Melodramatic Short Stories & Independence Regret Novels

Our cruise ship got into an accident, but there was only one seat left on the lifeboat. The three of us drew lots, and I got it. I wanted to give Zac Xavier the chance of survival that I won. However, while we were arguing, his childhood sweetheart got on the lifeboat first. Just as we thought our lives would end, the rescue team arrived in time and brought us back from the boundless deep sea. After that incident, Zac and I walked down the aisle. Unexpectedly, his childhood sweetheart returned to that sea on our wedding day and jumped into it. When Zac got the news of her death, he was struck by grief and blamed everything on me. He imprisoned the pregnant me in the basement and made my life a torture. I bled profusely on the day I gave birth. He had the doctor save the baby, asking him to give up on my life. My only child was named Rory, something he thought up based on the name of his childhood sweetheart—Aurora. Even when I died, I was consumed by hatred. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the day he proposed to me after the cruise ship accident. Watching Zac hold my hand as he had done in my past life and promise to grant my every wish, I calmly withdrew my hand. "Zac, let's break up."

The seven Jennings sisters were all born unusually fertile, while I was born extremely virile. My grandmother wanted me to marry a woman with high fertility so we could have lots of kids and thrive as a family. In my previous life, I followed her wishes and chose Kara Jennings. But she joined forces with her six sisters to steal my family estate, locked me in a basement, and tortured me until I died. Now that I had come back to life on the day I had a banquet to announce my bride-to-be, I chose Michelle Cooper, the powerful CEO rumored to be sickly and infertile...

Astrid was aware that her daughter, Coco, loved her father. The problem was that the father, Isaiah, did not love her, nor did he love Coco; he only ever allowed Coco to address him as uncle. After Isaiah dismissed the three chances Coco gave him, she decided she was going to leave him for good. It was only then that Isaiah changed his mind and started pleading desperately, “My dear, I want nothing more than to hear you call me your father.”

When my mother went into kidney failure and needed a transplant, it was Pauline Maynard—on the brink of death herself—who gave my mom a second chance at life. Just before Pauline passed, she gripped my hand tightly and whispered her final words. "Summer, Ricky is my only son. He's rebellious… and fragile. Please, take care of him. Just three years, please?" I gave her my word. Then I moved into their home and gave Ricky everything he needed—love, comfort, a sense of safety. For three years, I stayed true to that promise. By the third year, Ricky had transformed. No longer the wayward boy he once was, he rose to become the Mafia Don Ricky Lenza. And I was carrying his child. As I busied myself with wedding plans, I overheard something I was never meant to hear—his voice, low and mocking, as he wrapped another woman in his arms. "Summer? She's just pretending to love me for the sake of my mother's inheritance and a stupid deal. A gold digger like her dreams of marrying me? What a joke." A sharp pain pierced my chest, like thorns stabbing deep beneath the skin. On the way to a prenatal checkup, we were hit in a crash. My baby didn't make it. And my mother, sitting in the passenger seat, shielded me with her life. When I woke up, I stared blankly at the date on my phone. Three days left. That would've marked the end of the three-year promise. I realized then—I'd paid my debt to Pauline in full. It was time for me to go.

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

Three days before my wedding to Don Marco, I scheduled a memory erasure procedure. "Ms. Leah, are you certain you want to erase the memories from this period of your life and forget the people you knew?" I ran my fingers over the wedding invitation Marco had carefully prepared and said softly, "Yes." Three years ago, on the night Marco and I got engaged, Violetta was involved in a car accident. When she woke up, she identified me as the person responsible. That was when I learned that even an innocent person could become the villain in everyone else's eyes. Marco, the man I loved most, believed her and sent me to prison for three years. "Leah, you nearly destroyed her life. You should be grateful that she's still willing to forgive you." "But I can't keep cleaning up your messes forever. You need to learn to face the consequences of your actions." That was Marco's final decision. The truth was, if he had been willing to investigate a little further, he would have discovered what really happened. During those three years, Marco never responded to my pleas or my cries for help. All he left me was a promise that he would marry me after I was released. An empty vow. But I no longer needed his belated tenderness. Marco, I choose to forget you.

I watched as my boyfriend put the ring that he had promised to give me on Sophie White's finger at her birthday party. When I questioned him, Mark Goodman shrugged nonchalantly. "I promised to marry Sophie. Since that's not happening now, the ring is compensation." I was left speechless from rage and so disenchanted that I decided to cut all ties with him. Everyone was cheering when Mark later showed up at a gathering with Sophie, both wearing a matching set of rings. But when they all thought I would make a scene, I smiled faintly. "You two really deserve each other. When are you getting married? Do send me an invite."

