Plot Twists 단편 소설 & Childhood Sweethearts Cheating 소설

My boyfriend, Hugh Specter, is the best psychologist in town. I struggle with severe anxious attachment, and he tells me I need to undergo exposure therapy. The treatment is designed to gradually break my dependence on him for comfort. For the first week, I'm not allowed to initiate physical contact. The second week, hugs longer than three seconds are forbidden. The third week, I'm not allowed to text him while he's working. The fourth week, all physical contact is off-limits. I'm supposed to learn how to soothe myself instead of relying on him. I follow every rule. Whenever anxiety hits, I bite down on my pillow and force myself through it. I fill an entire journal with reminders to stay calm and reassure myself. At the start of the fifth week, I arrive at Hugh's clinic early to drop off my progress report. I see him sitting on a couch at the end of the hallway, holding his childhood sweetheart, Sonia Rafferty, in his arms. He lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to her hair, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand. "It's okay," he murmurs. "Hold on to me. I'm right here." I stare at the hand that has pulled away from me countless times, only to see it comforting someone else without hesitation. The receptionist lets out a quiet laugh. "Dr. Specter is usually extremely strict about professional boundaries. Somehow, Ms. Rafferty is the one person who always gets him to make an exception." So that's what his boundaries were. They were only reserved for me. I feed my progress report into the shredder, cancel the rest of my appointments, and delete his number. By the end of the fifth week, I finally complete my exposure therapy. Not because I've learned to resist the urge to depend on him, but because I've realized I don't need him anymore.

I'd upset my fiancé again, the men I'd grown up beside. All because I wanted to borrow thirty million from him to buy back a ruby brooch. Adrian was heir to the Vampire Prince. To him, the money was nothing. But in front of every servant in the house, his face went cold. "Elena. Don't be greedy." Disdain filled his eyes. "Yes, your mother died saving me fifteen years ago, yet I agreed to marry you." "You're only human. Don't presume on that." My throat closed. I'd been about to explain that the brooch was the only thing I had left of my mother. But Adrian had already looked away, impatient. "Whatever it is, it can wait until I'm back. Stop making a scene." I ran my thumb over the few thin bills in my pocket and lowered my head. A whole year of quiet work for the manor's servants, and that was all I'd saved. I was still wiping my eyes when I got back to my room, and my father called again. "Elena, have you decided? This is for your own good. No matter how long you wait, young Master Adrian will never marry you." "Why don’t you take your stepsister's place. Marry into the North instead. You'll have an easier life." This time, I didn't argue. "Fine. I'll do it." "But I want thirty million in return."

After the college entrance exam results are released, my childhood best friend, Lucille Kirk, and I celebrate with our families at a five-star hotel. Over dinner, our parents talk about how nice it would be if we applied to the same university. That way, we can continue looking out for each other, just as we have while growing up. I glance across the table at Lucille and ask politely, "Lucille, which university are you planning to apply to?" The moment the words leave my mouth, a flood of comments suddenly flashes before my eyes. "Oh, here we go again. I bet this pathetic second male lead is planning to follow the female lead to the same university." "I feel so bad for the female lead. She's had to put up with this guy clinging to her for three whole years just to keep the peace between their families." "Don't worry. The female lead has already agreed to attend Aurelia University with the male lead, Sawyer Spencer. She's definitely going to name some school on the other side of the country just to get this guy off her back. I can't wait to see his face when she does!" Lucille stares at me, her brows furrowed. Then she lets out a cold, dismissive laugh. "Clement Carnegie, where I go has nothing to do with you. I'm applying to South Coast University, all the way across the country. That place isn't suitable for you." I meet her gaze and nod, as if I couldn't care less. Then I turn to the girl standing quietly in the corner of the private dining room, silently holding the Kirk family's coats and car keys. "Mabel, which university do you want to apply to?" I ask. "I want to go to the same one as you." The sneer on Lucille's face instantly freezes. Both our families stare at us in shock. None of them knows that the timid girl with the cheap hearing aid—the one Lucille constantly calls "dummy"—is actually the long-lost daughter of Aurelia's wealthiest family. They have been searching for her for 18 years. And all these years, the reason I keep showing up at the Kirk Manor has never been because I'm chasing Lucille. I only go there so I can see that "dummy" a little more often.

