Tragic Love Family Emotions Short Stories & Novels

"Moon Goddess, I'd like to go home," says Seraphina Jarett. The Will of the Moon Goddess speaks to her in her mind. She doesn't reply in any form of language. Instead, it is a calm and saddened torrent of consciousness. "Alright, my child. Your mission is about to be completed. In a week, your soul can leave this place." The usually authoritative voice pauses for a few seconds, which is a rare occurrence. Unable to understand my choice, she says, "My child, you have a mate who loves you deeply and sees you as the light of his life. Your pup puts you first in everything. Isn't this your home now? They are your family… your pack." When Seraphina hears the word "family", her gaze lands on the Moon Pool that is in the middle of the room. At the moment, the pool is showing the Alpha of the Blackwood pack, Caelum Blackwood, and his son, Liam Blackwood, touching down in the pack's private airport.

In the seventh year of living apart from my wife, Sharon Shaw, I come to see her, only to have the key break off in the lock again. I hurriedly call her, and she says, "Maybe you grabbed the wrong key again. Go to a hotel and get some rest. I'll open the door when I get back." I look down at the sticker on my key and freeze. I didn't bring the wrong key. The only other possibility is that she has changed the locks. Before I can dwell on it, my dad, Ryan Jarquin, suddenly calls me. He laughs merrily and says, "Of course Sharon isn't home. She came to visit me first thing this morning with a whole bunch of things." My best friend, Steven Morgan, calls me next. He sounds drunk over the phone. "She's getting her nails done with my girlfriend right now. Women are such a hassle." After that, I get a call from my sister, Greta Jarquin. She says, "Sharon is such a busy woman. She finally found some time today to help me with an investment." My mind goes blank. What they don't know is that five minutes ago, the security guard at the entrance told me the owner of this unit had just come home. I don't ask any more questions. Instead, I call a locksmith. Suddenly, I really want to know what secret my entire family is hiding from me.

I'm finally pregnant after five years of marriage. I initially want Morgan Holt to accompany me to the hospital so I can surprise him, but he stoically tells me that he hates hospitals. I can understand and accommodate that. Then, he surprises me—he accompanies his new junior to the hospital for a medical checkup. At that moment, I know our relationship is over. When I bid him farewell, I say, "She's your true love's younger sister, right? I can understand why you've transferred your love to her. I wish you two well." His eyes redden. "I can't live without you."

My mother is an extreme misogynist, even toward me, her own daughter. She's wanted to kill me since the day I was born. She hits me if I wear lip gloss, wear a dress, or even get close to my father. Before sitting for my SATs, she spreads rumors about me trying to seduce my father. Ultimately, she pushes me so hard that I jump from the 15th floor. This pleases her to no end.

"Are you sure you want this?" The witch slid the vial across the table. "Once I cast the unbinding spell, your Fated Mate connection will dissolve over ten days. On the tenth day, it's permanent. No reversals." I didn't hesitate. "Your name?" She picked up her pen. "Mara Voss." Her hand froze. Everyone in New York's vampire community knew that name. Conrad Levin — the Prince of the New York Dominion, an eight-hundred-year-old monster who had never shown a flicker of attachment to anything — had three years ago announced to the entire supernatural world that he'd found his Fated Mate. A human girl carrying the rarest blood type in existence. Golden blood. Her name was Mara Voss. I held out my wrist. The witch began her work. I opened my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Prague. Departing in exactly ten days. This time, Conrad would never find me.

During a family gathering, my daughter drove her rideable toy car straight into me and shattered my leg because she wanted to stand up for her live-in manny, Wilson Smith. As I lay on the ground in agony, she glared at me and said, "You're not my dad! Wilson takes care of me. He's kind to me. Mom and I both like him!" From where I had fallen, I looked up and saw Wilson standing at the center of the crowd, surrounded by smiles and admiration. At that moment, a bitter realization settled over me. I mattered less than a manny to my own family. I soon filed for divorce. Then, I signed up for a community revitalization initiative and spent the next twenty years helping struggling communities build better lives. My family did not need me, but somewhere else in the world, there were people who did.

