Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Childhood Sweethearts Plot Twists

As 3iAtlas ignores all warnings and begins its descent into Earth's atmosphere, the entire human race realizes that an alien invasion is truly underway. Having anticipated this, I'm just about to take my girlfriend, Helena Cohen, to an official government shelter when her childhood friend, Damien Farley, intervenes. "Lena! The aliens are here! There won't be any fortifications that can hold against them!" he exclaims. "Listen to me! Let's go hide at the nearest Costgo instead. It's a membership-only place. The aliens don't have memberships, so they can't get in. It's the safest place on Earth!" I spit out the milk I was drinking, and to my horror, Helena nods in all seriousness. "Dam has a good point. Let's head out now." It strikes me then—if this is the level of intelligence humanity possesses, it would be no wonder if we were easily wiped out. Just as I prepare to use force to take Helena away, I realize I can't move. As it turns out, the milk was spiked. When I finally regain consciousness, I find myself inside a Costgo Wholesale. "Stop being so naive, Carl. We're doing this for your own good. Costgo has stopped issuing new memberships, so it's perfectly safe here, and there are plenty of supplies to keep us alive. We're saved." I shift my still-feeble body and smile. "You're absolutely right. Since it's so safe here, we really ought to bring all your other relatives over, too."

This was our last road trip before graduation. My girlfriend, my two childhood friends, and my best friend had all agreed that the five of us would do the whole trip together. But on the third day, one of our cars broke down, leaving only four free seats. My girlfriend, Eleanor Delaney, handed me a six-hour bus ticket without hesitation. “You don’t get carsick anyway. Just tough it out. We’ll wait for you at the next stop.” Just when my best friend, Edmund Turner, was about to volunteer to take the ticket, my two other childhood friends, Faye Howard and Lily Concord, cut him off. Faye frowned. “You were throwing up yesterday. Why are you trying to play the hero?” Lily chimed in, “Are you sure you can handle six hours on the bus?” Eleanor had already carried my luggage out for me. She said with a smile, “Everett will be fine. He can handle it.” As always, I agreed. But six hours later, when I reached the destination we had agreed on, I discovered that they had changed their route and gone to another city on a whim. In the group chat, the four of them ate barbecue and laughed happily. No one even remembered to inform me about the change of plans. At that moment, I recalled what had happened over the past few years. When Edmund felt cold, they offered him three jackets. When he felt tired, everyone would stop to let him rest. The less I complained, the more they took me for granted. This time, I was done chasing after them. I bought a return ticket and replied to the out-of-town company that I had turned down two weeks earlier. [Hello, I’d like to accept the position you offered me before.] I did not want to be around people I had known for over a decade anymore.

My adopted Omega sister, Maya Bardolph, is known to be innocent and kindhearted. Before the practical admission assessment, I specifically tell her not to interfere in any way. But she secretly puts a prohibited performance booster into my water bottle. I am reported for cheating on the spot. My results are canceled, and I am permanently blacklisted. When I break down and demand an explanation, she bursts into tears, looking pitiful and wronged. She weeps, "Sierra, I just wanted you to get first place... I didn't know things would turn out like this." My boyfriend, Dale Ashshade, immediately pulls her into his arms and blames me instead. He scolds, "She is only trying to help. Why are you being so harsh to her?" My parents chastise me frostily as well. "Isn't it just one practical assessment? She's an Omega. She doesn't understand these things. Can't you be more patient with her?" To apologize, Maya smilingly brings me a cup of herbal tea later. "Sierra, I made this just for you. Promise you won't be mad at me anymore after you drink it, okay?" Without thinking much about it, I drink the tea. But what she uses to brew the tea is highly poisonous silver oleander. I die from the poisoning. Outside the emergency room, Maya cries hysterically, "I'm sorry! I didn't know silver oleander is poisonous... I just wanted to apologize to Sierra..." When questioned by the Enforcers, Dale calmly gives false testimony. "After Sierra was caught cheating, she became mentally unstable. She couldn't accept how things turned out and took silver oleander to kill herself..." When I open my eyes again, I return to the day before the assessment.

