قصص وروايات قصيرة عن Melodramatic وتضم Childhood Sweethearts

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."

Three nights before my wedding, I called my fiancé, Garrett. A version of him from five years in the future answered. I couldn't keep the happiness out of my voice. "Are we happy together? Has your mother finally accepted me?" A long silence hung on the other end before a low, tipsy chuckle came through. The laugh was faint, the kind you'd use to humor a naive child. "Vivi, in the last five years, you've asked me for a divorce more times than I can count." I froze. "...What do you mean?" "It means you found out about me and Kiera." My breath caught. I couldn't believe it. "My sister? I thought you couldn't stand her." He let out a quiet sigh. "Vivi, saying I couldn't stand her was just my way of hiding how I really felt." "Don't worry, I won't divorce you. We made our vows at the altar, after all." A chill ran through me. I wanted to press further, but a lazy little giggle drifted through from the other end. "Garrett, who is it?" He murmured something in response and hung up. A second later, a message from Garrett popped up on my phone. [Vivi, our wedding is almost here. You're happy, right?] [I'll be good to you for the rest of my life. If I ever break that promise, I don't deserve to live.]

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."

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."

Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old. She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up. "Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever." "Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?" Bella froze. Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious. Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time. Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts. She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again. Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough." She still heard the shake in his voice. Now? Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.

"Mr. Dawson, about that farmhouse construction project in Hattensburg… I've decided that I'm willing to go there." Gary Dawson, on the other end of the line, sounds fairly surprised. "I've been asking you to go there for ages, yet you refused every time because you said you wanted to be with your boyfriend, Timothy. Why the sudden change of mind?" Madeline Carlton lowers her reddened eyes and pretends to chuckle nonchalantly. "I guess I hit one too many walls and just decided to come to my senses afterward." Hearing this, Gary sighs and says sternly, "This is a highly classified mission. You will be assuming a whole new identity when you start working on this project. Before the mission ends, you will not be allowed to have any contact with the rest of the world. "Madeline, are you sure that you've thought things through?" "Yes. I just want to escape this place as soon as I can." There is a long silence on the phone. However, Gary answers right after the pause. "Alright. I'll send the classified contract to you in a while. It should take about a month for the paperwork to be finalized. Use that opportunity to say goodbye to your friends and family." The call disconnects. An email pops up in Madeline's inbox. Right after reading through the classified contract, she signed her name with a flourish and submitted the file with a click. At the same time, Bloomberg Group's new product launch plays on the television. Timothy Bloomberg, wearing a tailored white suit, slowly leads Lacey Houston up the catwalk stage.

Ethan Shaw had died. Before the funeral, his wife, Stella Walker, packed his belongings and found a thick photo album. [My True Love] On the cover, it said— She opened it. The photos inside were not of her. They were Rachel Chester—the girl Ethan had adopted years ago. Not only that, Ethan left all his wealth to her. Stella died with hate in her heart. When she opened her eyes again, she had returned to the night before she married Ethan. This time, she chose to live for herself and walked away from Ethan to pursue her own dream. What she did not expect was that, in this life, Ethan went mad looking for her when she left. He searched for her everywhere.

I was bound to a Blessed Lineage System and thrown into a world of shifters. After a rabbit shifter named Rowan saved me, we slowly fell in love. Together, we had three little rabbit babies. But soon, the other shifter clans discovered my strange gift. While Rowan was out hunting, they took me away and forced me to bear their heirs. Rabbit shifters were born weak. To bring me back, Rowan fought with everything he had in the arena, only to be beaten down by the stronger clans. All he could do was watch as they dragged me away. When I finally escaped and returned to him, he did not despise me. Instead, he treated me even more tenderly, doing everything he could to make it up to me. But over the next five years, I was taken eight times. Again and again, I gave birth to children who were not his. I begged the system to send me home. But it told me I could never go back. Then, one day, I was taken again. Before I lost consciousness, I heard Rowan speaking to a wolf shifter. “Don’t hurt Ayla. She’s afraid of pain. Once she gives birth, send her back to me.” The wolf shifter let out a cold laugh. “She’s just a breeding vessel. Why are you acting so worried? Don’t worry. You’ll get what I promised. I’m far more generous than that black serpent.” Only then did I understand. Rowan had been trading me for resources all along. And because I was afraid he would blame himself, I had foolishly endured all that pain for him. I had almost given up completely. Then the system’s cold voice, silent for so long, suddenly rang in my mind. [Ding. System mission updated. Once the host has continued the bloodline of every shifter clan, she may return to her original world.] I froze. Only two clans were left. The wolves. And the foxes.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

I've been married for eight years, but my husband won't let our daughter call him "Dad" because his childhood sweetheart's son struggles with severe depression. After he missed our daughter's parent-teacher meeting again because he was with Susan Lawson and her son, I decided to leave. I prepare the divorce papers and decide to leave with my daughter. I go to her school and find her homeroom teacher, Laura Anderson. "Ms. Anderson, I'd like to apply for a school transfer." She looks surprised. "Why the sudden decision to transfer?" I reply calmly, "Her dad has been working out of town, but he's finally settled down and wants us to move there." Laura sighs. "Well, that's not bad. I always thought you were a single mom." I smile. I'm not, for now. But I'll be one very soon.