After six months overseas, I had finally secured a hundred billion contract with a partner in Aurelune. I returned to the home my fiancee, Rebecca Holden, and I had bought for our married life, only for the smart lock to keep repeating, “Unrecognized visitor. Please step away.” After ten failed attempts to recognize my face, the system automatically alerted security. A security guard struck the back of my knee with his baton. Pain shot through my leg as I crumpled to the ground. Through gritted teeth, I explained that this was my home. The guard looked me up and down before he scoffed and said, “You can’t even get through the front door! How do you have the nerve to pass yourself off as Ms. Holden’s husband? “Everyone knows she’s head over heels for Mr. McGraw. She picks him up and drops him off every day. She showers him with sports cars and luxury watches. As if her husband would look as broke as you do!” His words knocked the wind out of me. For a moment, I could only stare at him. Then, I saw my childhood friend, Kirk McGraw, step out of the passenger seat of a luxury car that had just pulled up. Rebecca got out with his suit jacket draped over her shoulders. She lifted his son out of the back seat. The front door slid open automatically as Kirk approached. An electronic voice announced, “Door unlocked. Welcome home, Mr. McGraw.”

In my fifth year of serving the Moon Goddess on behalf of the pack, the mother-and-child necklace around my neck suddenly shattered. It had been passed down from one Luna to the next, carrying the bond between mother and child. When the mother's half breaks, it means the child is dead. Something had happened to my daughter. I gathered the broken pieces in my hands and saw a vision of her final moments. She lay facedown on the ground, her body covered in wounds, repeating the same words over and over: "Mom, it hurts so much." I could hear the werewolves around her laughing. "Poor thing. The Luna's been gone for years, and things have only gotten worse for her daughter. Now she's been poisoned with wolfsbane, and she can't even get the antidote." "That's what she gets for not being able to have pups. She can't give the Alpha an heir, and she can't even keep her mate, Mark, interested in her." "The Alpha's bloodline can't be allowed to die out. If she can't give him an heir, then naturally, that responsibility falls to Faye. She has Alpha blood too, after all." "Honestly, the wolfsbane is a blessing. Mark is the son-in-law the Alpha chose himself. Once she's gone, he can take Faye as his mate and give the pack an heir with Alpha blood." The voices cut off, and a chill ran through me. Five years ago, for the sake of the pack, I'd agreed to my mate Lucas's request and secluded myself on Moon Goddess Mountain to serve the Moon Goddess. He'd promised to take care of our only daughter. By the time I came home, I'd be a grandmother. Instead, he used her inability to have pups as an excuse and turned a blind eye while Mark slept with Faye, Lucas's niece and the daughter of his widowed sister-in-law, Mina. When my daughter was poisoned with wolfsbane, he stood by and watched her die. I felt her wolf fading, along with the pup inside her. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I raised my hand and shattered the crystal pillar. It had taken five years of offerings and was almost ready

Every time Millie Johnson, my daughter, returns home from playing with my best friend's dog at his place during summer break, she brings home an expensive doll. I have no choice but to pinch pennies and save up for a gift for my best friend after seeing how much Millie loves the dolls. I return home earlier than usual one day and overhear Millie talking excitedly into her smartwatch from her hiding spot in her room. "Mission accomplished, Mommy! Daddy didn't suspect a thing!" I am momentarily stunned. I am convinced that I have misheard, but then I hear Millie ask for a reward. "You're taking your wedding anniversary photos with Papa today, right? Can I come along, too? I'm so sick of eating plain pasta with Daddy every day, Mommy!" I freeze, my breath catching as I snatch the smartwatch from her. I happen to see the photo that has just been sent over. Sophie Johnson, my wife—who is supposed to be on her janitorial duty this morning—is actually wearing a pure white wedding dress. I stare at the screen, my hands trembling uncontrollably as my heart skips a beat. Millie tosses her doll aside and hurriedly tells me off, "You can't just snoop on me, Daddy! I'll be heading out to play with the doggy later, so don't bother us!" She excitedly peers out the window and waits for her ride after saying that. I stand frozen in place, staring at the apology message Sophie sent just a minute earlier. "I'm so sorry, Steven. It's all my fault for blowing the business and making you and Millie suffer so much all these years. I swear I'll make it up to you, Steven." I feel a sharp pang in my chest, leaving me barely able to breathe. I don't want to confront Sophie yet, so I simply trail the car that has come to pick Millie up instead.

After my beloved boyfriend dies in a fire, my sister marries a rich man. So, I marry her husband, Jason Grant's father. We go from being sisters to being mother and daughter-in-law. We're still a family, aren't we? Later, Jason pins me to a corner while breathing heavily. "Money is all you want, right? I can give you everything he can. Wouldn't it be much better for you to be with me than with a paralyzed old man?" Oh, he's got this all wrong. Money isn't what I want. His life is what I want.

