Melodramatic Short Stories & Childhood Sweethearts Face Slapping Novels

I was reborn. The universe spat me back to the year of my SATs, eighteen again, right when Noah Ritchie confessed his love for me. Turned out, it was the last year he'd ever love me. That was the year he met her… the one who'd actually own his heart. For Carla Davidson, he didn't hesitate to confess his love to me, not out of sincerity, but to distract me from my studies. Because of him, I missed my shot at a top university and barely got into a second-tier one. He even staged a car accident to keep me from attending an academic competition, just so Carla could win first place. When Carla suffered from severe blood loss in an accident, he convinced me to donate so much blood that it permanently damaged my health and left me unable to bear children. Later, Noah was forced to marry me, but he spent every day brooding over a photo of Carla. And when he learned she was getting married, he abandoned me without a second thought, choosing to die for love. But in this lifetime, I'm wide awake. I won't love him again. I'll be selfish. I'll live for myself and no one else. So when Noah looked at me with his usual arrogance and asked, "Tiffany, will you be my girlfriend?" I met his gaze calmly and shook my head. "No."

Quentin Quandt—Shane Fuchner's uncle—killed himself. After he died, someone found a drawer stuffed with unsent love letters. Every single one had my name on it. So when life hit rewind and Mom asked if I wanted to marry Shane, my childhood friend, I said no. I picked Quentin. Here's the thing—I got reborn. Last time, I chose Shane. Huge mistake. He was hardly ever home after we got married. And when I started bleeding from a miscarriage, he ditched me because Ceryn Schuck—his first love—texted, [The power's out and I'm scared.] He didn't even hesitate. I died that night. So did the baby. And Shane? He didn't cry. Just whined that my death ruined his vacation plans with her. Then I woke up—right back at the moment Mom asked who I wanted to marry...

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

On our sixth anniversary, my girlfriend Emily Spencer's childhood friend, Dante Randall, pulls out a "Model Boyfriend Scorecard". He throws an arm around her shoulders. "Em's too trusting. A guy says a few sweet words, and she falls for it, so I need to screen them for her. After all, nobody knows men better than a man." Emily doesn't object. She just sighs. "My mom picked the wrong guy in the past. I'm not making the same mistake." From that day on, every single thing I do ends up on that scorecard. When Dante calls Emily in the middle of the night to pick him up from a bar, I offer to drive her because I'm worried. Dante looks me right in the eye and writes, "Tails his girlfriend everywhere. Overly controlling. Minus ten marks." Emily secretly lends our newly renovated home to Dante for a party. When I return, I find the leather couch slashed and large patches of grease smeared across the pristine white walls. I tremble with rage and confront him about ruining our home. Stinking of booze, Dante taps his scorecard. "Obsesses over material possessions. High risk of financial control after marriage. Minus 20 marks." I stare at the wreckage, completely speechless. Dante makes another mark. "Shuts down under stress. Suspected emotional abuse. Minus another 20 marks." "You're down to 50 marks. That's a failing grade. How can I entrust Em to you?" I turn to Emily. She doesn't say a single word to defend me. It hits me all at once that there was never a passing grade for this model boyfriend test to begin with. If I'm destined to fail this test, then I quit.

After my father passes away, my mother—now married into the wealthy Hawthorne family—brings me to live with them. Everyone laughs, saying I'm being groomed to become either of the Hawthorne brothers' bride. Even I start to believe it. But later, when I try to marry one of them, both reject me. The older brother says, "I'll need to marry for business one day. Why would I marry her?" The younger one scoffs. "She's older than me. Who'd want an old woman?" But the very next day, the two of them propose—together—to my assistant. I instantly become a joke. After that, I call my mother. "Mom, I'm willing to marry into the Grant family."

At our friends' get-together, my girlfriend, Delilah Stallard, casually stuffs her half-eaten ice cream into the mouth of her childhood sweetheart, Noel Weston. Everyone around us instantly exchanges awkward glances. My best friend looks furious as he asks me what I'm going to do about it. What else can I do? Naturally, I give them my blessing. "Why did you even bother to look for a boyfriend? You two might as well just date each other."

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.

When applying for colleges, I give up a prestigious university for Priscilla Reed's sake. But in the fifth year of our relationship, I break up with her. I see her outside the dorms, diving into Jeremy Stark's arms and tilting her face up to kiss him as no one else matters. Priscilla sneers at me. "You're just some farmer. What kind of life can you possibly give me?" She seems to forget that the Chanel dress she wears and the Hermès bag she carries are things I bought for her. That's the moment I end things with her. Let someone else play the doormat. I'm done. After that, I focus on farming, even managing to grow crops on the moon. Then, the press reveals who I really am—the son of Javonbury's richest man. Jeremy's father comes to me, bowing and scraping. He even forces Jeremy to kneel in front of me so that he can beg me for a partnership. Priscilla's eyes are red and swollen as she tugs on my sleeve and tells me she regrets everything.