Clive Hawkins, who had been giving me the cold shoulder, posted on X. [First 100 likes get a breakup cash giveaway.] In no time, it had 99 likes and reposts. I knew he was waiting for me to give in, just like how I begged him to delete it during the ten times we fought before. But this time, I reposted it myself and wrote, [Count me in.] Then, I blocked him on every platform. Three days later, his sister messaged me. [Clive saved you a front row seat. Stop hiding and come back. As long as you show up, he's willing to forgive you.] I glanced at the plane ticket on my desk and replied. [I'm busy.] I really was busy. I’d been admitted to graduate school at Redstone University, and my flight was leaving that night for orientation. From then on, we would be separated by thousands of miles, never to see each other again.

When Diana sacrificed everything to save the Silver Moon Pack, she never imagined that her mate, Alexander, would spend eight years punishing her for it. After losing their unborn child to a vicious attack from Alexander's lover, Diana begs for freedom from her loveless union. But dark secrets lie beneath the surface—secrets that could shatter both packs. The birth moon approaches, and Diana must decide whether to keep her promise of silence or finally break free from the Alpha who never wanted her. A tale of betrayal, sacrifice, and the thin line between love and hate. At the Silver Moon Pack's annual full moon ceremony, I was viciously shoved to the ground by Alexander's female companion, Selena. Wearing silver-tipped boots, she stepped directly onto my swollen belly. In an instant, bright red blood stained my white ceremonial dress. Alexander glanced at me with a slight frown. "Pregnant but not staying in the den to take care of yourself? Out here challenging pack hierarchy again? Trying to frame Selena, aren't you? The sacred ground is stained with your blood—so unlucky! What a disgrace to a Luna!" After saying this, he turned away without hesitation, wrapping his arm around Selena's waist as they left. Even the urgent howls of the pack healer didn't make him look back at me once. The bitter wolfsbane medicine churned inside my body, and in the end, the pup couldn't be saved. Clutching my now-empty belly, I had just come out of the healer's den when I saw Alexander on the pack's communication crystal, passionately marking Selena with his scent. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, piercing straight into my heart. Wiping the cold sweat from my forehead, I looked at my mother-in-law standing by the healing bed. "Elder Mardanna, it's been eight moons. The Silver Moon Pack's crisis was resolved long ago. I really want to break the mate bond. Please, let me go..."

The day I found out that my pilot husband, George, had given our wedding band to his widowed childhood sweetheart as a talisman, I changed his contact name to Captain Tanner. When I was suffering from a severe stomach bleed, George got a call from Tammy, saying that her son had woken up from his sleep, missing his late father. Without another word, George walked out on me. He promised to be there for my follow-up appointment, but he was quick to change his flight for Tammy because she was afraid of the thunderstorm while at the airport. I snapped a photo of my medical evaluation and texted, “Have a safe flight, Captain Tanner.” It was the same old reply. “Quit acting up. Tammy and her son have had it tough enough.” Later, he booked our favorite restaurant to slip the ring back onto my finger in celebration of our seventh wedding anniversary. Before we could get inside the establishment, the call from Tammy came in. “George, I’m scared. Can you pick me up? Liam said that you’re the only father he’s got…” George took one look at me and opened his mouth to explain. I handed the ring box to the server. “Please dispose of this for me.” I then turned to him. “Captain Tanner, your passengers are waiting.”

