Independence Melodramatic Short Stories & Novels

[The story about my son cutting ties with us is all an act. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no way my daughter would have willingly handed over the money!] During the long holiday weekend, I was killing time at my desk when I randomly clicked on a Reddit post. Maybe it was because I also had a younger brother who had cut ties with the family. The night he slammed the door and left, my parents seemed to age ten years overnight. From that day on, I became their only source of support. Every month, I send them five hundred dollars for living expenses. Even when I wasn’t feeling well, I forced myself to work. Meanwhile, the post kept updating. [I raised her for over ten years. What's wrong with spending some of her money? Her brother is still short of fifty thousand dollars for the down payment on his house. We need the money before the holiday ends.] I wanted to keep reading, but my manager called me into a meeting. That evening, while we were having dinner, Mom spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I need to discuss something with you, sweetheart…” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason, the last line from that post flashed through my mind. [I'll just tell her the business is in debt and that we need her money. She's always been a good child. She'll surely do what I ask.] “Mom… you and Dad aren’t in debt, are you?”

When Lilian, a company janitor, discovered an abandoned infant in the restroom, she took my daughter and me to court. In the courtroom, she had screamed in frustration and rage, “Gabrielle’s daughter is nothing but a cheap tramp! “She toyed with my son like a fallback guy. After that, she got pregnant, refused to take responsibility, and dumped that baby in a restroom like it was garbage. That was a living, breathing human being! “Those two women are cold, heartless monsters!” Lilian’s son, Raymond, looked like a pure-hearted lover who had been toyed with and said with teary eyes, “Trinity slept with anyone who gave her the time of day. I looked the other way while hoping she’d eventually be mature and settle down. “But who knew she’d be ruthless enough to kill her own baby?! She’s a monster!” The live broadcast of the trial immediately exploded with outrage. [These rich people are absolutely disgusting! How could they give birth and throw the baby in the trash like that?!] [That’s child abandonment! She belongs in prison!] There were plenty of harsh comments. However, everyone was completely stunned when I produced Trinity’s medical examination report.

On the eve of our mating ceremony, Asher, my Alpha-to-be, slung his arm around his childhood sweetheart, Selena. “If I had never been with such a hot Selena,” he said, “I think I would regret it for the rest of my life.” "Ella, grant us one night. After tonight, I will be forever faithful to you. You'll be Silver Pine Pack's irreplaceable Luna." I stared at him for a moment, seeing he was serious, and nodded my agreement. He swept Selena into his arms and walked into the forest. As he passed by me, he smirked. "Tonight, Ella, you're free to find another wolf too. I won't mind." "No need to look far," I replied evenly, turning toward the figure waiting in the shadows. Lucas, Alpha of the Black Stone Pack, our rivals... and my first love who ended before it truly began. "Alpha Lucas," I whispered, meeting his intense gaze. "Tonight, make me yours... please."

I am an infamous pilot in Gradenburg whom everyone calls a jinx. In the past six years of my career, every time I had to fly a plane, it either started raining heavily or became terribly foggy. Eventually, passengers started avoiding my flights when booking their tickets, and the airline company pulled me off its flagship route. Nonetheless, I refuse to believe that I'm that cursed. It isn't until the 99th time that my flight is delayed that I overhear some people talking in the break room. "Mrs. Zayner can't fly again today?" Another person lets out a mocking laugh. "She seriously still thinks that she just has rotten luck. Little does she know, all the extreme weather she's experienced is actually interference by Mr. Zayner as he pleases his mistress. "She wants rain? He'll call for a rainstorm. She wants to see dark clouds? He'll do it for her. His mistress' happiness is certainly more important than whether his wife can actually fly!" Amid the scornful laughter that rings out, I clutch the 99th disciplinary notice I've received for flight delays so far, feeling my entire body go cold. Just last night, Samuel Zayner was tending to the injury on my wrist I got when a passenger threw their luggage at me. In a low voice, he comforted me, saying, "The weather isn't something anyone can control. Don't blame yourself for it." However, right now, I check through my flight records from the past six years. Every single delay coincides with a social media post from the same woman. "I suddenly feel like admiring a rainstorm." "The summer sun is just too glaring. How I wish black clouds would darken the skies over Gradenburg." Without fail, Samuel has liked every post. As it turns out, the bad weather that has kept me trapped for the past few years is nothing more than a little flirting game played between him and another woman. I stare at the flight assignment roster for three days later and let out a soft laugh. Then, I submit a route transfer request. From now on, whether it's rainy or sunny in Gradenburg has nothing to do with me anymore.