“Boo, I’ll call you once I’ve booked my plane ticket.” Lily Lark was shocked. “Have you finally come around?” Aqua Chronos was not done speaking, but the noise outside ruined her mood. At that point, John Frank and Will Lane must be throwing a celebration for Samara Queen. Aqua walked out of the washroom and wanted to head to the president’s office to hand in her resignation letter. But Samara saw Aqua and beckoned her over. She spoke cutely and sweetly, “Aqua, are you leaving alone again? Come over and have some fun with us!” Everyone in the room heard her. “No need. Have fun.”

For the 23rd time, I'm left standing at the altar as Jace Larkin hurries off because his foster sister, Celine Keaton, threatens to end her life again. The guests mock me, saying that we'll never tie the knot and attending our wedding will bring bad luck. I tune them out, holding on to Jace's promise that he'll come back and marry me. I buy his promise yet again, only for him to prove me wrong one more time. After I clean up the mess and pacify the angry guests, I reach home in the middle of the night. While passing the study, I hear Jace's voice. "Cece's always been mentally unstable. Of course, I have to stay with her. Regina will never leave me, even if I postpone our wedding a hundred times." Sorry, Jace, but I'll have to disappoint you this time. Blinking back tears, I unlock my phone and text my childhood friend, Clement Halloway. "Let's get married in three days."

There's a ten-car collision on the highway, and I'm trapped in one of ten. For some reason, none of the ambulances can get to us. I desperately call my boyfriend to ask for help. I expect him to immediately come to my rescue, but he merely snaps at me. "Yvette didn't even make a sound when she sliced her finger. Couldn't you have just dodged when the accident happened? You're not crippled or anything! Stop being so childish at your age!" He doesn't want me to disturb him anymore, so he blocks my number. Fortunately, a kind soul saves me and takes me to the hospital. I survive the ordeal. When I leave the hospital, I see a breaking news report on the screen in the lobby. "Love exists in the world! Mr. Fenton spends a fortune to gather the city's ambulances to save his true love when she slices her finger!" The news report makes my heart ache. I pull out the ring I was going to use for my proposal and throw it away without hesitation. Henry Fenton and I have been together for 14 years, but I don't want the relationship anymore.

I started calling my brother "Mr. Quinn" and my childhood friend "Mr. Webb". They frown and ask why I'm being so formal with them. I smile faintly in response. "Because I think you would rather be associated with Vanessa Quinn." They scold me for being unreasonable. "Vanessa is about to marry a man in a coma for you, and her whole life will be ruined. The only reason we treat her so well is because you owe her." But what they don't know is that the one marrying a man in a coma this time isn't Vanessa. It's me—Willow Quinn.

After I refused to donate my uterus to my older sister, Madeline Holloway, my childhood sweetheart grew to hate me. He plotted to send me into the bed of the top heir of Highcrest's elite circle. The heir's desires were intense, but he despised women who threw themselves at him. Everyone waited to see my downfall. Instead, he spoiled me beyond measure. Three years into our marriage, he loved getting his hands on me whenever he could—the balcony, the kitchen, the car, even at glamorous banquets. I could barely step into the restroom before he'd follow, pinning me against the sink. We never used contraception. Alas, I never got pregnant. It wasn't until the day I went to the hospital, thinking I might be expecting, that I overheard his conversation with the doctor. "Winston, you had me secretly transplant Madison's uterus into her sister three years ago. Now you want me to lie and tell her she's infertile? How can you be so cruel to a woman who loves you?" "I had no choice. Madeline's marriage will be on the rocks if she can't bear children. Madison's uterus was the only match." The familiar male voice sounded so icy and unrecognizable just then. That was when I realized the love and salvation I trusted without question were nothing but another lie. If that was the case… it was time for me to make my exit.

Nikolai Edevane and I had grown up together in a psychiatric hospital. We were childhood sweethearts who had known each other since we were young. Everyone in our circle said the Edevane family had raised a pair of vicious monsters, and no one dared cross us. "Anthea, monsters that crawl out of Hell are meant to stick together. Neither of us will ever be allowed to leave the other." On Nikolai's birthday, I helped him complete the final piece of his business empire. What I received in return was news that our twin sons had died in a car accident. The chauffeur had been drunk and fled the scene. On the eve of the trial, Nikolai set off fireworks across the entire city to celebrate his "recovery." Then, he took a pregnant woman by the hand and brought her before me. "Daphne is the only light in my life. She saved me. This ends here! Stop making a scene!" My eyes were bloodshot with grief and rage. "Nikolai, your sons died!" Nikolai said quietly, "Our sons may be dead, but you still have me. You still have your status as Mrs. Edevane. We'll have plenty more children in the future. However, Daphne only has her father left in this world."