For three years, Quinn Walker had been engaged to Liam Grant. During that time, she'd chased off countless women he'd flirted with and buried more rumors about his love life than she could count. None of it had ever bothered her. Quinn had everything going for her: beauty, a great figure, and social standing. More importantly, she and Liam had grown up together, and their bond ran deep. She had never doubted that he loved her. He was simply angry with his family for trying to control his life. So whenever she dealt with another woman, she'd turn to her fiancé with a smile and ask, "Are you done being mad yet? When are we getting married?" Liam would always give the same lazy reply. "Just wait a little longer." And somehow, a little longer turned into three years. Then one day, something changed. Her friends began warning her to keep an eye on a girl Liam was financially supporting. This was a first. Never before had anyone felt the need to warn her about another woman.

My mom ended up in a vegetable state because my husband's childhood sweetheart hit her while drunk driving. When the police asked her to take a breathalyzer, Sarah swore she hadn't drunk anything and dared them to draw her blood for a test. At the hospital, James faked the test results. He staked his career on it, producing a clean report that cleared her of driving under the influence. The day she walked free, he went to pick her up. I screamed at him, "Don't you know she hit my mom?" He shrugged. "Margaret is not dead. She'll wake up, okay? Why are you freaking out, trying to ruin Sarah's life? Will that make you happy?"

After the four others in my group forgot my birthday three years running, they finally promised to join me for a stand-up show this year. On the day, I arrived early with five pricey tickets I’d bought. All I needed was to wait and pass them out: one for my fiancé, one for my best friend, one for my childhood friend, one for my adopted sister. I was holding the last ticket for myself when a hand stretched toward it. I spotted a strange werewolf behind my adopted sister Marian. “This is Leah, a classmate. She just split with her boyfriend and wants the show to cheer up,” My childhood friend Noah said cheerfully. “We’ve got extra tickets. Della won’t mind, she hates seeing Leah hurt.” My best friend Lisa linked arms with me. “I got your favorite chestnut cake. You can go collect it now.” Marian hesitated and offered to give Leah her own ticket, but Noah and Lisa cut her off at once. “No, you’ve been looking forward to this forever. We planned to watch together.” My fiancé Victor snatched the ticket from my grasp and handed it to Leah. “Let Leah take it. You aren’t that into stand-up. It’s freezing out here. Go get the cake and head home. We’ll celebrate your birthday after the show.” Marian had to go in as we’d arranged, Leah had to go in to mend her broken heart. I was the only one with no place inside. They forgot I planned this whole outing and paid for every ticket. This was meant to be my birthday, yet I ended up locked out. I stood there watching the five of them file forward for ticket checks. It dawned on me: in our little group, only four seats were permanent. The fifth was never guaranteed to be me. It could be anyone. Right then, I knew I didn’t need them for my birthday. And I didn’t need them in my life at all.

When my wedding gets delayed for the 99th time, I call the company in charge of planning the wedding and tell them to swap my name out for Julian Foster's childhood sweetheart, Madison Hart. "We understand what you mean, Ms. Sinclair. But are you sure you want to make the change? It seems that Mr. Foster has no intention of delaying the wedding this time." As I listen to the shocked host's words, I stare at the draft on the monitor. Groom: Julian Foster Bride: Olivia Sinclair But the design's special note shows, "Adjust the theme according to champagne yellow, Madison's favorite color." Madison is Julian's childhood sweetheart. Even though he claims that she's only lending a hand in referencing the wedding's designs, the truth is, she's the one calling the shots in the wedding's flower arrangement, wedding gifts, as well as the wedding anthem during the bride's entrance. She even leaves an airy comment about my wedding dress. "A fishtail gown suits her more." After dragging the document into the recycle bin, I reply calmly, "Yes. Please change the bride's name to Madison." I shall return the wedding that's filled with Madison's traces to her and Julian without altering a single thing. After that, I will retreat from this bunch of nonsense unscathed. Finally, we shall part ways permanently. Julian can stay with the woman he truly wants to be with, while I can enjoy the unbridled freedom on my own.

My sister accompanies me when I go for my premarital medical checkup. When I'm preparing a urine test, I hear embarrassing sounds coming from the cubicle next door. I'm about to leave when I hear the conversation. "Keep it in you, Willow. We're doing this again if it slips out." The voice belongs to my fiancé, Zachary Hilton. The woman to whom he's speaking is Willow Langley, my sister. I dial his number hysterically to see whether it really is him, but my calls go unanswered. All I hear is the incessant ringing of a phone next door and moans alongside it. I'm rooted to the spot, too stunned to do anything. Zachary once vowed to love me for life, yet he's doing something like this with Willow prior to our wedding. The moans and pants next door take a long time to subside. Once I hear them leave, I call home, my face wet with tears. "Mom, change my husband-to-be to Thomas Hilton, Zachary's youngest uncle. I don't want to have anything to do with Zachary anymore."