Ten minutes before the IPO, my lower body started burning with intense pain. The pain was so bad that my knees buckled and I fell from the stairs on the third floor. I hit my forehead, which started bleeding, and fresh blood dripped into my eyes. As I convulsed on the ground, my hands covered my crotch as my skin felt like it was being fried in boiling oil. My fiancée, Yvette James, came over in her high heels and kicked me in the thigh. "What's with all the pretense? It's just half a bottle of ointment poured down your pants." Her bestie, Henry Curtis, had his phone held toward me as he livestreamed the situation. He was bent over from laughing too hard. "Check this out, fam! This penniless loser is burning from the waist down! It's too funny!" I could hardly breathe from the pain, and I begged Yvette to get me an ambulance. Yvette rolled her eyes and pushed the camera into my face. "Henry is targeting 100,000 viewers for this live stream! Can you scream louder? Don't be a buzzkill! That thing between your legs is just like a toothpick. That ointment might give you a growth spurt, so you should thank me for it." My lower body had gone numb from the pain, and I saw the comments section ridiculing me. I stopped begging for help as I stared coldly at Yvette while giving the orders to pull her funds. "The wedding is off. Be prepared for your company's bankruptcy."

In seven years together, the words Theo said to me most weren't "I love you." They were "Be reasonable." In our first year of dating, his neighbor Sophia took a liking to my wolf fang necklace and wanted to borrow it for a few days. Theo said, "Joey, be reasonable. She's young, let her wear it." In the third year, Sophia borrowed my brand-new car. Theo said, "She'll get over the novelty in a few days. Cut her some slack." In the seventh year, the day he finally became Alpha, Theo gave me a moonstone ring blessed by the Moon Goddess. Sophia clung to his arm, her voice sweet and wheedling. "Theo, that's a moonstone ring. I've never gotten to wear one before." Then she glared at me, her smile dripping with malice. "Joey, I want the ring." Theo leaned in and murmured, "Joey, be reasonable. It's just a ring." I took it off without hesitation and handed it to Sophia. Just then, a text came through on my phone. "The position is yours whenever you're ready. Just tell me when you're coming to London, and I'll pick you up."

Caleb Finley tells me he wants to have a child with me during the year when our love is at its strongest. I agree, but that very same night, I fake my death and make my escape, becoming his first love who meets an early death. Six years later, the system seeks me out, on the verge of a breakdown. "Ms. Rockworth, Mr. Finley told me to let you know that your son has just entered the operating room. Do you want to visit him?" "I never gave birth to his child," I answer calmly. The system breaks down even more. "He lost his mind and suddenly turned evil on the night you faked your death. To maintain the balance of the world, we gave him a child who has both your genes. "Now that he has completely gone insane, he told me to tell you that you must meet with him today. If you don't, he'll remove your son's oxygen tube."