The day Pedro Palmer's mom was supposed to get my kidney, I ghosted. He waited outside the OR for ten hours. What did he get? A death notice. After that, he went full beast mode on his career. Five years later, his company blew up. Media darling. CEO. Power suit. And yeah, he was holding another girl's hand, all smiles for the cameras. "Do you have anything to say to Ruth Rackham? We heard she supported your early days," a reporter asked. Not even a pause. "Yeah. Thanks for vanishing. For letting my mom die with questions. For wrecking me. She taught me not to trust anyone." He stepped in closer, eyes cold. "This is what you wanted, Ruth? Too bad. Love's gone. And you? Not even worth my hate." That's when Nellie Lyon, the reporter, went pale. "Mr. Palmer... Ruth Rackham died five years ago. She was the test subject. She donated her body—before she passed..."

A week before summer break, my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart threw a fit, insisting on going to Tanond to watch a strip show. She even convinced our entire class to go with them. I kept warning them that it was not safe, that it could be some kind of new scam, and begged them not to go. When they refused to listen, I secretly reported it to the police. On the day of their departure, the police stopped them right at customs. A few days later, a male stripper suddenly went viral overnight. When she found out about it, she got so furious her eyes turned red. “It’s all Zoey’s fault! If it weren’t for her, we could’ve seen an international superstar's strip show!” On the first day we went back to school, they drugged me and made ten men teach me how to dance. “Didn’t you stop us from watching a strip show? Then you can perform one for us yourself.” The next day, my photos of strip show were all over social media. After that, I jumped off a building out of despair. When I opened my eyes again, it was once again the day his little sweetheart demanded that trip to Tanond.

I cooked an entire dinner spread to celebrate the day I was supposed to marry my girlfriend. Then, I called her to ask when she would be home. However, I heard her jeering about me with her friends the moment the call connected. "Lydia, Owen is way too easy to fool. That fake marriage certificate didn't even have an official seal, and he still bought it, believing he was your husband. We wouldn't have had to pretend to work at the City Hall if you and Trevor hadn't already gotten the real one." Lydia let out a careless, mocking chuckle. "Husband? Please. He's just a desperate fool who follows me around like a lovesick puppy. The only he's good for is being my free live-in maid. Trevor and I grew up together. He's the one who's always mattered most to me." My fingers tightened around the fake certificate as tears blurred my vision. I had loved her with everything I had for five whole years. Yet, my devotion meant nothing to her. I had never even been considered as a candidate as her future husband. I had only been free help. The woman I had wanted to spend my life with had never loved me at all. Fine. I called my childhood friend instead. "Are you free? Let's go get married."

The day before our engagement, my fiancé told me he wanted to take me on a trip around the world first. Yet the moment we landed in northern Manchernius, he and the woman he'd always been in love with tied me up and shoved me into a car. As we drove farther on, the surroundings became increasingly familiar. I started trembling uncontrollably and begged them to stop the car and let me go home. Yale Zane only sneered at my pleas. "Stop wasting your breath. Once we sell you off to one of the compounds, there'll be no one left to stand between me and her." I burst into tears. The problem was, I wasn't the one who was doomed. They were. This was my childhood friend's turf! I'd spent years trying everything I could think of to escape him. After finally making it back home, the last thing I'd expected was to be delivered right back into his hands.

My pack has a tradition. Every she-wolf who comes of age has to run for Moon Envoy once, and someone has to truly choose her. If no one does, the Moon Goddess punishes her. I was so afraid of that punishment that I'd never dared to run. But my future mate, Silas Thorne, said I was worrying over nothing and signed me up for this year's election himself. "The Moon Goddess watches over every one of us. She's not going to punish anyone that easily. You're overthinking it." Still uneasy, I kept reminding them. "This is a big deal for me. You, Scott, and my brother are the only three wolves I'm really close to. "When the time comes, you all have to vote for me." I'd thought I would get at least one vote. But that night, my ballot box was empty. Then a familiar voice drifted over from the corner. It was Vivian Grant, the human girl they'd rescued and brought back to the pack. "Silas, it's all thanks to you three. I got the most votes, so I get to be the Moon Envoy!" "But my sister's going to be okay, right?" Alexander asked. "The elders said the Moon Goddess takes away all the feelings of any wolf no one chooses." Silas, Scott Avery, and my brother, Alexander Reed, fell silent for a moment. Then each of them denied responsibility, claiming he'd been sure the other two would vote for me. In the end, it was Silas who spoke, his voice flat. "So what if she loses her feelings? She's always been sensitive. She cries all the time. She's nothing like a real wolf. If she really ends up with no feelings, maybe she'll finally toughen up." Soft moonlight fell over me, but my chest ached with every beat of my heart. I took it all in silence and waited for the punishment the people closest to me had brought upon me. But once my heart stopped feeling anything at all, why did they all start to regret it?