Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Independence Regret Novels

After Giselle left for Europe, I took her place. I made a blood pact with Julian—the feared vampire lord and CEO of Evernight Biotech. Every night for five years, he pinned me down, kissing every inch of my skin. We became enemies, craving and hating each other. He hated me, believing I schemed to drive Giselle away and stole her place as his mate. I hated him too. Every time he took me, he moaned Giselle’s name. He never even acknowledged me before his clan. Because of my awkward status, my parents—who desperately craved immortality—were mocked by high society. They poured all their toxic resentment onto me. In my past life, on a Blood Moon night, Julian and my parents threw a lavish welcome-home party for Giselle. They left me behind in the unwarded old manor. When rogue vampires broke in, I—a fragile human—was drained dry, along with the unborn half-blood baby in my womb. Meanwhile, my sister was enjoying the blessings of North America's elite. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. It was the exact day Giselle returned. This time, I refuse to beg Julian and my greedy parents for scraps.

After my wife’s attempt to start a business failed, we lost everything. So I started working three jobs just to lighten her burden. When I was up on the thirtieth floor of a high-rise cleaning windows, there was a family celebrating a birthday inside. I looked inside enviously but unsuspectingly found my wife pushing out a cake made out of money to the older woman whose birthday was being celebrated. Through the window, I heard some conversation going on inside. “This is such a hard place to reserve, but Miss Pascal rented the whole floor out for her mother-in-law’s birthday!” “The tips she’s giving out tonight must be worth millions!” Suspended in midair, I nearly forgot how to breathe. What no one knew was that Miss Pascal’s real mother-in-law had just died in the hospital not long ago.

Josie Jackson, who had been cold to me for ten years, suddenly changed her attitude. Not only did she take me on a worldwide trip, but she also personally cooked a lavish dinner for me. I thought our relationship had finally improved, but little did I know, she had put an excessive amount of sleeping pills in the food. I was taken to the hospital, where I was forcibly castrated without any anesthesia. By the time I regained consciousness, I saw Josie and her so-called brother close together. "Josie, you're so good to me! I only mentioned being envious of Andrew's health. I can't believe you actually emasculated him all for me." Josie's expression remained calm. Her eyes were filled with nothing but affection for Alex Carter. "This is what he deserves. If it weren't for him back then, you wouldn't have been in that accident and ended up with a physical disability. "I'm only returning what he took from you." Ten years ago, during an earthquake, I gave up saving Alex and chose to save her instead. So she took all the pain Alex suffered out on me. Since I felt guilty, I endured her torment for ten years. This time, I finally gave up. After finding out I didn't have much time left, I called my mother. "I agree to the heart transplant for Robert."

An hour into my daughter's college-sendoff dinner, Marissa Langley still hadn't arrived. Every one of the hundred-plus calls we made was rejected. Every message she sent back was the same automatic reply: "On my way." My daughter stood up and sat back down five times, head lowered as she twisted the hem of her dress, not knowing how she was supposed to read the line in her speech that said, "Thank you to my parents." When I finally couldn't take it anymore and left the room— I saw Marissa in the banquet hall next door. She was standing shoulder to shoulder with her first love, Adrian Pierce. In front of them was Adrian Pierce's son, whose GPA fell more than a full point and a half short of my daughter's. "Thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising me!" The boy bowed to them. Marissa held Adrian's arm, smiled softly, and gave a gentle nod. Amid the thunderous applause, I stood there watching them for a long time. Suddenly, I felt more tired than I had ever felt in my life. So I turned around and went back to my daughter's table. "She isn't coming, sweetheart. Go onstage and say what you want to say." I reached out, patted my daughter's shoulder, and said softly, "And the thing you asked Dad about before— "I've thought it through. We'll do it your way."

