Cerita Pendek Plot Twists & Novel Male POV Regret

Lawrence Hale has been Julia Ware's assistant and lover for seven years, but she's now getting engaged to someone else. She calls off their engagement during an auction, and he thinks she wants to propose to him. It's only when a face that looks almost identical to him shows up that he realizes he's never been more than a replacement.

At the annual company meeting, my wife, Rosalie Smith, claims that I've never made any contributions to the company, so she demands that I give up my position as the chief engineer and transfer all of my research findings to her first love, Harry West. Enraged by Rosalie's shamelessness, I quit my job on the spot before throwing the divorce agreement at Harry's face. "Working in this day and time is very difficult, you know! How about I just be more generous and let you take over my position as the CEO's husband instead?" For a moment, everyone swaps looks with each other, thinking that I'm merely jealous of Harry. But no one knows that I'm the one with the core technology of the company. No one can replicate it nor steal it from me. Without my core tech, the company's products are reduced to a bunch of useless codes. As for Rosalie, she will face massive debts and the crisis of her company going into bankruptcy.

When my wife, Hazel Zimmerman, is diagnosed with a terminal disease, she insists on divorcing me just to set me free. I refuse to do so. Instead, I travel all over the world to seek doctors and treatment remedies in hopes of finding Hazel a cure. I keep going at it until I start vomiting blood from exhaustion. But as soon as I reach home, I overhear Hazel bragging to her best friend smugly. "Brandon, that idiot, actually thinks that I really have cancer! I just wanted to use this excuse to divorce him so I could go on a world trip with Nathan. "Once I've had my fun, I'll claim that I'm cured of my disease. Then, I'll remarry Brandon again." "Do you really think Brandon will believe your excuse?" the best friend asks. Hazel just sneers in disdain. "That idiot loves me so much that he can't live without me. Ever since he found out that I have cancer, he's been crying his eyes out. What can he tell, anyway?" When Hazel brings up divorce once again, I don't hesitate to accept it this time.

My wife went viral by copying someone else. After some netizens shamed her looks, she became obsessed with plastic surgery. Eventually, an illegal clinic tricked her into spending thirty thousand dollars, claiming they could make her into a celebrity. She even forced me to fund her dream by feeding our daughter pesticides. However, I knew that the clinic used implants from stolen corpses. Before long, her face would start to rot. I spent ages convincing her to choose a professional cosmetic hospital instead, saving her life. Later, though, her best friend became an internet star after undergoing plastic surgery. In comparison, my wife’s appearance had only improved slightly after the cosmetic treatment. In a fit of jealousy, she burned my daughter and me alive. “It’s your fault I couldn’t make it big! You deserve to die!” When I next opened my eyes, I returned to the day my wife asked me for money.

I accidentally clicked on a viral post. [What’s one regret that you can’t get over in your life?] Everyone in the comments said things like not studying well or not purchasing a house when it was cheaper. I felt a little bored by it. I was about to scroll past when I accidentally came across a comment with the highest number of likes. The account had a profile picture that was very familiar to mine. [Five years ago, to elope with my first love, I faked my death to leave my husband. [And I used my husband’s research to help my first love kickstart his business. [Now, my first love is a billionaire, and my husband became a butcher.] Some people reprimanded her and her first love in the comment section. Others reminisced about their past. I scrolled to the end of the post and saw the latest reply. [I’m back in the city, and I’ve decided to meet him.]

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

I was born with a weak heart. When I was nineteen, I got a heart transplant that allowed me to survive. Soon after, I met my wife-to-be, Vivian Cosby. Three years after we got married, I found a note in her phone that was not deleted. The date was marked as the day we met. The text simply read, [I found him. His name is Quinn Waverly. The heart is with him.] When I looked through the notes further, I saw a man’s photo, captioned with a name. [Randall] There was another line of text in her notes. It read, [Randall, through your heart in his chest, I will show you the world.] I finally understood. The first time we met, she had not been taken aback because it was love at first sight, it was simply shock. The tears she shed when she proposed were not because of me. In the night, she would always lay her head on my chest. However, she was not listening for my heartbeat, but his. Tonight, she came home very late. As usual, she held me tightly and buried her face in my chest. “Your heartbeat always makes me calm.” I did not open my eyes, nor did I ask about Randall. This was the first time I realized that one could hear a heart beat so loudly that it echoed, even through so many layers of skin and muscle.

