Countdown 단편 소설 & 소설

On what should have been our wedding day—for the eighth time—Luca Romano was called away yet again by his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Marino. I didn't argue or make a scene. I even smiled and wished them well. Everyone stared at me in shock as I calmly announced that the wedding was canceled. No one knew I had been reborn. In my previous life, I instinctively grabbed Luca and tried to stop him. After hesitating for a moment, he stayed and went through with the wedding. But Vivian was heartbroken. In a fit of despair, she agreed to a marriage alliance in Moscow, only to die in a car accident on the way there. From that day on, Luca hated me. I was still his Donna, seemingly blessed with the status, power, and man everyone envied. But in reality, he ignored my feelings and shut me out for twenty years. Until a rival Family laid an elaborate ambush for us. The moment the bomb went off, Luca pulled me tightly into his arms and shielded me with his body. Warm blood smeared across my cheek. He gave a faint laugh as he wiped away my tears. “Diana, I've repaid everything I owed you in this life.” “If there's another life, let Vivian and me be together.” I eventually died, consumed by grief. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Vivian agreed to the marriage alliance out of spite. This time, I would give him what he wanted. So why did he lose his mind with regret after I left?

Ten days after giving birth, I told my husband, Ethan Reed, that something was wrong with me. He turned his phone face-down on the coffee table and looked at me for a full three seconds. "Sophia, you just had a baby. It's normal to feel tired." Then he flipped the phone back over and went on texting his office nurse, Serena Blake. That was the last time I brought it up. Everything that happened after that, I assumed was my own fault. That changed when I reached into his coat pocket and felt a collar I'd never seen before. Real leather, brand new, with a round metal tag hanging from it. It wasn't my size.

I was an Ageless. Many years ago, because of nothing more than a single loaf of bread, I became indebted to Sheila Johnson in a way I could never escape. The only way to find my way home was to grant 100 of her wishes. Her very first wish was for me to become her lover. To repay that debt, I stayed by her side without ever asking for a name or a promise. I taught her what it meant to love, and I shared countless long nights with her until our lives became inseparable. For the next three years, every wish she made was astonishingly simple. She only wanted to see me smile a little more. Then, during the annual Winter Festival, she released hundreds of glowing lights into the night sky. They drifted ever higher, shimmering across the heavens like a river of fallen stars. As she watched the breathtaking display, she whispered her 96th wish. "May we never part from each other." Yet only a few days later, she ordered every trace of my existence at Johnson Manor erased before casting me out of the estate. As I stood alone in the middle of a raging snowstorm, I heard her casually speaking to her friends as though I had never mattered at all. "Whatever you do, don't let Keith find out that I once confessed my feelings to another man. "You all know Keith has always been the one I loved. If he hadn't been sent to the neighboring kingdom as a hostage when we were still children, I never would have needed someone else to take his place. "Now that the king of the neighboring kingdom is dead, I've already arranged for Keith to fake his death and return safely. This time, I'm going to marry him. I won't let myself have any regrets."

On my fifth wedding anniversary, I find an old phone inside Jayden Luther's safe. The password is his first love's birthday. The phone has records of all their sweet moments in the past. In contrast, he doesn't even have a single photo of me in his current phone gallery. "Shirley Lovell, don't you know it's rude to invade someone else's privacy by peeking?" I turn to look at the man standing outside the door. I don't scream or throw a tantrum. Calmly, I say, "Let's get a divorce." Jayden reformats his phone on the spot. His expression was so indifferent that I can't quite discern any emotion. "Are you happy now? Are we still getting a divorce?" he asks. I nod seriously. "Yes."

To help Adrian Spencer get over his feelings for his cousin, his mother made a deal—with Zoey Landon, the girl who had been secretly in love with him for years. They signed a contract. It gave Zoey ninety-nine chances. If even once—just once—Adrian chose her, she’d get what she wanted: to become his wife. But if he never did, she’d be sent overseas for good. No return. No exceptions. Zoey knew how hopelessly obsessed Adrian was with Claire Spencer. Still, she signed without hesitation. Ninety-nine chances. She refused to believe he wouldn’t choose her—not even once. But what she didn’t see coming was…

When Ryder's professor sent him yet another email, he glanced around his cold, empty home. Faced with Seth's relentless provocations, Ryder made up his mind—he would leave Laura. With the wedding fast approaching, Ryder decided to give Laura the perfect ceremony—one that would please both her and Seth. His departure, however, would be the biggest surprise of the event. But after Ryder walked away, Laura looked at the groom standing at the altar, lost control, and destroyed the wedding in a fit of madness.