The HR manager slid a severance agreement across the table and said coldly, "You're fired." I froze. "Why?" Just one week ago, my boss had praised me in the company meeting and called me one of the team's most valuable people. The HR manager shrugged. "Ms. Lyttle, you're already 35. You don't have the energy of younger employees anymore, and you're not what you used to be. You no longer fit the company's future." I joined this company when I was 29. Over the past six years, I wrote countless lines of code and worked through more sleepless nights than I could remember. Every time the company faced a major system failure, I led the emergency response and saved it from catastrophic losses. And now they were telling me I was too old and too slow. I laughed in disbelief. "So you've already copied all my experience and skills into an AI, haven't you?" The HR manager paused for a moment before answering confidently, "AI never gets tired, never takes time off, and never asks for a raise. Once the company has an employee like that, why would we keep you?" I looked at her. "Are you sure the AI has learned everything I know?" She smiled. "Absolutely." The moment I heard that, I finally relaxed. Long ago, I had already hidden a trap inside my code to keep my skills from being copied. The moment their AI employee went live, the company would only have three days before everything fell apart.

My girlfriend, Selena Jenkins, and I are committed to a strict 50-50 relationship. We are three years into our relationship, and we split everything down to a single bottle of water. Then, out of nowhere, I get a call from a kidnapper. "We have your girlfriend. Have 150 thousand dollars ready, or she dies!" I calmly launch our app, SplitMate. According to the algorithm, this unexpected incident falls under "shared risk", meaning she is responsible for 50% of the cost. However, after factoring in the personal insurance policy I took out on her behalf, she only needs to pay 35,550 dollars. I send the calculation results to the kidnapper. "This is her share. Please contact her family for the payment. I'm only responsible for my own portion." The line goes silent. A few minutes later, I receive a livestream link. The livestream shows Selena tied to a chair, smiling at her phone. The live chat in front of her is blowing up. "Holy shit! This guy's a monster. This is the craziest livestream I've seen all year!" Later on, she follows the 50-50 rule to a T, but I'm no longer on board with it.

My father is one of the wealthiest men in the country, a name everyone knows but almost never sees. My mother is the devoted wife standing behind him, the one who actually raises me. She always tells me my father looks down on us for being country people, that he calls us ungrateful dogs who can never be won over no matter how well they're fed. He sends me only 200 dollars a month for me to live on. I hate him for it. Then one day he shows up at my university without warning. He points at the tray in front of me and frowns. "I send you 50,000 dollars a month, and this is what you eat?"

Right after I won that $500M overseas order, my CEO husband's secretary kicked me out of the shareholder group. Before I could even react, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Julian. "Zoe accidentally removed you. Don't overthink it." I stared at those words but didn't reply. I knew why he sent this message—he was afraid I'd go after Zoe Carter. But this time, I said nothing and just resigned. I had overheard his talk with his assistant that day outside the office. "Transfer all of Bella's shares to Zoe's name. Have Bella take over the overseas merger next week. Make sure all the paperwork is finalized before she gets back." The assistant's voice wavered. "But if Isabella finds out, she might be upset and even leave you…" Julian let out a sigh. "So I have to keep her in the dark. She's an orphan, and I'm all she has. She feels unsafe, so she's always been jealous of Zoe. But Zoe needs those shares to establish herself in the company. Don't worry, I'll make it up to Bella. When she comes back, I'll give her the wedding she's been waiting for. I'll make us public." I pulled my hand back from the door. I turned and walked away without a sound. He was convinced I was an orphan who couldn't live without him, but that wasn't the truth. Actually, I was the cherished princess of New York's Gambino crime family. For him, I gave up my family's protection and married him as an ordinary girl, hiding my true identity. Now that he betrayed me, I saw no reason to cling to this marriage.

The study-abroad list went up on the department bulletin board. Kevin's name sat at the top of the sponsored students column. Mine was stuck in the alternate slot. In front of the whole class, he waved it off like it was nothing. "I'm not going. Can't even afford it." The spot slid down to me. "Congrats, Nathan! You snagged the last public-funded spot!" Classmates crowded around to offer their congratulations. My advisor turned to my parents with a clasped-hand gesture. "Professor Reed, Professor Turner—congratulations! You must be so proud of your boy!" I took the acceptance letter, my chest swelling as I looked at three years of blood, sweat, and late nights finally paying off. Then my mom reached over, plucked it right out of my hands, and passed it straight to Kevin. She grabbed my arm, her face all twisted up with regret. "Kevin's the kid we sponsor—his parents can't afford to send him anywhere. This is his one shot to go abroad. You're our flesh and blood. You need to be the bigger person here and let him have it." Kevin clutched the letter, dropped to his knees with a thud, and thanked her. I stared at that letter—the one that decided my future—and thought about every single night I'd pulled all-nighters over the last three years. They handed my future over to someone else. Fine. If that's how they want to play it, then I don't want this family anymore.

