Male POV Short Stories & Novels

I've just booked a restaurant for my seventh wedding anniversary with my wife, Melanie Rowland, when several lines of text suddenly appear across my vision. "Would you like to take part in a loyalty test? "We'll randomly give your wife a system. If she tells you about it, you win, and the two of you will receive one million dollars." After seven years of marriage, I have no doubt Melanie loves me. As far as I'm concerned, that million dollars is already in the bag. Still, I'm curious enough to ask one question. "What if we lose?" "If you lose, it proves your marriage has failed. In return, you'll receive a mystery prize big enough to let you start your life over. "The price of participating is allowing people from another dimension to watch you. Choose carefully." I couldn't care less about the mystery prize. I'm already planning to use the million dollars to buy Melanie the condo she's had her eye on for ages. After I agree to join the game, I hurry home. The moment I walk in, I catch a flash of panic on Melanie's face. She brushes me off with a few vague excuses and hurries into the study. Through the closed door, I hear her talking to Hayden Locke, the guy she grew up with. "Hayden, I just got an apocalypse system. It says the end of the world is coming. I'm going to find somewhere to build a safe house, and I promise I'll keep you safe. Don't worry. I won't tell Alex a word. "When the world ends, it'll be you and me together." I freeze. Her apocalypse system is fake, but the countdown to my mystery prize has probably already begun.

My parents hand me this year's "atonement list", which includes a Porsche worth at least six figures. They claim that my late brother, Caleb Patterson, loved luxury cars above all else. Even though he died saving my life, they say I owe it to him to buy a real one and burn it in his memory. That way, he can enjoy it in the afterlife. Just as I'm about to drain my savings to appease them—just as I've done for the past ten years—I receive a notification about a trending post titled, "How do you get the oldest child to willingly spend their whole life slaving away for the younger one?" After a moment's thought, I tap the notification and start typing a reply, one word at a time. "I'm the oldest child, but I'm adopted. Ten years ago, my younger brother drowned while saving my life. I owe my family my life, so no matter how outrageous my parents' demands are, I'll do everything in my power to fulfill them. I see it as my way of carrying my brother's share of caring for our parents too." But before I can hit post, a top-voted comment from the original poster catches my eye. "What's so hard about that? Ten years ago, I got myself into trouble and needed to lay low for a while. And because of that, my parents lied to my adopted brother and told him I was swept away by the current while trying to save him from drowning. "For the past ten years, I've been living a life of luxury overseas under a fake identity. Meanwhile, my idiot brother has been brainwashed by our parents under the guise of 'atonement'. Every year, he hands over hundreds of thousands of dollars as penance." The poster even attaches a photo. In it is a handwritten "atonement list", with one entry standing out in particular. "Limited-edition Patek Philippe watch, platinum, diamond-set version." Every drop of blood in my body turns to ice. There's a coffee stain in the bottom-right corner of the paper in that photo. It's identical to the one on the list Mom and Dad just handed me.

As the iron gates of the mental institute swing open, my wife, Serena Seacrest, walks in with her childhood sweetheart, Adrian Cross, beside her. She looks at me with utter disgust. I am strapped tightly to the bed, unable to move. She sneers, "Damian, you've been subjected to electroshock treatments for an entire month. Is your mania any better? You pushed Adrian down the stairs and nearly broke his leg, so I sent you here to teach you how to be a normal person." Serena tosses a worn-out pink comfort bunny onto the floor and speaks as though she is granting me a favor. "Get down on your knees and apologize to Adrian. If you do, I'll be kind enough to let you see Lila next month." I stare blankly at the dusty bunny, but I am unable to make a sound. Serena frowns and curses, "What a complete nutjob." Then, she turns around and closes the door. What she doesn't know is that a month ago, on the day she forcibly dragged me onto the mental institute's transport van, our daughter, Delilah Vale, ran after me and was run over by a truck at an intersection, her body mangled beyond recognition. Delilah is dead now, and she will never hold her bunny again. And everything between Serena and me had ended that same night.

