Cerita Pendek & Novel Reborn Marriage

On my wedding day, my husband's female bestie showed up holding a torn bridesmaid dress and accused me of assaulting her in front of all our guests. I had no way to defend myself, so I turned to my husband for help. Instead, he looked at me with fake disappointment and publicly labeled me a lesbian. Then, to get his hands on my family's assets, he had me committed to a psychiatric hospital, where I was tortured and humiliated. I barely managed to escape, only to die in a car accident they'd carefully planned. It wasn't until my final moments that I found out the truth—the torn bridesmaid dress wasn't evidence of my crime. It was proof of their affair in the stairwell moments before the ceremony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my dressing room, minutes before the wedding. This time, I'm going to make sure those two pay for everything.

In my last life, Kyle Ravenwood and I were the mate pair every wolf in Ravenwood Pack envied. He was the Alpha of our pack. I was Alia Blackthorn, his fated mate and the Luna he had chosen in front of the Moon Council. Under the full-moon bonfire, he went down on one knee, took my hand, and swore he would never recognize anyone but me as his Luna. After that, we led Ravenwood together until our hair turned silver. So when I opened my eyes and found myself back at the beginning, before his public Luna announcement, I thought he would come for me again. Instead, I heard him in the healer's back room, speaking in a low voice to his most trusted guard. "In my last life, Lila was sent to the Frostfang Pack as an alliance bride. She didn't survive a year there. I can't watch that happen again." "I’ll complete the mate contract with Lila first. Two days from now, once she gets past that death trap, I’ll break the contract and go back for Alia." His guard sounded uneasy. "And Miss Alia? She’s your fated mate." Kyle fell silent for a moment. When he answered, his voice was so low it seemed pressed down by the dark. "The witch’s forgetting potion will make her forget me for a while. When this is over, I’ll bring her the antidote and make her remember. She loves me. She’ll understand." He didn’t know I was standing right outside the door. He didn’t know the witch’s forgetting potion had never had a true antidote. Two days from now, I’ll forget him completely.

After I get detained in the police station, my husband, Gavin Pratt, specifically comes over to bail me out. But I grip a policeman's arm without letting go. "I'm the one who did it! Hurry up and arrest me!" In my previous life, I was surrounded by the family members of a car crash victim. A bar owner and a saleswoman who sold cosmetics were there as well. They claimed that I had gone into a drunken frenzy and stole perfume from the store. On top of that, I even ran a red light and hit someone with my car. I kept explaining the truth to everyone, yet no one believed me. Instead, they all had me surrounded and beat me up till I died. When I wake up again, I've returned to the day I'm detained inside the police station.

“Brother, I’ve decide to get a divorce.” There was only a moment’s dead silence on the line. Then, Gilbert Cross’s voice came through, “You just married Vittorio yesterday!” I pondered it in my mind, a bitter smile touching my lips. It wasn't yesterday. It had been exactly 6,209 days. In my previous life,for the seventeen years of my marriage to Vittorio Croft, we were indeed the picture of perfect harmony. However, our fragile illusion came into pieces the day my older sister passed away from a critical illness. Grief-stricken, Vittorio suddenly fell severely ill himself. When he finally woke up from his coma, his assistant asked, “Sir, what about Silvia Cross?” Vittorio hadn't even blinked. He replied in a flat, indifferent tone, “Don't bother with her. She was originally nothing but a burden. I married her so that I could stay by her sister's side forever — if not as a lover, then as family.” Standing right outside the door, clutching a tray of warm soup, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn on the very first morning after our wedding. We had just held the lavish ceremony, but the official paperwork hadn't been registered yet. I knew exactly what I had to do. Without a second thought, I took a pen and crossed out my name on the application form. In its place, I quickly wrote down Silvia Croft. From this moment forward, my past was buried, and I would never cross paths with Vittorio again.

