Childhood Sweethearts Face Slapping Short Stories & Novels

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.

On the eve of the SAT exam, I caught a flu and became feverish, and developed a throat infection. My boyfriend's childhood friend, Wendy Cooper, accompanied me to the hospital so that I could receive an IV treatment there. I specifically told Wendy to let the doctor know that I was allergic to penicillin. Once my IV drip was ready, I raised my head to see the word "penicillin" labeled on the medicinal drip bag. Enraged, I summoned a doctor to remove the needle from my arm. At the same time, I demanded angrily, "I'm allergic to penicillin, so why did you still prescribe it to me?" The doctor frowned deeply at Wendy immediately. "Miss, your friend was the one who told us to prescribe you penicillin. She claims that you'll be able to make a quick recovery and that you'll be able to attend the exam without a hitch tomorrow." Wendy looked at me in an aggrieved manner. "I'm so sorry, Yvonne. I just wanted you to get well as soon as possible so that your performance on the exam won't get affected at all. This is all my fault. I'm so stupid that I can't even do one little thing right…" I let out a sigh before telling Wendy to be more careful next time. In order to show how apologetic she was, Wendy offered to pack up the stuff I needed for the SAT exam. In the middle of the exam, when I was filling in the answer sheet, a balled-up note suddenly rolled out of my pencil case. Someone reported me for cheating on the spot. When the invigilator unwrapped the note, he found out that it was completely filled with answers. I was labeled as a cheater on the spot and got kicked out of the exam venue. Because of the severity of this issue, I'd be facing jail time. I turned to glare at Wendy furiously and demanded why she wanted to harm me. But Wendy just rushed into my boyfriend, Christian Shepherd's arms while crying at the top of her lungs. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Yvonne!" Even Christian gave his testimony that I was the one who had prepared the note in an attempt to cheat on the exam. When I tried to drag Wendy over to the police station to have her penmanship tested, she pushed me down the stairs, resulting in my death. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the SAT exam starts.

To make my wife Chloe Bennett's dream of owning a hot-spring lodge in the snowy mountains come true, I moved in with her family and borrowed a fortune to build it. Instead, it became a free private club for her childhood sweetheart Lucas Reed, who burned through more than $1.4 million in premium ingredients over three years. Then yesterday, the suppliers showed up at our door demanding payment, and I swallowed my pride and asked Lucas to settle his tab. He grabbed the red wine bottle off the table and smashed it against me. "You freeloading piece of trash. I bring my friends here to class up this dump, and you have the nerve to bill me?" Blood slid down my cheek. My wife rushed in and went straight to check his hand. "He doesn't know any better. Why waste your temper on him? What if you'd hurt your hand? I'd have been heartbroken." I wiped the blood off my face and left the lodge without a word. Just now, Lucas sent me a voice memo: "I'm throwing an extravagant banquet at your mountain lodge. Clear out all three floors of the main cabin and make sure my friends are impressed. Do that, and I'll let bygones be bygones." Holding the bankruptcy liquidation and receivership agreement I'd just picked up from the law firm, I smiled at my phone and replied, "Sure. Just be there on time."

My husband's childhood sweetheart is a fake heiress. She and I are abducted at the same time. But when my husband, a doctor, arrives at the scene of the abduction with a medical team, he chooses to save her first. My legs have been broken, and I struggle to stay afloat in the ocean. I'm on the brink of death, and I beg him to save me and the child in my belly. He merely looks at me. Before leaving, he almost generously helps me call 911. Then, he says, "It's disgusting that you're lying about being pregnant just to save yourself. I've repaid you for saving my life—come to the hospital later today to sign the divorce papers." After listening to his words, I remove the hearing aid from my right ear with a trembling hand.

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."

After my rebirth, I decided to draw a hard line between myself and the heir of the Mafia Family, Carlo Gutierrez. He had his golden retriever take my seat and told everyone I wasn't even fit to touch dog food at his party. After that, I never sat at the main table again. He complained that my voice was giving him a headache and got in the way of his business, so I muted myself in front of him. He sneered that I reeked, so I packed up and went back to my rundown apartment in the slums, never setting foot on his territory again. In the end, he said just having me around would ruin his marriage alliance with the Moreno Family's Principessa. I nodded, then accepted someone else's proposal without hesitation. I made the choices opposite to what I made in my last life. After I married him in my previous life, the Moreno Family's Principessa was killed in a shootout. Carlo concluded I was the culprit and threw me into the basement for torture before finally throwing my body into the sea. Later, when he saw me with another man, he confronted me with red eyes. "Rosa Shaw, you've had your fun. Come back with me, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened!"