I'm known throughout my family as the resident tattletale, and I refuse to let even the smallest offense slide. When I was three, Aunt Cassandra stole a piece of my cheesecake. That same night, I ran to Grandma's bedside and wailed as though someone had died. The next morning, Aunt Cassandra stepped out of her room with her left foot first, and Grandma beat her so badly that she ended up with a broken leg. When I was eight, my cousin, Penelope Georgiou, secretly hid her lunch money inside her shoe. I immediately tipped off my Uncle Reuben. Penelope not only received a beating, but also got searched down to her underwear and lost every last dollar. From then on, Mom established a new family rule. No one is allowed to sneak food, hide money, or give me any reason to start talking. After graduating from college, I conceal my identity and take a job at the family company. Dad holds my hand, his face lined with worry. "The company is crawling with snakes and backstabbers. Treat it like entertainment, keep your head down, and stay out of the drama. Most importantly, keep your mouth shut and don't start tattling. Let your sister enjoy a few peaceful days for once!" I follow his advice so well that, after three months, everyone at the company assumes I'm a spineless pushover. Then, an intern named Finley Tatum joins the company, steals my proposal, and puts his own name on it. "A nobody with no connections can't possibly beat me out for a full-time position. After all, my sister is the CEO of this company." Melanie Ashcroft, the supervisor, is quick to suck up to him. "Once his sister takes full control of the company, low-level nobodies like you will be packing your bags and leaving," she says. Remembering Dad's warning, I keep my mouth firmly shut and don't say a word. However, he only told me not to talk. My hands still work perfectly well. I immediately text my sister, Sabrina Georgiou. "Sabrina, your dear little brother says I'm getting fired as soon as you take over the company."

I've had a terrible memory since I was a child. I can never seem to remember anything. But my older brother, Fred Zimmer, is the pride of the family. He gets excellent grades and is handsome, too. Mom always says, "Don't feel pressured. We love you both the same." Dad often comforts me, too. "Josh, forgetting things means you won't have a lot of worries. All I want is for you to be happy." I've always believed them without question. After I graduate, I secretly take my birth certificate and apply for public housing to help ease the financial strain at home. After entering my information, the clerk frowns and looks up at me. "Kid, something's not right with these records." I freeze. "What's wrong?" "According to the records, Fred Zimmer is the only child officially registered to these parents." In that instant, I feel my whole body go numb. "That can't be right. Could the system have made a mistake?" The clerk checks again for a long time before finally looking at me helplessly. "Your parents are registered as someone else here." I don't know how I make it out of the building. I can't believe I've spent more than 20 years as their son, only to find out that they've never officially recognized me as one. I don't want this family anymore.

The side character, Derek Holloway, poured his heart and soul into every single year of high school. When the moment came to earn a place in the honors program, his childhood best friend, Vivian Sterling, handed the golden ticket straight to Blake Mercer, the male lead. Vivian's voice sounded flat, completely unbothered. "I've really thought this through. If we're in the same class, we'll just distract each other from studying. "Besides, Blake's family is struggling financially. He needs this opportunity way more than you do. Just step aside for him, okay?" I watched Derek step aside for Blake. One hundred and one times. I watched him go home and suffer a brutal beating from both his parents for losing that honors spot. One hundred and one times. I watched him lose his mind while the girl he'd loved since childhood paraded around town with another guy. One hundred and one times. I watched his grades plummet into the gutter, destroying any shot at admission to an Ivy League school. One hundred and one times. I watched him get framed for cheating on SAT, which drove him to jump from the thirty-sixth floor. One hundred and one times. Then I took complete control of his body. Vivian had no idea who she was dealing with. I came from an era torn apart by war and gunfire. I didn't give a damn about petty teenage romance. Anything worth taking, anything worth fighting for, I would fight for and claim every last one.