My boyfriend, Drew Myers, has proposed to me 99 times. Meanwhile, his childhood sweetheart, Tammy Fowler, has relapsed into depression 99 times. When Drew makes his 100th proposal, Tammy's depression strikes once more. As usual, he picks up Tammy's call, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a tired sigh, he turns to me and says, "She's having another breakdown. We'll have to put the proposal on hold this time." Despite it being my birthday, Drew starts clearing away the freshly served dishes as if it were any other day. Fearing I might complain, he shoots me a cold, disapproving glance. "I know you're jealous of Tammy, but she's the one who's struggling. You're a soldier. You should be the bigger person and give her some leeway." Not only does Drew want me to eat Tammy's scraps, but he also orders me to bring them climbing gear at midnight. When Tammy shares intimate photos of them hugging online, his only reaction is to lash out at me. "Do you honestly find satisfaction in pushing Tammy to another breakdown? Is this the honor of a soldier? Your cruelty sickens me!" Over and over, he tears down my character and mocks my integrity. But this time, I simply look down at the special forces recruitment letter in my hand and say nothing. Drew remains oblivious. At last, I'm the one who's letting go.

My company hosts an appreciation gala to thank long-time clients. I go to the company's cold storage to retrieve the batch of wine just flown in from overseas when a stream of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "That was close! She almost caught Daisy covered in red wine and looking all seductive. Good thing Tristan reacted fast and hid her in the freezer." "Can Scarlett just leave already? Look how cold Daisy and Tristan are. They are shivering. What if they catch a cold?" I pause mid-step, my gaze landing on the freezer behind me. Red wine is dripping out, and a piece of fabric is caught in the door. On it, I see the motif I personally sew onto my fiancé's clothes. Just then, the comments appear again. "Tristan plays it cool, claiming he is all about platonic love and staying chaste for Daisy. What a touching romance!" I smirked coldly. The platonic act is fake. The truth is he's cheating on me. Without a word, I turn around and toss the clothes they leave on the floor into the trash. Then, I lock the cold storage door and call the boss, who is in the middle of giving a speech. I exclaim over the phone, "A thief broke into the company! I locked them in the cold storage. Please bring some men and come over quickly!"

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.

My wife, Izzy Sockman, had been out entertaining clients with her childhood friend and best friend, who were both men. At two in the morning, she called me and asked me to pick her up because she claimed she had sharp pains in her stomach. The call made me anxious, and I rushed over with warm soup. When I arrived, I saw her lying in her best friend’s arms while he fed her wine from his mouth. Her childhood friend, Carter Enders, held her by the waist and looked at me with a taunting expression. “You came right away after taking the call. How obedient. You are right on time because Izzy is not done with her dare. Get over here and kneel while you pour us wine, and we will consider it a win for Izzy.” I thought Izzy would object, yet she only clung to Carter and pointed at the wine glass on the table. She ordered me around like a dog. “Didn’t you hear what he said? Hurry up and pour us a drink. Carter and Eugene are my kings today, and I have to do whatever they want. You are not allowed to leave until you pour us that drink.” Izzy had enjoyed her life as Capital City’s top CEO because I had invested billions into her company. She never cared about that. She only cared about acting like a lapdog for other men. Since she enjoyed degrading herself that way, I should take away her position as CEO.

The night before our engagement party, my fiancé's childhood sweetheart, Sabrina Payton, told me she had a special bridal surprise planned for me. She lured me into the glass conservatory on the hotel rooftop, locked the doors from the outside, and turned on every sprinkler. It was December, and a storm was raging outside. Freezing water poured down on me while I stood trapped inside a room made entirely of glass. The guests held up their phones downstairs, filming as I stood there soaked and shivering. She smiled at me, looking sweet and innocent despite the cruelty shining in her eyes. "Doesn't Melanie love acting like she's above everyone else? Let's see what she looks like when she's freezing and begging for mercy." On the other hand, my fiancé, Jay Harrison, stood downstairs and watched me through the pouring rain. He said in a cold voice, "Just make sure she doesn't die. Someone from a background like hers needs to learn the hard way that marrying into the Harrison family isn't that easy." Later, I smashed through the glass and made my way down from the rooftop. After that, I wiped the blood from my face and called my attorney. "Notify the board. Pull our investment from Harrison Group, freeze their accounts, and stop every payment scheduled to go out for Harrison Group's projects tomorrow morning. "Also, send tonight's footage to the police. Unlawful imprisonment, assault, invasion of privacy—I don't want a single charge overlooked. I want them hit with every charge that fits their crime."