I was born a dense people-pleaser, completely missing sarcasm and mistaking backhanded insults for compliments. Because of this, I died six times under bizarre circumstances, though I always assumed I just had terrible luck. This was my seventh rebirth, and fate gave me a head start. The moment I opened my eyes, a new text appeared in my phone's memo app. [Your best friend, Nancy Morgan, will arrive tonight at eight, claiming she wants to stay over. Once you fall asleep, she will turn on the gas valve and leave.] [Your childhood sweetheart, Lorenzo Myers, will visit you in the hospital while you're delirious and force you to sign over your apartment.] [They will marry, move into your home, and drain your assets. You will die of organ failure after they stop paying your medical bills.] I frowned, dismissing it as a sick joke. Nancy and Lorenzo had always been good to me. Why would they want me dead? I figured this time I could finally relax and live a normal life. Then, at eight o'clock sharp, the doorbell rang, and Nancy's cheerful voice floated through the door. "Gloria, I came to see you! Miss me? Open up!" I started toward the door with a habitual smile on my face. But the final line of the prophecy flashed in my mind: "They'll team up to put you in the hospital. You'll lose everything and die." I froze in place.

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."

When I was twelve, I bought a half‑starved boy from a Brooklyn fight pit. His ribs were broken, blood on his teeth, but he still crawled to my feet. “Choose me,” he said. “Give me a place, and I’ll be useful.” So I took him home. Twelve years later, Matteo Greco had become my family’s most feared enforcer. He bled for me, killed for me, carved my initial over his heart—and called it loyalty. Then one day a beautiful young woman showed up at my door. “You were never the one he loved,” she said with a smirk. “You’re just the nightmare he’s been trying to escape.” She placed a hand on her swollen belly and taunted me, “Matteo’s going to run away with me.” I let out a cold laugh. I had my men drag her downstairs, then sent a message to Matteo: “Get back here. Now.”

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?] The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out. Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked. I didn't swoon. I froze. Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago. And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one. I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background. My hands were shaking when I called him. "I wanna see the dress," I said. He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later." I just smiled and hung up. That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella. Total circus. I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

On our fifth anniversary, I booked out the rooftop lounge to propose to James. Everything was set. Roses, champagne, candles. The only thing missing was him. Then my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. “Don’t bother waiting. He’s across the street buying a ring for his childhood sweetheart.” I laughed. Thinking it was a sick prank, I just looked out the window. Directly across the street, in the glass window of a luxury jeweler, James was sliding a diamond ring onto another woman’s finger. My phone vibrated again. “I confessed to you three years ago. “Knowing this now... Will you marry me?” ---

On the day my boyfriend and I moved into our new home, his ex-girlfriend gave us a mysterious gift. The moment I opened the front door, a swarm of hornets came flying out. I screamed in fright as I felt seven or eight stings from them. His ex, Erica Loft, jumped out from behind the door with a giggle. She shouted, "Surprise! "I went up the mountains to visit a master craftsman. I wanted to get you this specially brewed hornet wine, and I even brought back a hornet's nest for you to decorate your new house with! "Isn't this a great gift?" Erica made a face at us. She was gleeful at the messy predicament I was in. My boyfriend, Joe Fulham, clenched his teeth. He rushed forward to grab Erica by the wrist as he shouted angrily at her. "Are you crazy? Don't you know that hornets are venomous?! Is this really a surprise, or are you trying to hurt us?" I listened to another one of their huge arguments from behind the door, feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. As I felt the stinging pain in my arm, I knew this wedding was about to fall through.

On the night of the full moon, my mate Aiken brought home an Omega. He said the she-wolf had saved his life on the battlefield and that he would take care of her for the rest of her life. She took over my room and put on my mother's velvet cloak. In front of everyone, the two of them held up the bear claws that symbolized a mating and received the pack's blessing. And I got left behind, over and over. When I finally couldn't take it anymore and went to Aiken's house, I found him kissing her neck. The Alpha who was supposed to be mine was using his own scent to ease another she-wolf's heat. Because she said his scent was the only one she liked. "Mira, don't worry. The only Luna the Silvermoon pack will ever have is you." He held my face in both hands and promised me again that we'd have our mating ceremony at the next full moon. Too bad I'd already washed off the mate mark. And there was something else Aiken seemed to have forgotten. Any member of the pack can challenge the Alpha. If the Alpha is stupid and useless, then somebody will take his place.

The day before the SAT, Lewis Sutton, the most popular boy in class, volunteered to help everyone verify their test centers and organize two charter buses for everyone. Just before departure, he suddenly stopped me. "Finley, I just realized your test center is Easthaven. Both buses are headed to Westbrook." Everyone thought it was no big deal. "Just take a cab. We can't risk missing the exam for you." When I asked Lewis for the transportation list, Cerys Moore stepped in front of me. She lowered her voice to insist, "Lewis is already exhausted from coordinating logistics for the whole class. Why are you kicking up such a big fuss over nothing? "If you're this petty now, you're going to give him a harder time in college. "I'm warning you, either don't apply to Northbridge University or Blackwell University, or intentionally skip one of your exam subjects, so you won't end up attending the same school as us. Otherwise, our engagement is over." Too fed up to argue, I simply hailed a cab and headed to my test center alone. When I arrived at the Easthaven test center in the nick of time, our homeroom teacher, Mrs. Leah Williamson, was standing outside, sweating profusely from anxiety. "Why did both buses go to Westbrook? The entire class is supposed to take the exam in Easthaven!"