"Amara…I regret it. Spending this life with you was the biggest mistake of my life. If I were given another life…I would choose to be with Planette." I had believed that through sixty years of wind and rain, they had become the inseparable flesh and blood of each other’s lives, waiting only to renew their vows in the next life. But his words were like a venomous dagger. My lifelong pride, the man I had poured my entire soul into loving, had trampled my sixty years of devotion into the mud and shattered it completely, using the most vicious method at the very end of his life. "Puff." A mouthful of blood suddenly sprayed across the pristine white bed sheet. I didn't even have time to let out a complete cry of agony. My pupils instantly dilated and lost focus as I fell rigidly backward. In the end, I couldn't survive the night. When I woke up again, I was reborn back to the age of twenty-eight, the very day after we got married.

Before my death, I repeatedly remind my son, Clark Sinclair, what to do after I pass away. I stress that my heart must be donated to my husband, Craig Sinclair. He has suffered from dilated cardiomyopathy for 30 years. This is the last thing I can do for him. Clark shakes me off impatiently and snaps, "Enough. Stop pretending to be kind. Dad was never sick." I think I must have misheard him. "What?" He lets out a cold laugh and continues, "If you hadn't refused to divorce him all these years, why would he have needed to fake an illness just to be with Vern in secret?" My whole body trembles as I demand proof. Clark hands me a marriage certificate. On it are the names Craig and Verna Bloom, my widowed sister-in-law. The two lean against each other intimately, smiling sweetly at the camera. In an instant, rage and grief overwhelm me. The family I spend half my life building turns out to be nothing more than a complete lie. Clark continues expressionlessly, "Actually, Vern is my real mother. Your child was drowned in a bathtub long ago. Back then, Dad and Vern couldn't resist each other. She went into premature labor and nearly bled to death. She gave birth to me on the same day you gave birth. "Dad was so frightened that he developed heart palpitations. He was afraid you'd never stop causing trouble if you found out, so he pretended to be sick for 30 years." Curled up on the floor, I cough up a mouthful of blood. "Why tell me now?" Clark looks at me with eyes full of nothing but hatred. "You stole Vern's place for 30 years. And now, even on your deathbed, you want my dad to owe you a favor. Why should he?" An inexplicably bitter taste fills my mouth. In the end, I die consumed by regret. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the delivery room next to Verna's. A wave of excruciating pain surges through my lower body.

On the day of my husband, Ruben Castille's funeral, a grief-stricken woman shows up at the venue. After putting down the white lilies, she doesn't walk away. Instead, she chooses to approach me. "Honestly speaking, I've been envious of you for 30 years." I frown at her in confusion. Her lips just quirk into a small smile as her gaze falls onto Ruben's portrait. Soon, her eyes redden out of emotion. "Over the past 30 years, he's given me everything, be it love, time, and money. On top of that, he's very generous, too." The woman pauses for a moment. She then tilts her head to look at me, her voice now tinged with resentment. "But his only condition is that I'm not allowed to cause any trouble in front of you." My heart skips a beat. "What do you mean by that?" The woman laughs in return. "You two were married for 30 years. Similarly, Ruben and I were together for 30 years. Ashlee Drayton, he had already betrayed you a long time ago." After that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me rooted to the spot while feeling my limbs going cold. My eyes go wide, and I begin breathing heavily. The betrayal and lies that have lasted for 30 years trigger me instantly, causing me to collapse at the venue. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ruben plans on proposing to me. "Ashlee, will you marry me?" I fall silent for a moment. Then, I accept the ring, only to throw it into a nearby drain without hesitation.

After I was rescued from a staged kidnapping, my wife, Vanessa, moved out of our bedroom on her own. No matter how I explained, she insisted I had been attacked because I had cheated. Even when I tried to touch her, she screamed and threw up on me. Friends and relatives looked at me with more and more pity. Everyone told me, "Vanessa's a good woman. Stop tormenting her." Even my son snapped, "You're so filthy. Why do you have to force Mom?" From then on, I was branded a cheater and a lunatic. I spent the rest of my life in misery and despair, and in my old age, I ended that wretched life by throwing myself into a lake. Only after I died did I learn that the kidnapping had been staged by Vanessa herself. She used my guilt to make me take care of our son and her father. Meanwhile, she kept herself "pure" for the man she'd never gotten over and lived a carefree life with him. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I was rescued.