I’m a werewolf, eight months pregnant with my vampire mate's hybrid child. When the contractions hit, my vampire mate, Justin, locked me in an ice coffin carved with runes meant to suppress childbirth. I screamed. I begged him. He just said, "Wait." But this was all for his childhood sweetheart. Isolde. The pureblood vampire had used dark blood magic to carry his pure-blood heir without having sex. The first vampire child born in a millennium would receive the Progenitor's ultimate blessing. It would purify the bloodline. It would break a curse generations in the making. "That honor belongs to Isolde's child," Justin said, his voice pure ice. "You already have my love, Gracie. This coffin just ensures you give birth after her." The pain of the contractions tore through me. I begged him to take me to the Bloodspring Sanctuary. He leaned in, his cold fingers gripping my chin. "Stop the act. I should have seen it sooner. You never loved me. You were an outcast in the werewolf world. You only wanted my power and my title." "You're so desperate you'd risk our child with your savage wolf tricks, just to ruin a pureblood's blessing... You're poison." Tears streamed down my face. I trembled, my voice shattering. "The baby's coming—I can't stop it. Please, I'll make a blood oath. I don't care about the blessing. I just want you!" He scoffed, a hint of pained betrayal in his eyes. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have run to my mother. You wouldn't have poisoned her mind against Isolde." "I'll be back after she receives the blessing. After all, the child you're carrying is mine, too." He stood guard outside the sanctuary where Isolde's ritual was taking place. He didn't give me another thought. Not until he saw the halo of the blessing crown Isolde. He ordered his blood thrall to release me. But the thrall's voice trembled with terror. "My lord… Lady Gracie and the child… their life signs… they're gone." In that instant, Justin’s world shattered.

Under my parents' request, I work as the finance officer in my childhood friend, Julius Sanford's company. But the moment he goes on a business trip, the new intern, Lizzie Dalton, rushes into my office and demands that I process her reimbursements. As I stare at the pile of receipts that come from luxury stores, all I feel is shock. "Lizzie, I can only use the company's funds to reimburse business expenses. Why are you asking me for reimbursements when all you did was buy clothes and bags of your own?" But as soon as my words fall, Lizzie splashes a cup of coffee at me instantly. "I'm the lady boss of this company! The company's funds are my funds too! Don't think you can just reject my receipts just because you know my husband!" I do my best to suppress my fury as I dig out the company's policy and reiterate, "No, I seriously cannot do that. The company's cash flow must be reflected in the books." Seeing as I refuse to yield to her no matter what, Lizzie calls Julius on the phone and begins whining to him. "Babe, since when do I need to ask your childhood friend for approval if I want to buy something I like for myself? Or could it be that she's acting so assertively because you two are secretly having an affair?" Julius panics and tells Lizzie that he has nothing to do with me. After that, he quickly releases an announcement on the company group just so he can defend Lizzie. "Lizzie Dalton is my wife! She's the second boss of this company other than me!" After that, Julius tags me in the group. "Hey, finance! You're not my mom here! I don't like you, so please stay out of my private matters! "I'd like nothing more than to let my own wife spend my own money! If you don't like that, you can pack up and leave!" Once Julius makes his stance clear, I change my tune and reimburse Lizzie the expenses she's claimed. But one week later, Julius finds himself staring at the list of debts that's 33 feet long when he returns from his business trip.

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.]

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

The college entrance exam was finally over, and our class gathered for a celebratory dinner when our homeroom teacher, Mr. Daniel Sanford, received an unexpected phone call. After hanging up, his expression turned grave. "A student in our class submitted blank answer sheets for every single subject." The room erupted in speculation as everyone tried to figure out who it could be. Then, to everyone's shock, the class president, Jayla West, approached me with tears in her eyes, apologizing over and over. She explained that one of the pencils she'd purchased for the class had been defective. Three hours after use, every mark it made would disappear—and by sheer bad luck, that pencil had ended up in my hands. In other words, I was the student who'd supposedly turned in a blank exam paper. Before I could say a word, my childhood friend and the school's top student, Samuel Ashley, stepped protectively in front of Jayla. "Ellie, Jayla didn't do it on purpose. It was an honest mistake. You're smart enough that even if you have to take the exam again, you'll still get into college. Stop blaming her." As I stared at the unquestioning way he defended another girl, a pang of sadness and bitterness shot through me. What Samuel had forgotten was that just before the exam began, we had swapped pencils.

When I woke up, my right hand was clutching a pair of men's Calvin Klein underwear. Two letters were embroidered in gold thread on the inside of the waistband: J.C. A push notification popped up right on cue. Number three on TikTok's trending page: Dalton University's hockey captain loses five pairs of underwear in one week; roommate reveals the victim has been forced to go commando. In the video, Chase Jacobson's roommate, Tyler Brooks, held an empty drawer up to the camera and tearfully demanded justice. And under my pillow, a suspicious little bundle bulged. I slowly reached over. One pair, two, three, four. Plus the one in my hand: five. The underwear thief the whole school was hunting... turned out to be me.