I was made the subject of an explicit AI deepfake video that skyrocketed past twenty million views across the internet. On the day I set out to file a lawsuit, everyone came together to block my path. My childhood friend trapped me in the foyer, arguing, "Penelope, don't act impulsively. The video quality is blurry anyway, so nobody online can confirm it's really you. Filing a lawsuit is basically hand-delivering a public confirmation." My best friend snatched the legal documents out of my hands and tossed them straight into the trash. "I looked into it, and the account is hosted overseas. Even if you go to the police, they won't trace it, and the case will just sit in bureaucratic limbo forever." Even my older sister called, her voice dripping with self-serving indignation. "Mom and Dad aren't in good health. Don't go making our family a laughingstock for the whole town!" I wiped away my tears, and the moment they let their guard down and left, I rushed straight over to my boyfriend's apartment. Sam was a practicing lawyer; I knew he would support me in fighting for my rights. Yet when I opened the door, I froze. Sam's childhood friend, Ruby, was leaning into his chest with tear-rimmed eyes. "I really didn't mean to do it. I just typed the wrong AI prompt, and it somehow got generated like that." Sam was wrapping his arm around her, softly reassuring her, "It's really no big deal." Meanwhile, my best friend and my childhood friend were drinking on the couch, looking completely relaxed. "If Penelope hadn't barged into the picture back then, the person standing by your side would've been Ruby all along." "Exactly. She took someone else's place for years. It's about time she learned a lesson." I stood frozen in place. It turned out the culprits who destroyed me were right beside me all along while I had been kept blind to the truth.

Liam Pearce is supposed to be celebrating our daughter's birthday when she dies after ingesting wolfsbane. Instead, he's with a human woman as she goes for a prenatal checkup at the hospital. My daughter's dying wish is to celebrate her birthday with both her parents. However, she ultimately dies with regrets. My heart dies with her. I take her ashes to the place she most looked forward to going to in life. That's when I see Liam kissing another woman. She leans into his arms and asks daintily, "Isn't your daughter sick, Liam? Why do you have time to be with me?" "Don't even mention her. Sofia, that scheming woman, must be using that as an excuse to keep me there. You're the one I love the most, sweetheart," he says dotingly. "What about your daughter, then? Who do you love more, me or her?" "You, of course. You're my darling Mia." His words stun me like a bolt of lightning. After crying my heart out, I pack my daughter's belongings. I decide to leave Liam forever. However, he and the rest of the royal family get on their knees before me. They beg me not to leave.

After carrying me to bed, my boyfriend, Julian Cross, suddenly pulled me into his arms. “Babe, your roommate is pretty hot. Can you give me her number?” I froze and turned to look at him. He casually pulled the blanket over me as if he hadn’t just said anything outrageous. “We’re going to get married eventually, but don’t you think spending the rest of our lives with just one person would get boring? “I don’t want to give up an entire field of flowers just for one.” I stared at him for a few seconds before pushing his hand away. Then I calmly nodded. The day I moved out, Julian blocked the doorway, his brows furrowed in irritation. “Nora, weren’t we clear? We can both see other people. So why are you throwing a fit?” I bent down and picked up my suitcase. “Forget it. I’m actually pretty old-fashioned.” Later, after he’d had his fill of playing around, he came crawling back to me. I glanced down at the wedding ring I’d just slipped onto my finger and smiled. “Sorry. I don’t go back to exes.” There are countless flowers in the world. If one isn’t right for me, I’ll simply choose another. Because I will always deserve the best.