"Boss... it's so hard, so deep... fill me up, please?" The moans belonged to my former best friend, Tessa. But the man thrusting into her like a wild animal, slapping her ass and groaning about how good she felt, was my husband. Don Killian. The man who made sure all of Chicago knew he loved me. He even implanted a micro-GPS chip in the back of my neck just to protect me. He always knew Tessa wanted him. But he rejected her countless times. He once said publicly that if she wasn't my best friend, he would've dumped a bitch like her in the river. But three months ago, she finally crawled into his bed. And everything changed. Killian got addicted to her body. Three months. Sixty-six times. And they thought I didn't know. I stared at the calendar. Seven days until our wedding anniversary. I made a call and booked two surgeries. One to dig out the GPS chip. The other to give me a brand-new face. Killian, since you betrayed me... In seven days, I'll give you one last anniversary gift. And then I'll disappear forever.

For twenty years, Kyle and I were each other’s salvation. On the day he confessed his feelings, he promised to give me a warm and loving home. However, everything changed when the Gill family found him and brought him back, naming him the Crown Prince of High Society. Overnight, I went from being his proud fiancée to nothing more than his hidden canary in a gilded cage. With another woman in his arms, his voice was cold and distant, “The eldest young master of the Gill family can’t marry an orphan.” At that moment, my heart shattered completely. I left the capital that very night. Later, I heard I had become the Gill family’s unspoken taboo. That once-proud Young Master Gill ended up confined to a mental institution, clinging to a doll and whispering my name day after day.

On our third Valentine's Day since marrying the Don Arthur, he set the three places at the dining table. With the same hands he used to wield a gun, he carefully peeled shrimp. Shrimp was Lora's favorite, the first love he'd never gotten over. I was allergic to shellfish. He dismissed every hurt he'd caused me and sided with Lora every time. He was certain I loved him so deeply that I would swallow every insult and step aside forever. Everything changed when I discovered Lora's role in my father's murder and learned how completely Arthur's blind trust in her had buried the truth. That was when I finally saw him clearly. I was done with Arthur and the love he claimed to have for me.

The day Jasper Carter's terminally ill ex, Natalie Klutz, gave birth, his parents—Josephine and Raymond—hired ten bodyguards to keep me, his actual wife, out of the hospital. But I never showed. Josephine clutched Natalie's hand. "She's not getting near you or the baby." Jasper wiped Natalie's forehead. "Relax. Dad's got men at every door. If Emily shows, we'll toss her." Hours passed. Still no me. Jasper finally let himself breathe. He didn't get what my deal was. He was just granting Natalie's dying wish—to be a mom. The second the nurse handed over the crying baby, he smiled like everything was finally worth it. If I came tomorrow and said sorry, he'd forgive me. Hell, he'd even let me raise the kid. What he didn't know? I had just submitted my paperwork. I'd leave the country, join Doctors Without Borders, and ghost him for good.

The day I learned I was pregnant, I walked out of a private clinic holding the test results, ready to tell my husband that we were finally going to have a child. I never got the chance to make the call. A sports car driven by Damian's foster sister, Serena, struck me outside the clinic. When Damian arrived, he rushed past the paramedics and lifted Serena into his arms, even though she had suffered only minor injuries. He never recognized his wife being loaded into the ambulance. After surgery, he called to tell me that Serena had been in an accident and needed him beside her. "I am sorry, but I have to cancel our anniversary dinner." I did not tell him that I was the other person involved in the crash. I did not tell him that the child we had wanted for five years was gone. He gave me the title of Donna while reserving his forbidden devotion for her. Since he could not bear to lose either of us, I would make the choice for him. In seven days, I would leave New York and return to my parents in Sicily. Damian would receive the two gifts I left behind. The first would be a divorce that restored his freedom. The second would be the wedding he and Serena had always wanted. This time, I would not ask why he betrayed me. I would quietly give them my blessing, and then I would disappear forever.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

The first time Rafael betrayed me, he threw the woman from his club at my feet. His eyes were bloodshot as he told me to take my pick. My love for him was a sickness, so I forgave the transgression. For the second betrayal, I had the dancer sent out of New York, warning her never to set foot on the East Coast again. On the night of our engagement party, sealing the union of our two families, Rafael pinned me against the walnut desk in the study. His eyes burned with rage as he demanded: "Where is Nina? She's carrying a Mancini heir." "It was a mistake. You can take your anger out on me. Nina is naive; she doesn't deserve this. I'm begging you, just let the child be born safely. I swear I'll never see her again." "You're afraid of childbirth. This gives you an heir without the risk." "Listen, Alessia. You are the future Donna of the Mancini family. When that child is born, it will know only you as its mother. I swear on my life." He forced me backward until shards from the vase I'd knocked over cut into my skin, staining my silk dress with blood. I looked at him and smiled, then gave him the address of a safe house in Brooklyn. He slammed the heavy oak door behind him. Shaking, I pulled out my encrypted phone. "You were right about him. Is your offer still on the table?"