"You built an elevator on a mountain. It's obviously a code violation!" Walter Grady lifts his walking stick, the muddy tip coming inches from my nose. The massive mountain completely boxed in our town, forcing everyone to endure a brutal two-hour hike just to leave town. That is why, the moment I made my fortune, I paid out of my own pocket to install a massive outdoor elevator. For five years, I've been charging a 50-cent fee just to cover the costs of electricity. Knowing the town is mostly comprised of elderly folks and children, I bought the most expensive, heavy-duty materials available and hired a 24-hour maintenance crew for the elevator, never expecting them to report it to the city council as a code violation. I feel completely blindsided, but I still hold out hope that the people I spent years helping will stand up and speak for me. Instead, Martha Bell rolls her eyes and remarks, "Who ever heard of an elevator charging a fee? You're just ripping us off!" Marcus Crowe chimes in with a sneer, "You're just lazy and using us as an excuse to line your own pockets." I let out a bitter, angry laugh. To keep the residents comfortable, I keep the air conditioning running inside the cabin. Now, the city council is giving me a three-day deadline to tear it down or face a fine. Walter is practically gloating, saying that it's about time. I sign the citation on the spot and immediately call a demolition crew. If they enjoy hiking so much, they can be my guest. I'm officially done serving them.

I broke up with Nicole Hayes, my girlfriend of ten years. It was not her or I who initiated it, but her male nurse at the hospital. Nicole suffered from severe congenital anemia. For ten years, I donated blood to her for nothing in return. During our eleventh year together, just when we were about to get married, I overheard the male nurse in charge of her transfusions say, “Wow, Miss Hayes! Don’t tell me you decided to marry this guy just because he’s been donating blood to you. “You probably don’t know this, but the hospital has a donor compensation policy. Each donation comes with a thousand-dollar stipend. “Over the last ten years, this guy must have made at least $200,000 off you, yet he still has the nerve to guilt-trip you into marrying him? How shameless!” Under Nicole’s shifting expression, he added with a smile, “Maybe I should be the one donating blood to you instead. I also have a rare blood type, but I don’t want money, and I’m not asking to marry you. I’m just kind-hearted and can’t stand people who emotionally manipulate patients.” Seeing the obvious change in her expression, I let out a soft laugh and said, “In that case, let’s do that.” Over the past ten years, I had donated blood to Nicole twice every month. To recover, I forced myself to eat pork liver until I felt like vomiting, and at one point, I became so thin that I was nothing but skin and bones. I thought Nicole understood everything I had done for her. I never expected that a few words from a stranger would make her truly believe I had been profiting from my suffering. Even more unexpectedly, she also came to think that marrying me was nothing more than emotional coercion. If that was how she saw it, fine! I would give her what she wanted. Still, she had better pray that nurse would keep his promise of donating blood to her.