At a yacht party, someone suggests we play Two Truths and a Lie. The rules are simple. If someone calls your bluff and proves that you are lying, you have to take a penalty shot. When it's my turn, I look across the deck at my girlfriend of eight years, Claire Sullivan, and smile. "I'm getting married this year." Before anyone else can react, my best friend, Daniel Parker, raises his hand. "Bullshit. That's a lie. There's no way you're getting married this year." Laughter erupts around the table, and everyone turns to Claire, waiting for her response. Instead, she calmly picks up a glass of liquor and slides it across the table toward me. "You lost. Drink." Without hesitation, I pick up the glass and knock it back in one swallow. The liquor burns all the way down my throat, and my heart aches along with it. Then it's Daniel's turn. He leans back with a smug grin and says, "I got married this year, too." I call his bluff, but Daniel merely raises an eyebrow. Instead, he reaches into his bag, pulls out a marriage certificate, and passes it around for everyone to see. Daniel lets everyone take a look at it. My eyes drop to the names: Claire Sullivan under Bride and Daniel Parker under Groom. For a few seconds, I can't move. Then everyone bursts out laughing. "Julian lost again!" "We knew he would!" "So double shot this time!" Claire looks at me with what almost passes for an apologetic smile. "We lost a bet last time," she says casually. "The punishment was getting married, so… we did." I stare at the woman I've loved for eight years, then at the man I've trusted as my best friend. My blood runs cold. It seems that Daniel hasn't just won the game; he's won Claire, too. And the worst part? They've both forgotten one thing. I always keep my word. I said I would get married this year, and I will, but Claire just won't be the bride.

A week before we're supposed to register our marriage, my fiancee, Celine Payton, asks me to book eight train tickets to the beach. She says it's our last trip before we get married, and everyone close to us is going. I spend three days scrambling for tickets and finally manage to get eight seats together. After I pay, a group poll pops up in a chat called "No Henry Sharp Travel Group." The question is simple. "Should Henry come with us?" Seven votes are against it while one person abstains. Not a single vote is in my favor. The voters include Celine, my older sister, Celine's childhood best friend, and my younger cousin, whom I had practically raised. I ask Celine if she's the one who abstained. She rubs her temples. "Yes. I didn't vote against you, and that's already me looking out for you. "Everyone's worried you'll try to control everything and complain about this or that. No one will have any fun. Just give me some space before we get married, okay?" I ask, "Then why do you still have me book eight tickets?" Her answer comes naturally. "You're good at getting tickets. The eighth seat gives us extra room for luggage. I'll send you the money later." My older sister, Joanne Sharp, tries to reason with me. "We're about to be family. Don't let a few tickets ruin your marriage." I look down at the eight seats sitting side by side. So I spend three days scrambling for tickets, not because I'm going with them. I'm only helping everyone else book a trip that doesn't include me. The app reminds me that I have ten minutes left to cancel the tickets. But by then, I don't care whether I can get a refund. What matters is the woman I'm about to marry. Even when everyone else turns against me, she can't bring herself to cast a single vote in my favor.

I was attending my daughter Wendy's autumn camp when I overheard her whispering to her best friend, "Don't be picky with your food, or Ms. Adams will kill you. That's why she killed Carl." Shocked, I scooped her up in my arms and ran to Carl's mother. However, she pointed at a healthy Carl who was hopping around, grinning, "What? But Carl is no longer a fussy eater. He eats everything I cook these days!" Relieved, I was about to turn and scold my daughter when she hissed, "That's not Carl! Carl is allergic to shrimp!"

Jaime Barthes was the only son of the wealthiest family in Hartow City. Ever since he was a child, he could have anything he wanted. On his fifteenth birthday, he fell for Eden Hawthorn the moment he first saw her. Right then and there, he boldly declared, "She belongs to me, and nobody should ever think about touching her!" During the entire decade of their marriage, he was obsessively protective of her. She was forbidden from any kind of interaction with men, and she had to employ the help of her assistant for something as mundane as handing a report to a male colleague. Everyone assumed this was simply Jaime's love language. One day, he caught a terminal disease. The entire nation frantically searched high and low for a matching heart donor, and when they finally found one, Eden decided to give the heart to another man named Jericho Brown.

The air conditioner in our apartment was broken. I asked my wife, Maya Cullen, several times if we could buy a new one, but she refused every time. "Evan, just hang in there a little longer. As soon as we get paid next month, we'll buy one." It was 102 degrees outside. Every night, we lay awake fanning ourselves, exhausted from the heat. I couldn't stand watching Maya suffer, so I borrowed 5,000 dollars from a friend and gave her the money to order an air conditioner. She placed the order, yet it never arrived. After I asked her about it twice, Maya finally lost her temper and slammed her phone down. "Evan, are you serious? It's a little heat. Deal with it. I'm swamped with work, and I don't have time to worry about your stupid air conditioner!" I quietly picked up her phone and didn't mention it again. Two weeks later, while Maya was in the shower, I used her phone to check the delivery status. It said the air conditioner had already been delivered. But not to us. It had been delivered to an address in another city. I spent ages arguing with the shipping company, but they insisted they hadn't made a mistake. With no other option, I called the person who signed for it. "Hi. I'm calling about an air conditioner you received a few days ago. I think it may have been delivered to the wrong address..." The man on the other end sounded confused. "That can't be right. My wife bought that air conditioner. We had it installed a few days ago." His wife? My breath caught. When I finally spoke, my voice was unsteady. "Is… Is your wife's last name Cullen?"