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.

On the day Serena's company went public, she announced her engagement to her assistant, Hugo Snow. Meanwhile, I, her husband who had quietly stayed by her side for four years, watched as Hugo walked up to the press conference stage. "None of this would have been possible without Hugo's support," Serena stated. "I thank you all for trusting Serena. From now on, the two of us will be completing this project together, hand in hand," Hugo added. As I listened to the crowd shower them with congratulations, my clenched fist slowly loosened. It was finally time for me to let go of this four-year marriage.

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."

Eight years married, and my wife? She asked for a divorce 99 times. I thought it was just her usual drama—testing me. Then I found out she'd been wiring half a million every year to some dude. Always with the same note: ILU. When she hit me with divorce number 100, I finally signed. I pulled my money out of her little passion project and ghosted—moved my company overseas, wiped my tracks clean. Now she's out there losing her mind, trying to find me.

When my wife's lover changed the locks on our house for the ninth time and locked us out again, there was finally a hint of irritation on her face. I, on the other hand, calmly reassured her. "He's young. He doesn't know any better. Don't get worked up over it." Yvonne Fisher, who was about to break the lock open, froze mid-swing and turned to stare at me. "Aren't you angry?" I was at a loss for words. Throughout our five years of marriage, things like this had happened so often that if I'd kept getting angry, I would've died from it by now. Besides, my own lover was just as much of a handful. All I felt for Yvonne was sympathy.

Five years ago, at that engagement party, I punched out a front tooth belonging to Jace, the personal bodyguard of my fiancée Elle. To get revenge for her bodyguard lover, Elle planted fake evidence claiming I sold family secrets to a rival. She framed me and personally threw me into the family's underground dungeon. The day I made it out of those cells alive, I ran right into Elle and Jace's wedding. Everyone thought I would shoot the place up like a mad dog. But I didn't. I just took an old suitcase, boarded a flight across the Atlantic, and vanished from this land. Three years after my release, I accompanied my wife Quinn back to my hometown, just in time for my birthday. We agreed to celebrate at the most exclusive club in the city, and she said she had a surprise for me. I arrived early. Who knew that the moment I pushed open the doors of that high-end club, I would run right into Jace, surrounded by a bunch of goons. "Oh? Look who we have here." "Isn't this our once-glorious big shot?" "Well, well. I haven't seen you in a few years. How did Mr. Cole end up looking so pathetic? You can't even afford a decent suit anymore?"

I have dated my girlfriend, Brenda Townsend, for eight years. She finally agrees to marry me. Filled with excitement, I head to the city hall. But to my surprise, I discover that the person waiting for me at the entrance is her best friend, Megan Cunningham. It turns out Brenda is on her way to her childhood sweetheart's house to take care of him. So I go along with it and marry Megan instead. Brenda loses her mind and breaks down. She cries hysterically while telling me that she has her reasons.

On New Year's Eve, my in-laws, Richard Prescott and Leona Reed, had flown back to have dinner at my place. However, our butler, Rupert Williams, had only prepared two plates of cold lobster rolls even though I had specifically reminded him that Leona was allergic to lobster. Rupert looked at me with his usual stiff expression and said, "Mr. Shaw, I understand that people from your background like to take advantage of situations. Your parents showing up for a free holiday meal doesn't surprise me." He added, "But as Ms. Jaclyn Prescott's most trusted butler, I have a duty to protect the Prescott family assets from being touched by questionable individuals, even if it's just a dinner. That said, I'm not heartless enough to let two elderly people go hungry. "Here are some leftover expired lobster rolls. Your parents can eat them and leave. Ms. Prescott is very busy with work, and I can't have her come home later only to deal with your poor parents." I froze for a moment, then realized he had mistaken Jaclyn's parents for mine. He was deliberately trying to humiliate me like he always did. I was about to explain when Richard and Leona, furious, turned to leave. However, Rupert called for the security guards to block their way. "I can understand that people from rural areas might lack proper manners, but wasting food is still a bad habit. Since the lobster rolls have already been prepared, I insist you finish them before you go."