Brandon Hawthorne said if I wanted to marry him, I had to prove I was tough enough to be a Hawthorne. He took my bank cards, ditched me in a city I'd never been to, and made me figure out how to get home alone. When my fever hit 104°F, he still refused to let the family doctor through the door. Instead, I had to smile through dinner with a house full of Hawthorne relatives while I could barely stay on my feet. And every time I finally asked Brandon for help, he looked at me like I'd failed him. "You can't even handle something this simple. How are you supposed to be my wife?" But when his childhood friend, Patty Rowan, got blisters from her shoes, he picked her up and carried her away in front of everyone. She got a headache in the middle of the night, and he left me alone in the hospital to take the family doctor to her. I asked him why. He frowned. "Patty's fragile. And she's not the one trying to become a Hawthorne." Then came our engagement party. I accidentally ate peanuts. My throat started closing. I couldn't breathe. Brandon grabbed my EpiPen and locked me in the lounge. "This is your final test. If you want to marry me, tough it out." Then Patty called. She had a paper cut. Brandon immediately left with the doctor. "Hold out for ten minutes." I lost track of time. Right before everything went dark, I saw Brandon come back with Patty tucked close beside him. She had a Band-Aid on her finger. Through the haze, I heard the disappointment in his voice. "Patty was bleeding, and she didn't even cry. Are you seriously pretending to be dead?" Then came the final blow. "You failed the test. You're not ready to become a Hawthorne."

My boyfriend, Julian Vance, always said that people in relationships shouldn't use their partners as emotional dumping grounds. So he set a rule. I got ten minutes a day to unload on him. He said his job wore him out and he hoped I'd understand. I agreed. I even thought he simply had strong boundaries. Then my grandmother died, the woman who had raised me on her own. I came back from the funeral home still gripping the reading glasses she never got to put on. All I wanted was for Julian to hold me for a while. He sighed instead. "It isn't that I won't stay with you. It's that you've used up your quota for today." I asked through tears, "Can't today be an exception?" He said, "Once there's a first exception, there's a second. I have a meeting in the morning, and you need to learn to process things on your own." But at two that morning, the woman he had never gotten over called him in tears, saying her boyfriend had dumped her. Julian threw on a coat and talked her through it on the balcony until dawn. I watched him through the glass for a long time. So the ten minutes weren't his boundary. They were only the ceiling he had set for me. In that case, I would stop taking up his time. I turned around, packed away my grandmother's things, and left my key on the table. Whoever he gave his time to from then on had nothing to do with me.

Ashton Rivers catches his wife, Jezebel Vesper, on a date with her 99th lover, Damien Grimshaw, and is then "accidentally" pushed down the stairs, causing his eardrums to tear and leaving him deaf in one ear. This is the fifth time an "accident" like this has happened. The previous times involved a broken right hand, a nearly-blinded left eye, and more. Every time, the price Ashton pays is excruciating. However, this time, Ashton doesn't make a scene anymore. He goes to the hospital alone for treatment without any unnecessary drama or accusations. This is all because of the humiliating agreement that Jezebel's grandmother, Lilith Thorne, forced him to sign eight years ago when he married Jezebel. The agreement says that Ashton will receive 100 million dollars if Jezebel gives birth to a child within a year, and 50 million dollars if she gives birth to a child within three years. But if the couple still doesn't have any children in the eighth year, then Ashton is no longer allowed to interfere with Jezebel's extramarital affairs. It's the eighth year this year. On the day Ashton is discharged from the hospital, everyone in Queen City waits eagerly to see Ashton make a fool of himself like he did the previous four times when he went to settle accounts with Damien like a deranged madman.

After I fail my mission, the system grants me three days to say goodbye. For the first time, I become the perfect husband in Kristen Snowe's eyes. I stop waiting up for her when she doesn't come home. I stop fighting with her over the money she keeps giving to her childhood friend, Jake Leigh. On the first day, she scoffs at me. "If you'd acted like this from the beginning, I wouldn't feel so sick and tired of you!" On the second day, she starts to get suspicious. "That's it? You're not mad? You're not up to something, are you?" By the third day, she's the one falling apart. "Honey… Why aren't you jealous anymore?" I smile. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted?"