At my engagement party, my fiancé and my parents had prepared a table filled with mystery boxes. My younger sister, Elena Hayes, wrapped her arms around my fiancé, Adrian Whitmore, and sweetly pleaded, “There are so many mystery boxes. Madison can’t possibly open them all. Can I pick three too?” Adrian affectionately ruffled Elena’s hair. “You never change. You’ve known your sister and me for so long, yet you still act like a child.” Our parents, Charles and Victoria Hayes, smiled indulgently. “Our Elena has always been lucky. Maybe she’ll win something amazing.” Elena eagerly grabbed three mystery boxes before anyone else could stop her. She opened the first one. “A ten-day honeymoon trip to Valehaven.” The second one. “All the cash gifts from Madison’s wedding.” And the third. “The Whitmore family’s heirloom emerald bracelet.” When I opened my own mystery boxes, every single card contained the same message: “Better luck next time.” Elena draped an arm around my shoulders with a smug smile. “Looks like you’re still as unlucky as ever, Madison. “A bet’s a bet! I’m going to Valehaven with your fiancé instead. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I won’t let some pretty girl from overseas steal him away.” I stood frozen, convinced they were playing some cruel joke on me. Then Adrian spoke. “Madison, a bet’s a bet. “Take off the bracelet Grandma gave you and give it to Elena.”

A great white shark appeared during our holiday to the beach. My wife, Eunice Fuller, was a marine animal trainer. She deliberately cut our daughter Violet’s finger and used her blood to lure the shark away. She did that to save her first love’s son. By the time I arrived, the surrounding water had turned red with blood. I called Eunice and demanded an explanation. All I got was an impatient outburst. “For God’s sake, the rescue team’s already there! What more do you want? I taught her how to swim. What’s so wrong if I told her to hold off the shark for a little while?” I stared at Violet’s mangled body. My eyes were bloodshot with fury. I should have ended this marriage long ago. I would make every last one of them pay for this.

My grandparents, Timothy Shaw and Dorothy Elmer, show up one day to ask for 30 thousand dollars. In response, my wife, Jade Quinn, shuts the door in my face. She refuses to discuss the topic of a loan or open the door for anyone. All she does is send me a text message that reads, "I earn a fixed salary. How could I possibly come up with 30 thousand dollars on the fly? Don't you have other colleagues and classmates? Just ask them for a loan." I mull over the message as my hand hovers over the study door's knob. Through a crack in the door, I can see her on a video call with a male student named Nicholas Dion. She says to him, "Nicky, I've transferred 200 thousand dollars to your bank account. It's not safe for a young man like you to live in a rented place off-campus. Consider the money a gift from me for you to use as a down payment." My hand freezes in midair, trembling slightly. Just then, the door is opened, and Jade sees me standing outside the door. She offers no explanation and shows no sign of guilt. She simply explains unhurriedly, "I married you and not your entire family, so I'm not letting just anyone mooch off of me. I worked hard to earn my money too." She closes the door in my face. She was a mere inch away from catching my hand in the doorframe, but she showed no hesitation. I clench my hands into fists, understanding abruptly dawning on me. It turns out that our marriage is worth less than 30 thousand dollars to her.

The day before the list of names for guaranteed university admission was announced, a synced note I shared with Bryce Joller for three years suddenly showed a reminder: [Operation: Save Lara Lane] I stared at it for a long moment before tapping on it. [1st: Give Nelly Seagel's spot to Lara.] [2nd: Go to the city where Lara's university is, take care of her, and let her join Joller Group when she graduates.] [3rd: After witnessing Lara get married, marry Nelly.] I stared at those three lines for a long time, unable to believe it. Bryce hated homewreckers the most because his mother was driven to death by one. Thus, over the years, he stayed up late studying with me, shielded me from my classmates’ taunts, and even used the Joller family name he hated most to stand up for me when my stepmother, Marissa York, kicked me out of the house. He supported me through countless nights when I could not hold on anymore. "Nelly, don't you dare break down. As long as I'm here, you're not allowed to give up!" Only now did I realize that Bryce had already chosen someone else to save somewhere along the way.

Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in. My son was three. Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help. If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child. The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me. He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party. When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe." The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my name from Dixie to Estelle. But Vera snatched the phone and laughed so hard she could barely get the words out. "Estelle, seriously? If you're gonna make something up, at least make it believable. You look so broke you probably don't even have fifty bucks. What kidnapper would pick you?" The third time, I called Luca's father, my legal husband. He said he was in a meeting and didn't have time to play games with me. He also said that if I behaved myself, he'd agree to take me home for dinner next week. After the final call ended, I looked at the grinning kidnapper in despair and sent the last two messages of my life. A photo of myself covered in blood. And a short message, every word sincere. [I'm really going to die. In my next life, don't bring me home.]