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

Zane Mercer and I had grown up together. Both our families took it for granted that we would end up together after graduation. He never bothered to hide it, either. Whenever someone brought us up, he would say, “Vivian gets scared so easily. She can’t manage without me.” I believed him for over a decade. Until the first department dinner at college. The prettiest girl in our department carried her drink over and sat beside him, smiling as she asked, “I heard you have a childhood sweetheart. Is she your girlfriend?” Amid the teasing and excited chatter, my cheeks flushed. I waited for him to nod. But Zane hesitated. “No. She’s just the girl next door.” Someone nudged the girl beside him. “Then you’ve got a chance!” She smiled brightly. “I’ll be counting on you to look after me from now on.” Zane didn’t pull away. Instead, he smiled back. “Sure.” In that moment, I remembered how he’d worried about me getting sunburned during the summer camp and gone out in the middle of the night to buy me sunscreen. I remembered how he’d held my hand while we filled out our college applications and promised we’d keep walking through life together. So all those years of affection meant nothing compared to one smile from her. On the way back, he caught up with me to explain. “Selene’s pretty straightforward. I just didn’t want to embarrass her.” I asked, “So it’s fine to embarrass me instead?” He frowned. “Vivian, since when did you get so sensitive?” I said nothing more. That night, I changed all our photos to private. From then on, I would be nothing more than the girl next door.

On the day Naomi Alder rose from the ashes, she secretly brought her childhood sweetheart—the one who had abandoned her years ago—into the company behind my back. When I found out, she swore in front of me, "I only want to punish him. I don't have even the slightest feelings for him." I did not lose control. Instead, I made him Naomi's assistant. Tristan Sawyer assured me with absolute certainty, "Don't worry. Between her and me, it will only ever be a superior-subordinate relationship. I would never come between you." I believed him. After all, back when Alder Co. went bankrupt, Tristan had humiliated Naomi in every possible way just to break free from her. It was not until the car accident, when Naomi threw herself forward without hesitation to protect him, that I finally understood. All these years, she had never let him go. When Naomi woke up in the hospital, she had lost her memory. Looking at Tristan and me standing by her bedside, she asked, "Who are you?" This time, I pointed at Tristan and spoke first. "Ms. Alder, this is your husband. I'm your assistant."

After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me. However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Furthermore, due to Isabella's baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium. While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life. By the time he remembers to bring me home, I'm already a broken soul. Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. "Sadie, look! It's me, Noah!" With a sneer, I ask, "Who's Sadie?"

At the wedding, Victoria Langley's childhood friend, Spencer Calloway, catches the wedding bouquet that she's just tossed. He arches a brow at her. "Does this mean I'll have to propose to someone? Well then, Vic, are you willing to elope with me?" Victoria's bridesmaids begin cheering on him. Amid their loud cheers and giggles, they push Victoria into Spencer's arms. "Give us a kiss!" "What's with that shy look, Spencer? Didn't you bury your face into Victoria's chest and hold her while sleeping on the same bed at the bachelorette's party last night?" Victoria giggles as she pinches one of the bridesmaids. "What's with the ruckus? My husband is still here, you know!" But the tips of her ears have secretly gone red. Spencer's lips curl into a wicked smile as he shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm fine with it. It's just that a certain someone's mooch of a husband will be pissed." Only then does Victoria turn to look at me. She pinches me on the chin gently while saying to me casually, "C'mon, it's just a joke. Don't be so petty." Then, she declares, "Let's continue the wedding." But I wave Victoria's hand away coolly before taking the microphone from the wedding host. "Spencer wants to crash this wedding, right? Well, I'm taking everything seriously now." Three days later, Victoria's eyes become red-rimmed as she stands outside the courthouse. As for me, I've never looked back ever since.

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.