My family had always prioritized fairness, because my brother and sister were twins and would start fighting if our parents so much as showed a hint of favoritism. That was why they always had equal portions for them—one for John, the other for Jane. "What about me?" I asked my mother, only to get yelled at. "Can you stop?! We already have our hands full with your twin siblings!" Later, my father bought a six-seater for our family of five. However, when the family headed out for a trip, the remaining two seats were taken by Jane's pet dog and John's pet cat. As I stood outside gingerly under the rain, Jane glared at me warily while shouldering her dog, while John snorted. "We agreed to be fair. No one gets to take my cat's seat." My father shot me a look of annoyance. "Don't you have better things to do?" I was shivering from the cold, but I smiled at him nonetheless. "Yeah, I won't be joining you guys." After that, I submitted my national athlete application to my counselor, Mr. Ackles. If there was no fairness for me even after twenty years, I had no reason to stay.

"Hello, I want a divorce." In the third year of her marriage, Roxanne Levine decided to file for divorce. But she did so without telling her husband. Across the desk, the lawyer, Nathaniel Shepherd, responded in a formulaic tone after hearing her intent. "If you wish to proceed with a divorce, both parties need to sign the divorce agreement. After that, there will be a one-month cooling-off period before the divorce is finalized. Did your husband not come with you today?" Roxanne paused for a few seconds. "I'll make sure he signs it." "Very well. I'll draft a divorce agreement for you."

The year I was at my most starry-eyed, I gave up my chance to study overseas. Over my parents' furious objections I married my boyfriend and took in the abandoned baby he'd picked up off the side of the road. From that day on I poured everything I had into that household and into raising that child. Thirty years of it. And just when our son was grown and settled and I thought I might finally get to breathe, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The treatment cost a fortune. I was about to reassure my husband and my son that I had the money. Instead, they got angry. "What do you mean, your money? That's this family's money. This disease is a bottomless pit. You could throw everything we have into it and never hear it land." "Mom, Dad's right. I'm going to need money for years to come. Don't be so selfish." So the two of them took me home by force, kept me on painkillers for ten years, and waited for me to stop breathing. After I died, my husband cheerfully moved the woman he'd always loved into my house. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day my boyfriend stood in my doorway holding an abandoned baby and asked me whether we could keep him.

In order to stay by Samuel Hudson's side, I decide to give up on the one-billion-dollar reward offered by the system. At the same time, I've used up all of the luck I've accumulated just to trade for a chance to fully heal Samuel's legs. But the price I need to pay is that I have to bind my life force to Samuel's devotion toward me. If he cheats on me physically or emotionally, my soul will be extracted from my body forcibly, leading to my eventual destruction. The moment I go through with the binding process, I find myself hesitating for a moment. But the sight of Samuel kneeling on one knee while proposing to me lovingly makes me believe him. I believe him with my whole heart when he promises to stay devoted to me forever. Because of this, I'm content with being the woman who will endure everything for her lover's sake. So, I tap the "confirm" button firmly. For the next seven years, Samuel and I continue to love each other as passionately as ever. Together, we've overcome countless challenges and survived many low tides together. But on our wedding anniversary, while I'm making soup for Samuel in the kitchen, I begin coughing violently all of a sudden. Soon, I spit out a huge glob of dark blood. Then, I look down to see my body starting to become transparent. In fact, my fingers can no longer touch the glass on the counter. At the same time, alarm bells begin ringing in my mind. [Warning! Samuel's affection level has dropped below the critical threshold. Destruction protocol is now activated.]

In the fifth year of my marriage with Lionel Kruger, I suddenly develop an ability to see everyone's ranking system. To my mom, I'm ranked first. To my best friend, I'm ranked second after her daughter. Even the owner of the breakfast cart in the neighborhood views me as his sixth favorite person in his life. Delighted, I rush off to see Lionel's ranking system. His mom ranks first, whereas Natalie Cooper is ranked second. That's me! I'm ranked second! That piece of news makes me smile throughout the day. That is, until I see an unfamiliar name taking up the sixth spot—Lindsay Sloan. I tell myself that it's fine. I'm ranked second, while she's ranked sixth. But the next few days, I witness Lindsey's name climbing slowly up the ranks to the point she's almost reaching my rank. That evening, Lionel comes home and hugs me as usual. "I missed you." As I stare at the ranking system above his head, I notice that Lindsay, who's now ranked third, is slowly climbing upward as he speaks. "Lionel, who's Lindsey Sloan?" At that moment, Lionel freezes up while hugging me.