Lucius Nightshade, the Original Vampire Progenitor, was ambushed. A rogue hunter on a suicide mission. But my mate, Julian Thorne, and his elite guards weren't there. They were at a midnight masquerade, playing bodyguard for his childhood sweetheart, Lilah. I didn't invoke the mate bond to summon Julian. Instead, heavy with an eight-month pregnancy, I threw myself at Lucius. I traded my life to shield him from the fatal silver shrapnel. Because in my past life, I did invoke the emergency bond. Julian ditched Lilah, teleported to the scene, and saved Lucius. For that, he got a seat on the High Council. He became the Lord of his clan. But Lilah threw a fit because he left her behind. She ran off the territory in a tantrum and got ripped apart by our clan's worst enemies. Julian didn't say a word. But on the day I was due to give birth, he forcibly dragged me into the Sunlight Cell. His fangs grazed my ear, dangerous and cold. His hands shook violently on my shoulders, fueled by pure grief and manic rage. "The Progenitor had so many elite guards! Why did you have to force-summon me? Am I just a stepping stone to you? You don't love me. You just wanted the vanity of being a Lord's wife, didn't you?" "Lilah wouldn't be dead if it wasn't for your damn jealousy! You are going to suffer a thousand times worse than she did!" Then, without a shred of mercy, he shoved me and my newborn into the blazing daylight. I watched in horror as my baby burned to ashes right beside me. When I opened my eyes again, the harsh stench of silver powder filled the air. I was back on the day Progenitor Lucius was ambushed.

On the day my wife, Rachel Carter, receives her Ph.D., I rush back from overseas. But when I approach her with a carefully chosen gift, she slaps me in front of everyone. "I'm a married woman with a family of my own. Stop trying to make me your lover!" I watch as she turns away from me and makes her way over to a family of four. "Honey, Mom, Dad, don't mind him. This man is crazy. Let's go," she says gently. Refusing to give up, I catch up to her and grab her arm. "What happened, Rach?" I ask. "Who's this scary man, Mommy?" a child asks. "Why does he keep bothering you?" Rachel yanks her hand away and pulls out her phone. "I've already called the police. Stop harassing me, you piece of trash!" As I stare at her retreating figure, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washes over me. I pull out my phone and make a call. "Notify headquarters, William. Cancel all plans to relocate our global headquarters back to Jekovia." After I hang up, I toss the gift into a nearby trash can and walk away without looking back.

Five years after my parents, Ian Smith and Sophia Wright, get divorced, I run into Dad at school. He has just finished attending a parent-teacher conference for his stepson, Eugene Moore, who ranks first in the grade, and he's beaming with pride. The moment he spots me, his expression instantly darkens. "Is this what you usually wear to school? Is this how your mother is raising you?" He hands me his business card, his tone dripping with condescension. "Here, take it. Tell your mother that if she's willing to swallow her pride and admit she was wrong, I'll transfer you into the international class right away. In any case, it's better than rotting away in the regular class." I don't take it. In fact, I simply take a step back. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Smith." His brows draw together, his eyes filled with disgust. "You really are just like your mother—a lost cause. From now on, don't tell anyone you're my daughter." I tighten my grip on the paper in my hand and calmly watch him leave. He has no idea that this isn't a report card. It's my withdrawal application, because since Mom died, there's no one left to pay my tuition.

I spent three years winning the heart of Audrey Levingston, a woman everyone thought was untouchable. I gave up my entire career just to marry her and willingly became a stay-at-home husband. When she told me she was afraid of childbirth, I underwent a vasectomy the very next day. Everyone who knew us believed we would grow old together and love each other for the rest of our lives. But on our fifth wedding anniversary, I decided to file for divorce. My best friend and divorce attorney, Evan Chauncey, asked me again and again, “Are you sure? Back then, you turned down an offer from Vogue without hesitation just to marry her, and now, you’re telling me you want a divorce?” I swallowed the ache in my chest and replied, “Just draft the divorce agreement. The sooner, the better.” “Why?” he asked, clearly bewildered. My gaze fell on the exquisitely wrapped bouquet of black roses sitting on the dining table. After a long silence, I finally gave him my answer. “Because of a single bouquet.”