My parents, Dennis and Sandra Ford, always said the wiring in our old house was too outdated to power more than three air conditioners. My sister, Beth Ford, practiced her violin in her room all day, so she needed one. My brother, Monty Ford, had been sickly since he was little and couldn't stand even a little heat, so he needed one too. The last unit went to the master bedroom. I didn't say anything. I stuck to my old, creaking fan and got through twenty-two stifling summers in Battisata City. I thought that if I stayed quiet enough, obedient enough, my family would eventually notice me. Then came the day I borrowed Monty's air-conditioned room for the final online interview at a major company. Right in the middle of it, the door kept swinging open. Beth's singing drifted in from the living room, and my dad poked his head in for the fourth time. "Still not done? Don't forget to make your brother his honey-glazed fish tonight." The interviewer on the screen frowned. "Sorry, we don't need employees with an attitude problem." The second the screen went dark, I sat frozen in my chair, cold sweat soaking the hair at my forehead. "Hurry to the market once you're finished. The fish won't be fresh if you wait too long." Their nagging kept going, and that was the moment it hit me. What I'd lost over the years wasn't just a working air conditioner or a hard-won job. It was my entire family.

I've been sponsoring a poor student named Sophie Martin who's about to drop out, allowing her to graduate from university without a hitch. When Sophie confesses to me on graduation day, I firmly reject her advances. I didn't expect her to slander me after her failed confession, accusing me of sponsoring her only because I want to keep her by my side for salacious reasons. I'm thrust into the eye of the storm and forced to endure endless criticisms. My university fires me to save its reputation. No other school dares to employ me. I become depressed due to constant verbal harassment from the netizens. I barely survive as I hide in a dim basement every day. One day, I see Sophie on the news by chance. She has become an inspirational microcelebrity and is enjoying a life of fame and fortune. Infuriated, I seek her out and demand an explanation. But she pushes me off the building, leading to my death. After I died, Sophie tells the public that I refused to give up and continued to harass her, claiming that's the reason why I slipped and fell off the building. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I've been transported back in time to the day that Sophie tells me that she's going to drop out of school.

After hitting the five-million-dollar jackpot, I plan to leave every cent to my son, Caleb Dawson. But sitting inside the notary office, I suddenly hesitate. My wife, Zoey Watts, looks at me in utter confusion. "Caleb passed the test, so why are you hesitating?" A few days ago, I found a lottery ticket on the street that turned out to be worth five million dollars. Zoey was ecstatic. She immediately wanted to call our son and daughter, but I stopped her. "We can't just hand over five million dollars. Tell them I'm terminally ill. Whoever steps up to pay for my treatment gets the money." Our kids have always been good to us, so Zoey accused me of overthinking things. But our daughter, Jayda Dawson's, reaction completely blindsided us. She lives in a mansion and drives a luxury car. Yet, she only handed me 200 bucks, told me not to bother her, and ordered me to get out. Meanwhile, Caleb has just graduated and doesn't even have a job yet. Still, he gave me all 3,000 dollars he saved up over the years. Without any hesitation, Zoey and I decide to leave the entire five million dollars to Caleb. But now, I have changed my mind. "Sir, I want to leave everything to my daughter!" Zoey snaps. "Henry Dawson! Have you lost your mind?" I shake my head. "My mind is perfectly clear. Mom came to me in a dream last night."

Before meeting my girlfriend's parents, she promises me up and down, "Don't worry. My dad is super easygoing. Just a little naive, that's all!" I actually buy it and show up at their door with my arms full of gifts. But the second the door swings open, I freeze in my tracks at the entryway. My future father-in-law, Mike Bennett, is standing there dressed head-to-toe as a prince. My jaw drops, but my girlfriend, Alicia Bennett, just flashes a bright smile. "This is my dad's fetish. Don't mind him." I take a deep breath and hold out the gifts with both hands. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Bennett. Here's a little something for—" Before I can even finish speaking, Mike snaps, "Why are you calling me Mr. Bennett? You shall address me as Prince Mike!"

I was in a relationship with Quinn Lucas for five years and thought I had touched her with my sincerity. That night, I got a phone call from her when I was preparing to propose to her. "Kyle, come to the hotel." Then, she sent me the address. When I arrived, she told me to buy contraceptives from the supermarket next door. I thought we were close to our happily ever after, so I was excited. When I knocked on the door of her room again, I saw a man, who took the contraceptives in my hand and thanked me. I froze in place...