My best friend Ada felt sorry for my eight-year crush on Theo. So when our wolves recognize each other as mate, Ada simply gave me a pheromone-enhancing herb and sent me to Theo’s bed. Intoxicated by my scent, Theo claimed me like crazy. When I woke up, he coldly agreed to hold the marking ceremony. But shortly after the marking, Theo frequently visited European packs, and stayed away for five years. I raised our son Alex alone, waiting for him at the pack. But he never came come and just told me he didn’t like puppies. Until Alex's birthday party, I saw a video where someone asked him: "Theo, what's your happiest moment?" He replied carelessly: "Last week in Europe, after putting Marcus to sleep, I took Claire to the dining table in the living room." Amidst the whistles and cheers, my hands and feet turned ice cold. Claire was his ex-girlfriend, Marcus was his ex-girlfriend's son. They say he'd been living with them these five years in Europe, so it was all true. I was completely heartbroken, submitted the mate bond dissolution to the Alpha Council, and left North America with my son, erasing our pack registration.

I was doing the laundry when another pair of lace panties slipped out of my husband's pants pocket. Before I could say a word, he raised an eyebrow and handed me a plastic vase. "Go on. Smash it." He acted as though it were perfectly natural. It was the same routine every time I caught him cheating over the past seven years. I looked around, and only then did I realize what he'd done. He'd replaced every breakable thing in our home with something made of plastic or stainless steel. He was used to my hysterical outbursts by now. He thought our marriage was just like all that plastic. No matter how hard I tried, I could never break it. But this time, I calmly put the vase back where it belonged. "Let's get a divorce."

On the day of the court hearing, the judge went through the routine questioning: “You’ve only been married for three years. Has the marriage truly broken down irretrievably?” I bit my lip with a bitter smile, slipped off my wedding ring, and placed it on the table. “In our three years of marriage, we’ve lived apart for every single day. “Your Honor, do you really think there’s any love left between us?” Throughout our five years of dating, I was the one pinned at the top of her chat list. I was her emergency contact. I was even the sole beneficiary of her insurance policy. I thought I had found the right person—the love of my life. But on our wedding day, she took a phone call, and her face turned deathly pale. When I asked what was wrong, she claimed her mother was gravely ill. Dropping everything, she bought a ticket and flew back to her hometown that very day. For the next three years, she sent me daily photos of her meals, yet her mother was never in a single picture. My heart ached for her, so I offered to quit my job and move there to help care for her mother. But she declined gently, saying she couldn’t bear to let me suffer. It wasn’t until a month ago that I stumbled upon a viral vlog channel of a cancer patient. There she was—Amelia Rose Whitmore—appearing right in Austin Carter’s videos, accompanied by a heartwarming caption: “She’s there when I wake up. “She’s there for every meal. “She’s the one whose hand I hold so tightly.” What about me then? For 1,095 days and nights, I had no one but myself. She lied to me. The judge struck the gavel and asked one final question: “Have you truly made up your mind?” I gave a firm, heavy nod. When the official divorce decree was handed down, I stared at the paper as tears finally came streaming down my face. Goodbye, Amelia. I’m setting you free. And I’m setting myself free, too.

Imagine my shock when I found out that my husband, a professor who had proudly embraced a childless life for half of his years, had an affair with one of his own students. She even had his six-year-old son. The day I planned to report him to the university, Zia Thompson came to my door with the child and knelt in front of me. "Maybe you and Zeke were in love once," she said. "But he's over forty now. Who doesn't want to have a child? A legacy?" "I don't need a title," she went on. "I can give up the child too. I just beg you, don't tear our family apart." I looked at my husband, who stood protectively in front of them. I felt terrifyingly calm. "Cut ties with them," I said, my voice flat, "or prepare to be reported to the university. You choose." Without a moment's hesitation, he tore the report letter into shreds. I thought that was his answer. But on the fifty-second night of a bed grown cold and a home echoing with silence, he still hadn't returned. Instead, I received news that Zia was pregnant again. She had graduated by then. The report I never sent no longer posed any threat to them. Zeke didn't bother to hide his fatigue and irritation anymore. "Treat Zia and the kids well," he said, "or keep living alone in that empty house. It's your choice." My heart was already a wasteland. "I have one more option," I said. "I choose divorce."

On the twelfth anniversary of our mating ceremony, my Alpha mate gave me a ten-million-dollar Moonlight herb. Fresh from the healing clinic after my miscarriage, I calmly dialed his number to request the severing of our mate bond. On the other end of the line, his secretary—also his childhood sweetheart—apologized through tears: "Sage, Moonlight herb is a sacred healing herb for most werewolves. I didn't know your mother died from Moonlight herb poisoning. I didn't know you despised it most. It's all my fault for making the decision myself. Please don't be angry with the Alpha." Marcus spent a long time gently comforting her, only saying to me: "If you want to sever it, then sever it. Don't regret it later." But when I really cut off the mate bond, the powerful Alpha went crazy.

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.