I was dying from my fear of heights, but my husband, Don Vincent, was busy with his assistant, savoring the latest coffee flown in from Hawaii that morning. "You're a grown woman, Bella. What's the big deal? You're stuck on a roof, figure it out." Then he hung up on me. I collapsed onto the hot tar of the roof, my body shaking uncontrollably before everything went black. It was two hours before building security found me. When I got home, I asked Vincent for a divorce. He rubbed his temples, his patience worn thin, looking at me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. "Over a cup of coffee? I told you, the heights are all in your head. You’re perfectly safe now. Stop making a scene alright? What's this nonsense about a divorce? I have more important things to deal with. Calm yourself down." I stared at his back as he left, tears already streaming down my face. Something important? Did he really think I couldn't hear his assistant, Sophia, murmuring in the background? Did he think I didn't know he took her to the last family gathering? I had loved Vincent for three years. Everyone knew he was the center of my world. They all thought an orphan like me could never leave him. But now, all the love I had was eclipsed by a profound, soul-crushing exhaustion. I was done. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in three long years. "Uncle, book me a flight to Seattle. I'm ready to leave Vincent."

When a Moretti daughter turns eighteen, her mother places the family necklace around her neck. It means she will be protected by the family for life. But on the day of my twin sister Bella's and my coming-of-age ceremony, my mother removed my rubies and took my twin-star pendant—just so Bella could marry into the Harrison family in style. My gown, my jewelry, and my grandmother's heirlooms all became hers. To force me to fix Bella's necklace, they locked the estate, took my phone, and made me miss my Columbia University interview. My ten fingers were left bloody, but my mother gave all the credit to Bella. That was when I finally understood—they had never seen me as a daughter of the Moretti family. So before the coming-of-age ball, I accepted Columbia's offer, packed my grandmother's jewelry tools, and left without a word. They thought I'd have nothing without the family's protection. Until they realized— The Moretti family hadn't lost an extra daughter. They'd lost their only jewelry genius.

My boyfriend, James Hendrick, had an obsessive need for personal space. It took me five years of pleading before he finally agreed to let me move in with him. As I dragged my luggage and waited downstairs at his apartment building for five hours, his phone remained switched off the entire time. Just as I was shivering from the cold, I looked up and noticed the lights in his apartment were on. Thinking he had gotten home early, I asked the security guard to let me in. After the doorbell rang three times, the door finally opened. However, the person standing there was not James. It was Serene Alison, wearing one of his oversized shirts. "Maria? What brings you here?" Serene asked innocently as she wiped her half-dry hair. Then she explained, "James said there would be a hurricane in the next few days. He was worried my apartment might leak, so he left me his keys and told me to stay here for half a month." Through the crack in the door, I saw the entryway shoe cabinet stuffed with her high heels. I froze where I stood. Just then, James' WhatsApp message popped up on my phone. "The company suddenly sent me on a business trip. Let's postpone moving in until next month." At the same time, I saw Serene's post from ten minutes earlier. "Having a caring big brother is the best. He even changed the bedsheets to my favorite pink by himself." The attached photo showed James making the bed for her. Only then did I finally understand that his so-called obsession with personal space had only ever applied to me.

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."

I have an ability in which I can see the countdown to someone's emotional departure. The day Dad's countdown hits zero, he leaves behind divorce papers and abandons Mom and me. The day my best friend's countdown hits zero, she finally dumps her jerk of a boyfriend. I'm always terrified of seeing a countdown appear above Levi Hammond's head. But thankfully, seven years into our marriage, his head is still clear. I am thankful every day that I married a good man. However, when he picks me up from work last month, I look up and see bright red text burning into my vision. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] That's less than two years from now. My heart clenches, and I frantically search for answers in my head. Have I done something wrong? Has he changed his mind? Things don't fall into place until our anniversary, when we run into his intern, Belinda Manning, outside his office building during a torrential downpour. She's soaked to the skin, but she still has a bright smile on her face. Levi hands her a pack of tissues to dry off, his face unreadable. However, in that instant, the countdown suddenly jumps. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] The number of days has dropped by more than 300. The sound of rain is deafening in my ears. But I know now that I have found the reason for it.