After I transmigrate into a Gary Stu novel as the evil male supporting lead, a system appears in my mind. It tells me that as long as I can conquer one of the female leads, I will be able to return to my original world with a healthy body. But I've failed in my conquest. There are a few female leads in this novel. There's the fake heiress, Leslie Jackman, who I have grown up with and have viewed as my older sister. The true heiress, Miranda Suller, is a boxer who happens to be seatmates with me during our high school times. My childhood sweetheart, Catherine Langdon, who's also a genius surgeon, happens to be one of the female leads too. Heck, even my own daughter, Natalie Jackman… my own flesh and blood… All of them are quick to fall for Gabriel Linner, the poor yet strong-willed young man who's also known as the Gary Stu of this novel. Because of that, they hate me deeply. The system sighs before telling me that as long as I can die in the hands of any of the female leads, it will let me return to my original world. Later on, I use all of the tricks up my sleeve and succeed in getting killed by the female leads. But why is it that they've lost their minds after I die?

Three months after I died, Jack Carter became one of the youngest colonels in the United States Marine Corps. At the promotion ceremony, every person in the room stood up and applauded him. He had a war record, he had money, he had a house that looked out over the woods, and he had the kind of future everyone envied. But only I, already dead, knew that the one person he had truly wanted his whole life was never coming back. The year he turned eighteen, he rebuilt a beat-up old Ford and put the spare key in my hand. He said, "After prom, come find me. I will take you to California." I said yes. But that night I walked down the steps on another man's arm and told him, in front of everyone, that I had never loved him. He did not know that my family had forced that lie out of me. They used Jack's freedom and his future to threaten me. If I dared to leave with him, a forged felony statement would put him in prison and disqualify him from ever enlisting. So I chose to deceive him, and I watched him leave hating me. Later, in the service, he was bullied and framed, and he nearly lost everything. He believed a total stranger had saved him. He did not know that the person who tracked down the witnesses, paid the lawyers, and handed the evidence to the military was me, from the beginning. Later still, he went from a small-time punk out of the harbor district to a decorated officer. Meanwhile my family went bankrupt. I lost the house, the trust, the health coverage, and in the end I died alone in an apartment with a leaking roof. On the day I died, he was standing under the lights receiving a medal. On the screen, everyone was applauding him. On my side of the screen, I was holding the car key from the year I turned eighteen, the one we never used, and I stopped breathing. It took three months for my letters to reach him. Only then did he know. The cruelest words I ever said were said to protect his future. Every kindness in his life that he thought came from a stranger came f

Years after graduation, I walked into a college reunion with a freshly printed wedding invitation in my hand, ready to give it to the man across the table. His eyes turned red as he asked me a question. "Do you remember an upperclassman named Derek Ashford? The one who brought you breakfast every morning and spent hours with you in the library?" I smiled and shook my head. He pressed on. "Do you remember running two miles through a downpour for his birthday? He said he'd love you forever." I frowned instinctively, my hand pausing halfway across the table with the invitation. Nathan Sterling, the boy I'd grown up with, came over and slipped an arm around my waist. "Who's Derek Ashford?" I leaned into Nathan's shoulder and lifted our clasped hands for everyone to see. "Let me introduce you all. This is my husband, Nathan Sterling." The moment those words left my mouth, every pair of eyes in the room turned to the man who had just knocked over his cup of tea. Tea dripped off the table edge onto his pants, but he didn't seem to notice. His gaze was locked on the diamond ring on my finger. His reaction baffled me. Six months earlier, Derek had brought Selene Dawson, his graduate advisor's daughter, back to the apartment we'd prepared for our wedding. She claimed to have amnesia. I ran out into a rainstorm and was hit by an out-of-control truck. When I woke up, every memory of Derek Ashford was gone. The only person left in my world was Nathan Sterling, my childhood sweetheart and the man I had come to love all over again. We had just made it legal at the courthouse.

In order to marry Layla Weiss, I cut ties with my family. My dad, Dan Cruise, crossed my name out of the family tree right then and there. My mom, Maryam Cruise, slapped me across the face and told me that she no longer considered me her son. I had no regrets. The engagement party was set for the International Trade Center banquet hall. We sent out 200 invitations. I waited for three hours wearing a borrowed suit. She did not show up. I could not reach her by phone, and she did not reply to my texts. I smiled and told the guests that she had to go on a last-minute business trip. After the party ended, I cleaned up the mess all by myself. A trending topic popped up on my phone. [The Weiss Family’s Eldest Granddaughter Gets Married. The Groom Is Her Childhood Sweetheart] In the photo, she was wearing a floor-length gown, arm-in-arm with Alban Carter. They stood outside the city hall with their copies of marriage certificate in hand. The date on the certificate was three days ago. I folded the borrowed suit, packed it into a bag, and dialed a number I had not called in three years. “Mom, can I come home?”

My ex-husband has remarried. Before the wedding, his new wife sends me an invitation. I can't understand this. Why would she invite her husband's ex-wife to her wedding? Half a year later, my ex-husband and his new wife make it onto the trending topics. #HaveMilesGallagher'sStandardsDroppedAfterHisDivorce? #MilesGallagherMustBeFilledWithRegret