I’m Chloe. Daughter of the richest man in the world. I spend money like water. To stop me from blowing his fortune, my dad put me on a strict allowance. But right before my engagement party, he made an exception. Handed me a black card. Told me to pick out my own wedding jewelry. I went straight to Manhattan. To the most exclusive, biggest rough diamond trading center in the US. Because real top-tier jewels? You don’t just buy them. You bid for them in blood. I spotted a flawless rough pink diamond. It had this faint, perfect glow. Just as I picked it up, smack! A hand slapped mine hard. It stung. I dropped the stone. "Don't touch what you can't afford. You break it, can you pay for it?" “Five hundred thousand. Wrap it up. Now.” I frowned and looked over. A woman in a designer evening gown was rubbing her hand with disgust, as if she’d touched something filthy. Before I could even speak, a staff member snatched the stone right from me. "Right away, Miss Mia! I'll wrap it up for you!" I actually laughed from sheer disbelief. “Excuse me? That's daylight robbery.” Mia folded her arms and looked me up and down with a sneer. “Robbery?” “I’m Liam Astor’s childhood sweetheart. He's the heir to Wall Street's biggest empire. Around here, whatever I want, I get.” “So who the hell do you think you are, calling that robbery?” Liam. At the familiar name, I raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t he the fiancé my father had forced on me? I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Liam. Your little childhood friend is trying to steal my wedding jewelry in public. Are you going to handle this?"

My father died saving Conrad Nelson, the Don of the Nelson family. Conrad took me in to repay that debt and raised me alongside the three most promising boys in the family. From then on, I was the family's little princess. Those three boys would give me anything I asked for. I loved afternoon tea at the Ritz, so they chartered a private flight just to take me there. To make me smile, they spent three million dollars on a fireworks show. They swore they would protect me with their lives, and I trusted them with everything I had. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with one of them. Then, during a gang war, they saved Serena Blake, a street flower seller caught in the crossfire. She barely had to do anything. Every day, she brought them a bouquet and a few soft, caring words. Two weeks later, Eli Warren scolded me for the first time. He called me spoiled because I'd thrown out the flowers Serena sent. The other two immediately defended me. "Violet's allergic to pollen! How can you hold that against her?" Eli was Conrad's most trusted advisor, the one who always thought everything through. It was the first time he'd ever taken a side against me. The next day, I walked in on Serena dressing Tristan Cole's wounds. Tristan ran security for the family. He was usually cold and ruthless, but now that hard edge was gone. He sat there and let Serena tend to him. In tears, I went to Christian Hayes, the family heir. He held me tight. "Violet, I'll always be here for you." But on my 18th birthday, Christian got a text from Serena. She said someone was harassing her. He left me without a second thought and ran off to save her. That was the last straw. I went and knocked on the door of Conrad's study. "Don, I'm ready to marry the man in Italy."

For ten years, I was the messenger between Gabriel Moretti and my sister, Vivian. Every time he and Vivian fought, he trashed the whole studio. As the kid sister who tagged along, I was the one running around the neighborhood at midnight for bandages and hangover pills. They couldn't stand each other's stubbornness. And yet, whenever the mood struck, they kissed like they never wanted to stop. Then, no matter what he did to stop her, my sister got on a plane to California for grad school. Gabriel caught me outside the airport security checkpoint. His eyes were red as he gripped my chin. "She thinks she's the only one who gets to walk away from me? Vera, I know you've been in love with me for years. We're going to City Hall." It was how he got back at my sister. For me, it was a pit I couldn't climb out of. In three years of marriage, he never once held my hand in public. But late every night, he pressed me down into the bed in the master suite and wouldn't let me go. I thought he'd finally accepted me as his wife. Then, last night, my sister posted a boarding pass on Instagram. Gabriel told me to move out of my own home that same night. "Gabriel, I'm your wife." He looked at me like I'd said something ridiculous and gave a thin smile. "You know better than anyone why we got married. Greed doesn't suit you, Vera." I didn't say a word. I just took the unopened box and, right in front of him, dropped it in the trash by the door. "You're right." I smiled at him. "I'm done being greedy." What Gabriel didn't know was that just this morning, I'd signed up for an exchange program in Switzerland. By next week, that little tagalong who did nothing but carry messages would be gone from this city.

My boyfriend was a therapist. On the day I got diagnosed with ALS, he was busy celebrating his friend's birthday. He said, "Sophie's got depression. Without me, she could break down, hurt herself, or do worse things." To look after her, he broke up with me and moved into her place. I blocked him on everything, agreeing we'd go our separate ways. Strangely, he lost his nuts when he found out I was dying.