In the fifth year of loving Gabriel, he inherited his late brother’s title as Vampire Lord— along with his brother’s widow, Chloe, the former Blood Queen, and, by blood and law, my kin-by-covenant. Every time he returned from her chambers, Gabriel would hold me gently and whisper, “Isabella, Chloe is only my Chosen Consort. Once she carries and delivers the Scion of the Blazetooth Coven, I will bind myself to you through a Blood Bond.” He said it was the only condition his family demanded for him to ascend as Vampire Lord. During the six months after we returned to Blazetooth Coven, he answer her summons a hundred times. At first, once a month. Then once a week. And eventually, every single night. On the hundredth night I stayed awake waiting for him, Chloe finally conceived. The news arrived together with another announcement— Gabriel and Chloe would soon be bound by Blood. My son looked up at me, confused and innocent. “Mom… didn’t they say Dad would form a Blood Bond with the Blood Queen he loves? Why hasn’t he come to take us home yet?” “Because,” I said softly, brushing my hand through his hair, “the Blood Queen he loves was never your mother.” “But that’s all right,” I added. “I’ll take you home. Our own home.” What Gabriel never realized was this— as the only daughter of a reigning Vampire King, I had never cared for the title of Blood Queen of Blazetooth Coven at all.

I put on a wedding dress six times. Six times, I was left standing at the ceremony. The first time, Leah, the girl Cade always paid extra attention to, threw a tantrum and ran away from home. He abandoned a room full of guests and drove out of the city in the middle of the night to find her. The second time, Leah came down with a fever. He sat by her bed for three days and three nights straight. ... The sixth time, Leah wanted to go on a date with Daniel Carter and insisted Cade come along to vet him. Once again, he left me behind. Before the seventh ceremony, I was diagnosed with cancer. Late stage. When Cade came to see me, I begged him with red eyes. "I'm dying. Just this once, please don't leave me again. Okay?" Before I could finish, Leah's assistant came running in, out of breath. "Mr. Russell, Leah's engagement is today and she's so nervous she can barely function. She wants you to come be with her." Cade didn't hesitate for a second. He turned to me. "Celine, being mad is one thing, but don't go cursing yourself." "Go wait for me at the ceremony. I'll be right back." For the first time, I asked the question I'd been hiding for three years, too afraid to say out loud. "Cade, do you really love Leah that much?" Cade blinked, then shook his head firmly. "Celine, I don't love Leah." "But she saved my life. I made her a promise back then. Until she was truly settled, whatever she needed, I'd be there." "Now that it's out in the open, stop being upset. Once Leah's wedding is finalized, the promise is done. After that, it's just you and me." So Cade did love me after all. He just assumed we had all the time in the world. That I'd be standing there in my wedding dress, same spot, waiting for him to come back. Just like the first six times. But this time, I wasn't going to the ceremony to wait for him.

Clarence, the Vampire Prince, fell for me the moment he laid eyes on me. And I fell for him just as hard, just as hopelessly. I accepted his Embrace. The whole dark world knew he loved me more than life itself. He branded the rune of our blood bond directly over his heart. That lasted five centuries. Then I got the video from his new blood doll—a human stripper named Seraphina. She was sprawled naked in his lap, fresh bite marks dotting her throat. Using her own blood, she’d painted a crude sigil right beside the sacred rune meant only for me. And my mate had let her. “Clarence says my young blood is the only thing that makes him feel alive anymore,” she purred. “He says you’re a dead fish in bed, darling Molly. Time for the new generation to take over.” I didn't bother to reply. My fingers were steady as I contacted an ancient witch. “I need a glamour,” I said, my voice even and low. “A perfect human shell. One that will hide everything—my scent, my trail. All of it.”

The seventh time I planned to register for marriage with Piero Conrad, he didn't show up again. I was about to text him and ask when he would arrive when I stumbled upon his childhood friend's post. [Celebrating the 999th day since marrying my dear, from the past to the future, it's always been you.] The video showed a marriage certificate, with Piero's name listed as the husband. The registration date was May 20, three years ago. I realized that was why he never showed up those seven times. He was already married to someone else.