I accompany my pregnant wife, Noelle Sutton, to meet her biological family. At the celebration banquet, Maeve Sutton, the adopted daughter of the Suttons, splashes half a glass of red wine in my face. Then, with tears in her eyes, she says to Noelle, "Noelle, I know you hate me for taking your place, but you can't just bring some broke nobody home just to disgust Mom and Dad!" My mother-in-law, Penny Miller, points at Noelle and snaps, "Get rid of that thing in your stomach, or don't expect us to acknowledge you as our daughter!" Kenneth Wright steps up and openly leers at my wife. "What future do you have with a loser like him? You should come with me instead." The entire hall watches me. I pull my trembling wife behind me, take out a napkin, and calmly wipe the wine from my face. "I was willing to let you treat me like an ordinary man," I say icily. "But you're the ones who pushed your luck."

I have crippling social anxiety, so online dating is the only kind of dating I can handle. The day I was reunited with my wealthy biological family, Flynn Davidson, the son they'd raised in my place, tearfully offered to give his engagement back to me. I quickly waved him off. "No, no. I'm good. I have a girlfriend." The moment the words left my mouth, several lines of text suddenly appeared in front of me. [I'm dying. The villain is turning down the engagement now, but just wait until he sees the heroine. He'll regret it immediately.] [The heroine only has eyes for the fake heir. This guy keeps shoving his chat history in her face and refuses to leave her alone.] [In the end, he drives the hero into such severe depression that he slits his wrists. The heroine hates him so much that she breaks his arms and legs and locks him in a psychiatric hospital.] What a joke. With my social anxiety, how could I possibly harass some woman I'd never even met? Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Flynn hurried over, his eyes red. "Sloan, this is my brother, Cullen Davidson. The man you were originally supposed to marry." I turned around and found myself staring at a familiar face. Sloan Patrick. My girlfriend of six years. The girlfriend I'd only ever dated online.

My CEO wife, Quinn White, and I have been married for seven years. She suffers from severe insomnia, and only the medicinal bath I blend can relieve her symptoms. On the night of our seventh anniversary, after I prepare her bath, she takes the initiative to check into a hotel room with her ex-boyfriend, Oliver Green, to play poker. Oliver sends me a photo to gloat and mock me. So, I toss the medicinal herbs into the trash, draft a divorce agreement, and send it to Quinn. After searching high and low for renowned doctors and suffering through innumerable sleepless nights, she realizes I'm the most important person in her life.

In the eighth year of our marriage, I was on my way to drop my daughter off at school when I got a call from a hotel. "Is this Ms. Ariel Winters? Your husband, Vince Weaver, left his watch here." My blood went cold. Ariel Winters was my wife. Vince Weaver was my sworn brother. I rushed to my sister, desperate for her to deny it. She didn't even flinch. Instead, she gave me a calm, steady lecture. "Edwin, they already have a child together. Just pretend you don't know. Ariel didn't want you to get hurt. That's the only reason we agreed to keep it from you." Before I could speak, my brother-in-law cut in. "Yeah, Edwin, don't blame Vince for this. You're both fathers. Try to see it from his side." My brother-in-law was another member of our so-called sworn brotherhood. And now, he wanted me to forgive the man who had wrecked my family — and his secret child. Turns out I was the extra piece in every relationship I had: family, friendship, and love.