I'm just about to cross the street when the pedestrian light starts flashing. I hesitate, unsure whether to make a run for it. Wendy Sherman, my girlfriend, and Sawyer Young, my close friend, have already crossed to the other side. I'm the only one left behind after the pedestrian light changes to red. They reach the other side of the street without looking back at me once. A black car speeds past, splashing mud onto my pant legs before I finally react and take a step back. I have always been a little slow ever since childhood. I'm the last one to finish my meal and the one walking behind everyone else. Wendy and Sawyer worried I would fall behind in my studies, so one explains the questions to me while the other takes notes for me. They eventually end up leaning close together, arguing for the rest of the afternoon about geometric auxiliary lines. I remain sitting beside them, unable to get a word in. They insist on coming along to help me screen places when I go apartment hunting. They both grab a brochure from the real estate agent and walk together, talking about commute times and how much natural light the apartments get. Sawyer casually reaches over and helps Wendy carry her handbag. Wendy glances up at him, smiling and joking as they walk along. I end up as the one constantly trailing behind, watching their backs. That's when I suddenly get it—only people who move at the same pace can cross on the same green light, and the ones moving a beat too slow have to wait for the next light by themselves. I step forward and walk onto the crosswalk as the pedestrian light turns green. If I can't keep pace with them, I'll walk on my own from here on out.

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.

On my way home from work, I realized a man I didn't know was following me. I called my husband, Cassian Bellamy, for help, hoping he could come pick me up. Instead, he sent me a few cold voice messages. "Can you stop acting like you're being followed all the time? We live in a society governed by laws. Where's this creep you're talking about?" "Also, if someone really is following you, what do you think he's going to do? You're a married woman. I'm busy right now, so take a cab home yourself." I hid in the corner of a 24-hour convenience store, trembling from head to toe. It wasn't until a torrential downpour began that the creepy figure finally left. I ran home in the dark, soaked to the skin and covered in mud. The moment I got home, a post from Cassian's childhood friend, Celine Marlowe, popped up on my phone. "This is why having a childhood friend matters. I couldn't get a ride home in the rain, so he drove across half the city just to pick me up from work." The photo showed Cassian's familiar Land Rover, with a warm cup of coffee in the passenger seat. Celine's pinned location was a full 18 miles from our home. And Cassian's car would have passed right by the street where I'd called him for help. In that moment, all the strength seemed to leave my body. Maybe I didn't need this miserable marriage after all.

My crush, Landon Chase, was part of a tight-knit clique of four: three guys and one girl. My roommates all warned me to stay away from groups like that. But I wouldn’t listen. I pursued Landon for a year and finally got him to date me. Before he introduced me to the others, Landon warned me again and again. “Yvette Quinn is the group’s princess. If you ever pick on her, we’re over.” I nodded obediently. Inside, I was practically bursting with excitement. Stealing the group princess’ place was exactly the kind of thing a sweet-faced manipulator like me excelled at.

On the night of senior prom, I stayed beside Ethan Cole as I always had. Someone teased us again. “Why don’t we give the dance floor to our favorite childhood sweethearts?” I had heard that joke countless times, but the secret I had kept for years still made my cheeks burn. Ethan said nothing. He did not ask me to dance. He walked out of the ballroom and into the night. I waited before following him. I had barely reached the doorway when I heard his voice, low and flat with impatience. “It’s suffocating. Does she have to follow me everywhere?” He was the one who said it. He was also the one who had promised I could depend on him until I fully recovered. I spent the rest of that night alone in the empty ballroom. The following Monday morning, I passed the college wish wall outside our classroom and removed the note bearing the name Westbridge University. It was the school we had promised to attend together. I still wanted him beside me. But I would no longer choose my future just to stay beside him.

Although Kate Hopkins and I have been in a relationship for ten years, our love for each other has never faded away in the slightest. In the past, she has declared on a podium that she will always stay devoted to me. Naturally, I've always thought that she'll be my soulmate in this lifetime. Three years ago, Kate was transferred to a research station in Althoria. When I head over to visit her, I witness her wrapping a naked young man up with a blanket. After choosing to believe Kate's side of the story, I return to the country and do everything I can to take care of her mother while waiting for her return. Little do I know that this is just a huge lie. Just like that, my ten-year relationship has gone down the drain. Ten years seem like a short time—as short as a cicada's lifespan while it chirps through the summer. The polar night might seem like a long time—so long that a passionate relationship carved into my flesh and bones can be erased. But no matter how long the night is, there will always be an end to it. When dawnlight shines onto my world, it still remains intact even at Kate's absence.

On my wedding day, my childhood friend, Finn Wheeler, kicked open the chapel doors with a whole crowd of his friends behind him. He announced that he wanted to take me away and marry me. However, we hadn’t even gone far when he suddenly let go of my hand. Then, he laughed nonchalantly and said, “Guys, I won again for the one hundredth bet. You lost. Pay up.” Only then did he turn back to look at me. “I was just joking,” he added lightly. “You didn’t actually believe me, did you? You can go back in and finish the ceremony.” Everyone laughed at how I’d pursued Finn for ten years and how I would do anything for him. However, neither Finn nor any of them knew that being taken from the altar was just one part of my wedding plan.