The day my SAT score comes in, I automatically call out to the living room. "Mom, Dad, I got 1570! I can go to college in Brookmere with Paige and Julia now!" But only silence answers me. Four rag dolls sit on the couch—Mom, Dad, my sister, Paige Hunt, and my childhood best friend, Julia Andrews. They stare back at me with round eyes, keeping me company quietly just like they have for countless nights. Suddenly, it hits me. This isn't the Hunt residence. I was kidnapped when I was five. Mom couldn't handle the shock, so Dad adopted Reynold Hunt to comfort her. A year ago, I was finally found and brought back. But within a few months, Reynold threw a tantrum and threatened to end his life, all because my grades were better and I outshone him at every turn. So, I became the Hunt family's dirty little secret, banished to this rented apartment. The first night I moved in, a drunk neighbor pounded on the wrong door. Terrified under my blanket, I called Mom, Dad, Paige, and Julia, but every call went straight to a cold dial tone. Right before dawn, Mom finally texted. "Stop calling. Even seeing your number makes Reynold upset." After that, I made four dolls in their likeness. They ate with me and slept by my side. They listened to every milestone I achieved and every heartbreak I had no one else to tell. But this time, as tears stream down my face, I don't reach out to hug them. After walking in the dark for so long, I finally find the courage to never look back.

Six years after my divorce from my ex-wife, Enya Taylor, we meet again in a courtroom. She sits at the prosecution table, representing the prosecution in the case brought against me. I stand in the defendant's dock, accused of five counts of murder. The moment Enya sees my face, her eyes widen in shock. "Eric?" Her reaction doesn't surprise me. After all, no one would ever imagine that Eric Beckett, the man known for his gentle nature, and Ezra Beckett, the serial killer, were the same person. Tears well up in her eyes, and she clenches her jaw so fiercely that it trembles. "Six years. Five lives. Five families destroyed forever... Eric, how could you do something like this?" A low chuckle escapes me as I watch her. "Not just five, Ms. Taylor. Ryan White, your fiance and my former best friend, has been missing for a week, hasn't he? Care to guess where he is?"

During a street interview, the interviewer asks, "What's the craziest thing you did in high school?" My best friend, Juniper Young, looks shyly into the camera. "I secretly changed someone's college applications so we'd end up at the same college." My childhood sweetheart, Flynn Sadler, takes over the microphone and smiles casually. "I left the last question on the math exam blank, so when someone changed my college applications, they wouldn't have to feel so sorry for me." Carrying three orders of omelet rolls, I hurry back and fall flat on my face. Their answers stun me. Before I can gather my thoughts, Flynn reaches over and ruffles my hair. "Don't ask her. If she can't answer, she'll end up crying." My nose stings, and tears well up in my eyes before I can stop them. Juniper immediately grabs Flynn by the ear. "You idiot. You made Sophie cry again! This time, you're the one who's going to make it up to her!" He winces in pain. "Alright, my bad… But she's so timid. The chances of her doing something crazy are lower than the chances of her not following us around everywhere." The two of them shove each other, laughing and bickering. Before long, they have forgotten I'm still there. The day we submit our college applications, they have each come to me, asking where the other has applied. Out of a one-minute audio message, only the very first second has anything to do with me. The remaining 59 seconds are all about each other. So, naturally, they have no idea that I have also done something crazy. I have submitted my application to my dream university abroad. From now on, our paths will finally diverge. I will never trail behind them again.

My dad owned a boxing gym. He gave me one rule: If you're right, don't back down. Then I turned eighteen, and my biological parents—Jonah Gautier and Diana Saun—showed up. Apparently, I was the son they'd lost years ago. Dad always taught me to remember what people did for me. They gave me life. That had to count for something. So I grabbed Dad's beat-up canvas duffel and headed to the Gautier estate. Liam, their adopted son, popped up from the couch with a fake-sweet smile. "Troy, rough trip?" I raised the bag. "Nope." Gary, the butler, showed me to my room. An hour later, I came back downstairs. Liam clung to my biological mom, Diana Saun, tears streaming down his face, a handprint bright on his cheek. The second he saw me, he flinched. "Troy, why'd you hit me?" Every head snapped my way. I walked over and lifted my hand. A sharp whoosh cut through the room. Everyone froze. My hand stopped inches from his face. I spread my fingers and held my hand next to the mark on his face. Ten years in the gym had hardened my fists. Thick calluses covered my knuckles, and my hand was way bigger than the handprint on his cheek. "Does my hand look anything like that?" His fingers twitched against his cheek. "Couldn't even bring yourself to hit that hard? Next time, have someone else do it." I dusted off my hands. "When you're done with the performance, let me know dinner's ready."

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.