The day before my period, I found a note on my fiancé's phone. [Her period starts tomorrow. I already packed pads and painkillers in her bag.] I smiled. It was such a small thing, but it felt thoughtful. The next day, a dull ache twisted in my lower stomach. Pale and uncomfortable, I dug through my crossbody bag. Nothing. Dark red blood stained my pants. Students pointed behind me and whispered with awkward laughs. I figured he'd just forgotten at the last minute. Then the new intern teacher posted on social media. [Just started working, and my supervising teacher is literally the sweetest! He even got me pads and painkillers. This period has been pain-free!] The photo showed a pack of pads, an ibuprofen tablet, and a mug of ginger tea. The painkillers were mine—the ones I'd kept stocked at home for years because of my cramps. The pads were the only brand my skin could tolerate. I turned off my phone and stared at the engagement ring on my finger for a long time. Then I stood up and headed to the principal's office to apply for the overseas teacher exchange program. Seven years. He still couldn't remember my cycle. And now, he never would have to.

I'm a family law attorney. My specialty is winning divorce cases for other people. I never imagined that one day, I'd be drafting my own divorce papers. For six years of marriage, Adrian read to me for ten minutes every night. He said it was our little marriage ritual. That was until I came home early from a business trip and heard his voice coming from my female neighbor’s apartment next door. "Vivi, which chapter do you want to hear tonight?" I stood outside her door, still holding the birthday cake I'd bought for him. I turned around, went home, opened my laptop, and went through our marital asset inventory from top to bottom. Later, Adrian knelt outside my law firm, his voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable. He said, "Serena, I was just helping her fall asleep. I never touched her." I set the voice recorder in front of him, and out came words he'd said himself. "She'll never leave me. She's too rational, which actually makes her the easiest to manipulate." I smiled. "Adrian, do you think the judge will find me easy to manipulate too?"

When I was reborn, returning back to the day of filling out the mate registration form, I decided to write my sister Sophia Harrington's name on the form. I would help her achieve her dreams with Adrian Northgate in this lifetime. Without waiting for Adrian to ask, I gave the wedding dress to my sister ahead of time and placed the ring that symbolized our mate bond into her hands. I did not argue or make a fuss. Instead, I facilitated every opportunity for them to spend time together. When he took my sister to fight in the southern territories, I quietly packed everything up and went to university in the northern grasslands. This was because, in my previous life, I devoted myself to caring for our family. Yet, after Adrian was promoted to the pack's first warrior, he and our son knelt before me, begging me to dissolve our mate bond so that he could fulfill his love for Sophia. Living this life again, I decided not to become mates with Adrian. I wanted to pursue my dreams — to study at the Northern Grassland Werewolf University, become a medical doctor, and live the free life I had always desired!

During an avalanche, I risk my life to save my girlfriend, Naomi Sutton. I end up losing a leg and an eye. On the day I'm discharged from the hospital, she tells me, "I've done my part by taking care of you this whole time. There's no way I'll spend the rest of my life with a cripple. You understand why I need to do this, right, Caleb?" I've already resigned myself to a life of constant darkness when Zoey Rivers shows up. She doesn't mind that I'm disabled. She gently heals all of my wounds. Following our decision to get married, I start going through our belongings to prepare for our upcoming move to our new marital home. Unexpectedly, I stumble across Zoey's backup phone in the house. I find a secondary social media account that Zoey has been using to track the moving journey of her sister's battle against a crippling illness. The latest update reads, "I'm about to get married. Once it's official, I'll get him to donate a kidney to my sister at once, and she'll be saved." Posted with the caption is a photo of Zoey with a woman lying on a hospital bed—Naomi. At that very moment, the door opens behind me. "What's the matter, Caleb? Since you're at home, why didn't you answer me when I called for you?"