I spent decades taking care of my kid and the elderly. I ignored my stomach pain until it turned into cancer. By the end, it had eaten me alive. Before I died, I went back to my old family home to sort through my stuff. That's when I found Danny's diary. My dead husband's diary. Hidden for fifteen years. I carefully flipped through it until I reached the last page. [Some loves are worth dying for. Alicia, I'm coming with you.] The diary never mentioned me. Not once. Page after page, it was all Alicia. That was when I learned Danny hadn't died in an accident. He and Alicia Doyle—the woman he never got over—had chosen to die together. I sank onto a chair and stared at his framed photo. "Danny Caldwell, if you loved her that much, did you regret marrying me?" Blood filled my throat. I threw his picture to the floor. "Because I regret marrying you." When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past. This time, I refused to rot in a loveless marriage. I walked out and never looked back. He smirked and told his friends, "She'll crawl back. Bet she won't last three hours." But three hours passed. Then three days. Then three months. I never came back. Later, he asked when I'd return to him. My answer was simple. "Never."

My mother suddenly suffered a brain hemorrhage, and I needed to pay $80,000 for surgery immediately. I called my wife right away. Before I could finish, she cut me off impatiently. "Gabriel Cole, didn't we agree when we got married that we'd keep our finances separate? Your mother being sick is your family's problem. Why should you touch my savings? Can't you have a little respect for the contract?" Then my stepson's sneering voice came through from her side. "Uncle Gabriel, can you stop morally blackmailing my mom? As a grown man, isn't it pathetic that you can't even pay your own mother's medical bills? Stop bothering us while we're eating sushi." Because I couldn't pay the fee in time, my mother missed the best window for surgery and died. It wasn't until noon the next day that my wife called me. Her first words were an accusation. "What's wrong with you? It's already noon. Why aren't you back to cook? Don't you know Mason has tutoring this afternoon?" "My mom died of a brain hemorrhage!" I roared through gritted teeth. My wife froze for a second. The first thing she blurted out was: "Well, don't expect me to pay for the funeral. That's a matter of principle. "And your mother dying is your mother dying. That's not a reason for you to skip cooking." In that instant, I knew the devotion I'd poured out for more than ten years meant nothing to her. Rage hit my heart. I suffered a heart attack and followed my mother into death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my wife proposed separate finances after marriage.

Everyone in Riverton knew Serena Prescott, the heiress of the Prescott family, collected boyfriends for the short term and never kept them for long. In five years of marriage, she had gone through ninety-nine new lovers. People in our circle said I had world-class patience, that I was the perfect husband who could endure anything. Then a swimming coach named Mason Clark appeared at Serena's side. Mason came from an ordinary family, yet he made her break her own rule about never bringing new lovers home. Serena gave me two choices. Either calmly accept him moving in, or take the money and leave, ending our marriage. Everyone was waiting to see me swallow my pride for love and keep playing the useless, obedient husband. This time, I chose divorce. Because in my last life, I chose to endure it, and all I got was Mason pushing further and further. He forbade Serena from sharing a room with me and only allowed her to see me once a month. In the end, the two of them had a son and a daughter and lived in endless glory. I guarded a marriage that existed in name only, then died of illness in a nursing home. Now that I've been given another life, I no longer have any attachment to her. I took half the fortune in exchange for the freedom of the rest of my life.