My girlfriend, Natalie Whitcombe, was the heiress to a wealthy family. Yet, she still took my salary and insisted that we save every penny together so we could eventually run away and start a new life. She bought me only discounted items close to their expiration dates, picked up clothes her neighbors no longer wanted for me to wear, and bought me the cheapest version of everything. Meanwhile, I turned down a high-paying out-of-town job assignment just to stay by her side. I even secretly worked part-time at a restaurant after my regular shifts, hoping to earn a little extra just to save more money. Unfortunately, I eventually ran into Natalie at that very restaurant. The woman who was always telling me we needed to save money had just spent tens of millions to reserve the entire restaurant for her childhood sweetheart, Ewan Somerset, to celebrate his birthday. Then, she even announced that Ewan was her fiancé in front of everyone. Ewan smiled. "If I'm your fiance, what does that make Sylvan Joffre? I heard he's been working himself to the bone at all sorts of part-time jobs every day, saving money so he can elope with you." "I'm just fooling around with him," Natalie said nonchalantly while withdrawing every last cent from my salary account. "It's not my fault that he was stupid enough to take it seriously. This is everything he saved over five years. Consider this a tip and split it among everyone." I received a hundred dollars from my own savings before the cheering crowd pushed me aside. Then, my phone pinged with a text notification from Natalie. "Babe, I'm standing in line to buy discounted goods right now. I'm sorry you've had to struggle alongside me. Once we've saved a million, we'll run away together." However, I would never believe her lies ever again. So, I texted my supervisor, "I'll accept the assignment. I don't care if I never come back."

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.]

I spend three years in prison taking the fall for Dwight Reed, the precious assistant of my hospital director wife, Gretchen Payne. On the day I am released, the first thing I see is yet another Medical Malpractice Liability Acknowledgment. "Sign it, Dustin. I want you to take the blame for this incident, too. Dwi has a bright future ahead of him. He can't have a stain on his record." Gretchen shoves a pen into my hand. "You've already served time. So, one more charge isn't going to make a difference." When I don't budge, she clicks her tongue impatiently. "Dustin, you're a convicted felon. You should be grateful for the chance to take the fall for Dwi! It's only five years! "Don't push your luck. Or is this about money? In that case, name your price!" I look at Dwight, who's sitting in the car with his arm around her waist, and let out a silent, bitter chuckle. My hand tightens around the late-stage leukemia diagnosis in my pocket. Gretchen, how am I supposed to serve five years when I only have seven days left to live?

When my stepsister took my bedroom, my birthday party, and the sewing case my mother had left me, my father told me to be generous. A Moretti daughter could afford it, he said. My brother and Luca took me to a bakery that night. Between them, they bought the biggest strawberry cake in the window. “You still have us,” Luca promised. For nine years, I believed him. Then, just before our wedding, Matteo bought back my mother's missing pendant, and Luca found the bridal coat she'd made for me before she died. I thought they understood what those things meant. Until Valentina came downstairs wearing both. “I only wanted to see how it felt,” she said, her eyes filling. “I've never really belonged here.” My brother stepped between us before I could speak. Luca reached for my hand, already preparing to ask me to be kind. “You're going to be my wife, Emilia. She just needs to feel safe.” He loved me. I knew that. What I no longer knew was whether being loved by him would ever mean being chosen when it mattered. That evening, I canceled the wedding and accepted a job at my mother's struggling couture house in Paris. By the time the future Don came looking for his bride, I had returned the family ring—and left him no wedding to save.

My sister Kira and I had shared one body since birth, each controlling it for half the year. Even so, my CEO boyfriend Aiden loved me more than life itself. He built me a glass-domed garden where it was always spring so I could experience the seasons I slept through, tattooed my name over his heart, and promised, “You’re the only one I love.” I believed him. Yet our wedding was postponed eighteen times in six months. Before every wedding date, I was caught in an accident. Each time, I was badly injured but never killed. After I woke from the eighteenth accident, my private doctor told me my soul had suffered too much damage. When Kira woke in three days, I would disappear for good. I stumbled home in a daze and overheard my father talking to Aiden. “Eighteen accidents are too many. What if you really hurt Roxy?” “I calculated the risks in every accident,” Aiden said calmly. “None of them was supposed to kill her. How else was I supposed to keep postponing the wedding until Kira woke?” Tears blurred my vision. “As you wish.” Three days later, Kira woke as usual, and I never woke again. But after I died, Aiden went mad with regret.