After Roman Archer and I broke up, he devoted himself to academic research. He had finally become successful. During a television interview, he looked just as confident and high-spirited as he had been back then. The host asked whom he most wanted to share this news with. After a brief silence, he called me. “Celeste, thank you for leaving me. My career is thriving now.” I smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Roman.” He would never know that if I had not left, he would have died.

In the most dangerous seventh month of my twin pregnancy, Adrian invited friends over and threw a welcome-home dinner for Vivian, who had just returned to the country. During a round of truth or dare, someone asked him, "If Serena and Vivian both fell into the water and there was only one life jacket, who would you give it to?" I was in the nursery folding baby clothes when I heard his answer come without a moment's hesitation. "Vivi. Serena's tough. She can swim back on her own." My mother chimed in, "Rena grew up in the countryside. She's tough as nails. But Vivi is delicate. She can't handle that kind of scare." Then my brother, the one I had poured everything into putting through school, laughed too. "My sister does whatever Adrian tells her. Forget a life jacket. You could ask her to donate both kidneys to Vivian and she wouldn't dare say a word." The room went quiet around me, with nothing but the steady thud of kicks against my palm. They didn't know that the doctor had issued a critical-condition notice for severe preeclampsia just the day before: At any moment, my placenta could separate, I could hemorrhage into my brain, or all three of us could die. I needed to be admitted immediately to terminate the pregnancy. That morning, I had brought the diagnosis to Adrian and begged him to take me to the hospital. He had barely glanced at it before frowning and saying, "Vivi's coming home today. Don't ruin the mood with some unlikely complication." Ten years of devotion, and all I got in return was "tough as nails." I signed the divorce papers, uploaded the recording to the cloud, and called the private hospital. "Send an ambulance. I need an emergency C-section. Now." Since they all thought my life was worthless, I would take my two children and walk out of their precious world forever.

After finding out that the city is flourishing with countless opportunities, Florence Chastain drinks far too much out of elation. She begins stumbling toward the home of Gerard Vertes, a widower, in her drunken haze. Even though I have a crush on her, I choose to ignore her. In my previous life, I was worried that Florence might submit to her carnal urges due to intoxication, which might lead to her losing the golden opportunity of moving to the city. So, I rushed over to stop her. But Florence was quick to yank the hem of my shirt while begging me to satisfy her urges. After the wild night, she got pregnant with my child. In order to preserve Florence's reputation, her parents forced her to marry me. After our marriage, Florence was cold and aloof toward me and our child. She'd beat us up from time to time, too. "If not for your busybody tendencies back then, I wouldn't have married a country bumpkin like you! With talents like mine, I'd definitely have made it big in the city!" The daily torment had me physically and mentally strained. In order to make life easier for this family, I borrowed money from various sources just to rent a general store. That way, we'd have steady income. But Florence had the audacity to lock me up at home when our son was down with a high fever. I begged her to save our son, only to get beaten up by her ruthlessly instead. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night Florence is making her way drunkenly toward Gerard's house.

The day before my wedding, I received a message from an unknown number asking me to meet in a hotel room. "I hear you're marrying the Prince's heir tomorrow. "I'll give you nine million dollars. All you have to do is give me the access crest and tell me his whereabouts." I said yes, and I went there that same night. But when I opened the door, I found my fiancé Adrian glaring at me, his triumphant vampire childhood sweetheart beside him. "Adrian, I told you a long time ago. Humans cannot be trusted. "She only pretends to love you. She was after your money all along." My fiancé glared at me, clamped a hand around my wrist, and gritted his teeth. "Why?" But I suddenly laughed. "Because I wanted to see how many more times the two of you were going to test me." When my mother was dying, I asked him for a loan. The sum was nothing to him, and he asked me whether money was the reason I was with him. I worked myself into the ground scraping together money for her treatment, and the strain cost me the baby. Then he decided I had only used the pregnancy to force him into marriage and had never wanted his child. After that the tests kept coming. I explained. I cried. I tried to prove myself. He never actually believed me. "That was the ninth time you and Seraphina tested my love for you. "I'm tired. Let's end this."

On my son’s birthday, my husband had asked his first love to pick our son up from our home. While I stubbornly refused to let him go, a huge fire broke out in the hallway during our standoff. I was struck by falling debris, and blood started streaming from my head. However, my son was unharmed as he lay beneath me. My husband, who was a firefighter, came forward to rescue us. But he handed the only gas mask he had to his first love. “Miss Leia has a weaker constitution. Dad, please get her out first. Mom, wait for the other firefighters to save you!” I watched them leave with a faint, bitter smile. It appeared that they had both forgotten my severe asthma and the fact that I would die without a gas mask.