I was the famously sickly daughter of a great general. A cold breeze could make me cough blood. Unfortunately, I also had echopraxia, which made me compulsively imitative. Whatever I saw, I copied, and nobody could stop me. When I was three, one of my father's mistresses staged a hanging to win his attention. I thought it looked interesting, looped a sash around my own neck, and copied her. By the time a maid found me, my eyes had already rolled back. The physician forced three bowls of restorative down me through the night before he got me back. When I was five, my half sister threw herself on the floor screaming for candy. I copied her and stayed unconscious for seven whole days. My father even issued one iron rule throughout the Ashford estate: No crying. No tantrums. No dying in front of me. Then, at sixteen, an imperial decree married me to Crown Prince Adrian.

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...

It has been seven years since I shadowed Eula Ross like a fawning puppy. Under my dedicated tutoring, she successfully became a top student. But after the SATs scores were released, she casually dropped a single line at a class reunion. “Why don’t you apply for a community college with me? I have to go be with Luke Stetson.” All these years, I have been at her beck and call while granting her every wish. To make her happy, I even humbled myself to the point of slapping myself in front of everyone. Everyone said I was her shadow that she could never shake off. They bet that I would be stuck with Eula for the rest of my life. Right then, our classmates were standing by. They waited to see how me, the valedictorian, would humbly agree. For the first time ever, my expression was cold as I flat-out refused her. “Screw that! You’re the one with a screw loose. I’m not.”

The class heartthrob, Kevin Mosley, who scores only 1000 in the SATs, claims that he has successfully enrolled at Starvard University and is just waiting for the semester to begin. He even guarantees that he can get the entire class admitted as well. The whole class starts cheering and praising him for being their hero. All of them intend to let him submit their college applications for them. But something about his story doesn't sound right to me, so I ask a few more questions. That's when I discover that his so-called exclusive admission internal channel is CloudAI, which is just an AI chatbot! It confidently tells him that it has already reserved a special admission slot for him and guarantees that he can report to Starvard University when the semester starts. Trying to help, I point out that the AI is just generating conversational responses and telling him what he wants to hear. My childhood friend, Janice Hudson, is the first to jump to his defense. "Daryl Greer, how can you doubt Kevin? He's trying to help the whole class. What's it to you?" My friend, Aaron Yates, chimes in as well. "Daryl, AI is cutting-edge technology. It's the future. You can't dismiss it just because you don't understand it." Their words rile everyone up. As the argument escalates, I am shoved down a flight of stairs. I hit my head and die on the spot. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the moment when Kevin proudly announces that he's been admitted to Starvard. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. This time, I'll simply respect their choices and wish them the best.

My family has this outdated tradition. On my twenty-second birthday, whoever gets my heirloom bracelet first becomes my wife. For the past eighteen years, my childhood sweetheart, Madison Young, teased that she’d be the one to claim them. However, when I opened the box, the beads snapped and spilled across the floor, right in front of a blind girl passing by, Grace Bellamy. She bent down and picked them up. Madison made a scene, urging me to marry her instead, just to please my father’s illegitimate son, Connor Vaughn. Watching Grace stand there, flustered and surrounded, I stepped forward, shielding her with my body. "Fine," I said. "I’ll marry her."

My husband, Theodore, was about to take his childhood sweetheart, Rosalie, around the world in a hot-air balloon when I was kidnapped by his enemy. They were about to throw me into a snake pit. I gave up asking Theodore for help and called my father-in-law instead. In my previous life, I begged Theodore to save me, even kneeling in front of the phone camera. Hence, he abandoned the hot-air balloon ride with Rosalie and rushed to negotiate with the kidnapper. Rosalie was all alone and angry. She took another hot-air balloon, but it exploded mid-way, causing her to die on the spot without even leaving behind an intact corpse. Hearing the bad news, Theodore showed a rare calm expression. He seemed to forget about Rosalie's existence and took me on a trip around the world. As we were sailing in Norwol, he suddenly pushed me into the sea. "I should never have saved you. Snake pit? Kidnapper? How could they have had the courage to push you into it? I should've never saved you if I knew it'd kill Rosalie. You should go to hell sooner!" When I opened my eyes again, I had come back to the day I was kidnapped. This time, I chose not to call for help. Humble love would only leave you bruised and battered.