On the day I left for a business trip, my son, Billy Smith, livestreamed his suicide attempt from our home. While I took my time shopping at the mall, my younger sister, Lori Chaney, and my husband, Greg Smith, were beside themselves with panic. By the time I got the call from Lori, I dropped everything at work and rushed home. However, I reached home to see Billy sobbing into the camera. “Mom, whenever Dad isn’t home, you bring Mr. Scott into the house. After that, you’d force me to keep it a secret. When I refused to play along, you abused me in every way you could! I also found the medical report in your nightstand. You have AIDS, but you never told Dad. I’m ashamed to have a disgusting woman like you as my mother!” Billy then jumped from the building and landed on the rescue airbag without a scratch. I, however, became the target of public outrage. I tried to clear my name, but no one believed me. After all, who would risk his own life just to frame his mother? Greg even brought me a glass of poisoned milk and forced me to drink it. He then told everyone that I had committed suicide out of shame. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been sent back in time to the day Billy threatened to kill himself.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used to fall apart over everything." He was right. The old me would have thrown a fit over something as small as him forgetting to cut my steak. But ever since the miscarriage, my heart had been dying by slow degrees. When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I wanted him to be the first to know. But I couldn't reach him, no matter how many times I called. I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged. That very afternoon, while I lay on the operating table, a photo of him and that woman hit the entertainment headlines. He never even knew I had carried a child. Now there was only one last thing I wanted from him. To drive me up to the northern coast, and bury me with his own hands. But when he realized I had truly vanished from this world, he came undone.

"Your love makes me sick." Those were the final words my husband, Vittorio De Luca, left me in my past life. On our wedding day, Elara Hale had crashed my ceremony, begging Vittorio to run away with her. But he chose to stay by my side. Yet, when Elara died of an illness shortly after, he harbored nothing but hatred for me. He detested that I had clung to him for over a decade, forcing him into a marriage he never wanted. More than that, he loathed himself for not running away with Elara. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn before everything went wrong. I looked at him, "Vittorio, I'm getting married." He looked a bit troubled. "You know I’m busy with a critical territorial expansion. My mind is entirely elsewhere…" “Never mind.” I offered a faint, indifferent smile. Relieved, Vittorio leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Don't worry. We've been together for twelve years. I'll do the right thing and take responsibility." He didn’t know what I meant, but I knew what I’d do in this lifetime. I would never choose him again, let alone marry him.

During a thunderstorm on the border, my fiancee, Eleanor Ashby, covers my retreat and falls down a cliff. The search and rescue team spends three months searching through flash floods without finding a trace of her. Everyone concludes she's dead. I refuse to give up and spend another two years looking for her. Eventually, I find her at a small clinic in a remote mountain village. But she's become the wife of the clinic's caregiver, Dylan Foster. That's when I learn she's lost her memory and fallen in love with someone else. In my previous life, I ignore her wishes and force a renowned neurosurgeon to use a high-risk treatment to restore her memories. The day her memories return, the man who has cared for and protected her for the past two years throws himself into the river in despair. Later, during an earthquake rescue mission, Eleanor and I are trapped beneath a collapsed mountainside. There's only one narrow escape route wide enough for one person. She forcibly pushes me out. Moments later, a second collapse buries her beneath a massive boulder. With her dying breath, she reaches through a crack in the rocks and grips my hand. She says in a hoarse voice, "Callum Pierce, these ten years we've spent together is repayment for the debt I owed you from the ten years before. We're even now. Neither of us owes the other anything anymore. "If there's a next life, don't let me remember the past. Please... let me be with him." Tears blur my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I find Eleanor. This time, I choose to respect her decision and let go of the life she's forgotten.

When my cheating fiancé dropped to one knee and proposed in front of everyone at our engagement party, he thought I would burst into tears and say yes. What he didn't expect was for me to snatch the microphone right out of his hand. "Sorry, I’m not marrying you." The entire room fell silent. Jason Gordon froze, the smile still lingering on his lips, as though he hadn't yet processed what I'd just said. I looked at him without the slightest ripple of emotion. Three minutes earlier, I had awakened the memories of my past life. In that life, I nodded yes at this very party. Then I watched this man slowly hollow out the company my father left me before tossing me aside like something no longer useful. Still kneeling on the floor, his voice trembled. "Claire... what... what are you talking about?" I met his eyes and smiled. "I already said I'm not marrying you." I handed the microphone back to the emcee, lifted the hem of my gown, and walked out of the ballroom without looking back. Behind me, his panicked voice rang out. "Claire Sharp! Claire, stop!" I didn't turn around.

