an encrypted message on the dashboard display and abruptly makes a sharp turn. "Sofia's cat is vomiting, and she's crying." Sofia Bianchi is my best friend—and the administrative secretary Vito has recently made an exception to promote over other candidates. Even as the pain in my abdomen makes me dig my nails into the leather seat, he drives straight to Sofia's apartment anyway. As soon as he gets out of the car, a notification flashes on the display. It reads, "Top Priority." Sofia's matters always come first. Vito buys the burial plot for her father following his death. He pays off the illegal gambling debts her brother racked up. I see the list of 196 trivial tasks, each one bolded in red to indicate its overwhelming priority over everything else. My fingers tremble as I scroll downward. Eventually, after skimming past the ammunition records and assassination orders, I finally see the words "pick a name for the baby". That elicits a mocking, bitter laugh from me. To Vito, even the most insignificant of social obligations are bigger priorities than the baby and me. I take off the ring, a Costa family heirloom, and gently set it down on the seat. Since Vito cares so little about me, I'm not interested in keeping this relationship going either.

I, Xavier Locke, had married the same woman, Melanie Slater, seven times. But for the sake of her first love, Leonard Blueman, she divorced me seven times. The first time we got married, she told me, "I'll only love you for the rest of my life." But every time Leonard came back to the country, she sang a different tune. "Can't you be more sensible? How can you bear to stand by and let Lenny be called a homewrecker who snatches a married woman from her husband?" The first time we divorced, I cut my wrists to make her stay. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, but she never showed up even once to see me. The third time we divorced, I humbled myself and applied to be her assistant at her company. I did that just so I could see her a little more. By the sixth divorce, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of the home we shared. My hysteria, my repeated backing down, and my tolerant compromises brought me nothing—just Melanie repeatedly divorcing and remarrying me. Time and time again, she pulled the same trick. With history repeating itself, I decided enough was enough. After hearing that Leonard was coming back again, this time, I handed her the divorce papers myself. As always, she set a date for our next remarriage. But what she didn't know… was that I was leaving for good this time.

On Twelfth Night, my wife, Joanna Jensen, and I agree to spend the day at my parents' place. I'm holding the hand of our five-year-old son, Charlie Reed. We've barely stepped through the gate of my parents' neighborhood when Joanna's phone rings. It's her brother-in-law, Ryan Quinn, on the line. "Joan, I'm trying to give Cynthia a bath, but she keeps crying for her Aunt Joanna. She's getting older now, and a girl her age shouldn't be bathed by her dad. I really don't know what else to do…" I've long since grown sick of his helpless act. Without saying a word, I just tighten my grip on Charlie's hand. Joanna's voice softens instantly, full of reassurance as she promises she'll be right over. When she hangs up, that familiar apologetic look is already on her face. "Honey, it isn't easy for Ryan to raise Cynthia all on his own. I'll just go check on them, give Cynthia a bath, and come straight back. I'll definitely make it back before lunch so I can eat with you and your parents." She isn't asking. She's telling me. I look at her, my heart sinking. Six years of marriage, and it's the exact same thing every single year. Ryan always plays this game, and Joanna always goes along with it. As I watch her walk away without looking back, Charlie tugs at the hem of my shirt and looks up at me. "Daddy, is Mommy going to Uncle Ryan's house again? But she promised she'd build Legos with us." I crouch down, smooth his hair, and suppress the anger rising in my chest. "Be a good boy, Charlie. Let's head up first. We don't want to keep Grandma and Grandpa waiting." Six years of marriage, and I've spent five of those years waiting for her to come with me to my parents' place. Charlie is five years old, and he's spent his whole life waiting for her to sit down and build Legos with him. This year, I'm done waiting. I'm not going to make Charlie wait anymore, either.