My girlfriend, Lilith Fordson, has a lot of quirks. She creates her own marriage vouchers and tells me that she'll marry me after I collect 19 of them. She gives me one when she's happy and gives me another one when I give her a present. I get another one when she misses my birthday because of work. She gives me another one when she wakes up late and misses the chance to send me off when I leave for a business trip. I know that Lilith is ready to marry me when I eventually collect 18 marriage vouchers. I buy a bouquet of roses to surprise her with a proposal. However, when I return home, I see my best friend Declan Smith's car parked outside my apartment. Lilith and Declan are hugging in his car. They kiss each other passionately, looking as if they wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in each other's arms forever. As I stiffly and slowly approach the car, I hear Declan say mockingly, "I feel so sorry for Theo, Lilith. He has no idea that you're actually compensating him for your betrayals every time you give him a marriage acceptance voucher. "He told me that he only needs one more voucher. You're not actually going to marry him when the time comes, are you? You're not going to just cast me aside, right?" Lilith pecks his lips and says, "Don't worry, darling. I won't give him the last voucher. I'll only settle down and marry him after I've had my fill of playing around." It turns out that every wedding acceptance voucher is actually proof of Lilith's betrayal. I turn around without any hesitation and throw the bouquet into the trash. I then grab my phone and call Mom. "I'm ready to go home, Mom. I'll marry Luna Ellis, the daughter of the mafia boss."

My buddy, Adam Page, calls me and says that his mom is hospitalized, and he can't rush back in time. He asks me to submit his competition entry that is due tonight. We're both in the competition, but I have already submitted my entry. I'm just about to say yes to helping him when my mouse suddenly jerks. "Don't you dare click it! If you submit his entry for him, you'll lose your first-place prize and the 20,000 dollars prize money! He'll even go on livestream and accuse you of stealing his work, saying that you cost him the prize money and caused his mom to die because she couldn't afford treatment. You'll be torn apart by online bullying, saddled with a huge debt, and end up losing everything!" My hands shake, and I immediately stop what I'm doing. My mouse jerks again. I close the page, create a group chat on WhatsApp, and add the advisor, Colby Jackman, and the teacher, Irene Dawson, who is in charge of the project.

After a car accident wipes my memory, my mind is stuck ten years in the past—right after I get down on one knee to propose to Angeline Stone. I tear through every app on my phone, desperate to find any proof that Angeline is actually my wife. But all I see in my contacts are numbers I don't recognize, and my WhatsApp chat list is empty. I have no choice but to call my buddy, Rick Tate, to ask him whether Angeline accepted my proposal. To my surprise, he explodes on me like a lit firecracker. "Did a donkey kick you in the head, Caleb? Did she accept your proposal? You're about to divorce her!" My first reaction after hanging up is—damn, I'm a legend. I actually managed to land an ice queen like Angeline. My second reaction is to stare blankly at the handwritten divorce agreement on the nightstand. Who wants a divorce? Me? Am I out of my mind?

Ten years after moving abroad and struggling to make something of myself, I finally achieve success. I bring one billion dollars back to my village, planning to invest the money to improve it. Familiar faces greet me when I arrive at the entrance of the village, but the man who saved me all those years ago is missing. I hastily grab the village head, Carlisle Trenton, and ask him where Barry Trenton has gone. He sighs and shakes his head, explaining that Barry has heartlessly run away after swindling the villagers' money. He also tells me that my investment money is the villagers' only hope. I don't believe a single word that Carlisle says. Everyone turns their back on me after I'm locked behind bars for a crime I didn't commit. When I'm released from prison, Barry's the only one who believes I'm innocent. He even gives me every single penny that he has and sends me abroad so I can start over. A kind and righteous person like him will never swindle the villagers' hard-earned money. Only a fool will fall for such a preposterous lie. I grab Carlisle by the collar and stare into his evasive eyes. "Tell me! Where's Barry? What did you do to him?"

Mom is hospitalized for 20 days with a serious illness. My girlfriend, Nicole Davis, works as a doctor at the same hospital. Still, she doesn't visit Mom at all. On the first day, Nicole takes time off to help her childhood friend, Kevin Shaw, move. On the second, Kevin starts interning at the hospital, so Nicole spends the entire day showing him the ropes and taking care of every little thing for him. The third day passes, then the fourth. Mom's room is on the 13th floor, while Nicole works on the 17th. They're only four floors apart, which means a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Still, 20 days pass without Nicole ever making it down those four floors. On the day Mom is discharged, I take her to the train station alone. While we're on the way, I finally receive a text from Nicole. "Kevin's dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to take it to the vet first." This time, I finally break my silence. "Okay, got it. Be safe." Then, I smile and add, "And one more thing. We're done."