I was the lowest-born black serpent in the Serpent Clan, yet the Dragon Court's most honored crown prince chose me as his bride. He gave up his betrothal to my sister, surrendered his place as heir, and walked away from the Dragon Court for me. I was moved beyond words and became his wife. But after I gave birth to only a black serpent, he flew into a rage. He crushed our baby beneath his foot, then killed me with a single strike of his sword. As I was dying, I saw hatred burning in his eyes. "If I'd known you were this useless, I should've married your sister!" Only then did I learn the truth. I was the woman of fate named in the Dragon Court's forbidden book, the one born with primordial blood. If I gave birth to a primordial child, he would be able to secure the dragon throne. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the bride selection. This time, Adrian chose my sister, the woman who had given birth to a golden dragon in our previous life, without the slightest hesitation. I laughed and chose a lowly worm servant instead. Adrian didn't know that I truly did carry primordial power. He was simply born with a broken essence. Without me, he was meant to die childless. In this life, I would give birth to the true primordial child. And I would make sure he never inherited the Dragon Court.

On my wedding anniversary, my three-year-old son gave me an alpaca as a gift. I turned right around and shipped it off to the circus, where I found it a strapping alpaca husband. All because I'd been reborn. In my last life, that alpaca was sweet and gentle with everyone—except me. Every single day, it spat on me. Determined not to disappoint my son, I tried everything to win it over, but nothing worked. My mind unraveled. I stopped sleeping. I started hearing things that weren't there, and every night I dreamed of that alpaca chasing me down to spit in my face. My husband called me vicious. My son called me petty. And the two of them only grew closer to that alpaca by the day. Worn down and broken, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and ended it. Floating above my own body after death, I watched in shock as it stood back up on its own. My son ran sobbing into "my" arms. "Mom, you're finally not an alpaca anymore!" My husband smiled and pulled them both into an embrace. "Nadia, you've been through so much. If it weren't for needing a healthy body to move your soul into, you'd never have had to suffer inside that alpaca for two years." That was when I finally understood. That alpaca had been Nadia Salem all along—the sickly impostor who'd stolen my identity for over twenty years.

On the day I received my wife's prenatal checkup report, I suddenly heard the inner voice of the unborn baby in her belly. 'Daddy, Mommy is going to divorce you right after she gives birth to me! 'Since her first love is infertile, Mommy wants to give birth to a son so she can run away and live happily ever after with him!' Believing this without a shadow of a doubt, I resolutely chose to get a divorce. However, after the divorce, my health rapidly deteriorated day by day, and I was eventually diagnosed with terminal cancer. While undergoing chemotherapy at the hospital, I crossed paths with my ex-wife. Once again, I heard the voice of the baby still in her womb. 'Haha! In truth, Mommy never cheated on you at all! I lied to you!' Why did the baby lie? I couldn't understand it even up to the moment of my death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day my wife's prenatal checkup report came out.

On my way home after a night shift, my wife, Lilian Jones, the associate chief of neurosurgery, suddenly called. "Honey, Garrett Lowe in Room 9 has suffered a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. You're the only surgeon in the hospital who can perform this operation. Come back now!" In my previous life, I did not hesitate. I made a U-turn and sped back to the hospital. However, by the time I burst into the operating room, Garrett was already dead on the table. Right in front of his family and the entire surgical team, Lilian slapped me across the face and insisted that my surgical error had cost Garrett his life. The hospital immediately suspended me from clinical duties, stripped me of my position as an attending neurosurgeon, and suspended my medical license for six months. Three days later, Garrett's family ambushed me outside the emergency department and stabbed me to death in broad daylight. Only after I died did I learn the truth. To give surgical resident Ethan Smith a chance to gain hands-on experience, Lilian violated hospital protocol and allowed him to take the lead in the operation. His inexperience cost Garrett his life, and I was nothing more than the scapegoat they sacrificed to cover it up. Less than a week after my funeral, the two of them moved in together openly. A few years later, they even became the hospital's model couple, admired and envied by everyone. "The patient's already under anesthesia, and the OR is fully prepped. Where are you?" Lilian's voice came through the phone again in this life, her barely concealed panic impossible to miss. I fell silent for a moment before answering in a hoarse voice, "Okay. I'll be right there."