เรื่องสั้นแนว Melodramatic และนิยาย Mistress Biological Family

I told Charlie my biggest secret—I was the long-lost daughter of the powerful Moore family in Dreslane. He swore he'd help me reunite with them. But the night before I met them, the Moore family made a grand declaration—they'd already found their missing daughter. A ceremony was set. I rushed there, heart pounding, only to see Charlie standing beside his childhood friend, Raine. She was being introduced as the Moore heiress. And somehow, she had the exact same birthmark as me. Before I could do anything, Charlie locked me in a restroom. "It's just a name," he said. "You still have me. So why does this matter? Raine's parents died saving me—she never had a real family. For my sake, can't you just let her have this?" Then, to erase any doubt, to make sure Raine could live as me without fear—Charlie took a knife and carved the birthmark off my body. The shock. The pain. I lost my three-month-old unborn baby that night. And as I lay there, blood soaking through my clothes, I finally gave up.

In the fifth year of my spiritual practice, my phone suddenly exploded with messages. [Aria, why aren't you replying? Are you really that petty?] Puzzled, I opened Messenger, and froze. My cousin, who never seemed to measure up to me and always went out of her way to oppose me, was getting married, and she expected me to attend. "Sorry, I've been busy lately. I won't be able to make it," I replied politely. However, my courteous response only fueled their ridicule. "Stop pretending! You haven't kept in touch with your family for years. Are you too embarrassed because your life is such a mess?" "She won't even come to her own cousin's wedding? How heartless!" "Let me guess, the real reason she can't come is she can't afford a wedding gift." One cutting remark after another appeared, until Betty Stewart stepped in, feigning concern. "Come on, don't be so harsh on Aria. We're family, after all." "If she's really struggling, I could ask my husband to help her get a cleaning job." Then she sent me the digital invitation, the gold lettering gleaming. When I saw the groom's name, my pupils constricted in shock. Joseph Clark? Wasn't he the short-lived husband who had spent three years sucking up to me just to extend his life?

After my father-in-law, Anthony Randall, has undergone a coronary artery bypass surgery, he decides to visit the company to inspect the new project. I've ordered the project department to prepare a stable, smooth-riding man basket. But what I receive is a dangerous-looking man basket that doesn't have any safety measures installed in it. Anisa Howell, the first love of my husband, Conner Randall, speaks up mockingly at that moment. "Since your junk-collecting dad wants to collect more junk in the construction site, it's only natural that I, the person in charge of this project, hold the fort for Mr. Randall. "Then again, I've always been a soft-hearted person. This man basket might be malfunctioning, but it's perfectly adequate to send you guys to your destination." Realization dawns on me immediately. Anisa must have mistaken Anthony as my actual dad, who works as a farmer in the countryside. I'm about to explain to her that Anthony has just undergone a heart surgery and cannot suffer from any emotional distress caused by any factors, including tall heights. But Anisa quickly commands her workers to shove us into the man basket before pulling down the lever, which will cause it to ascend rapidly. Poor Anthony has gone deathly pale from the fright. He keeps clutching at his chest hopelessly the whole time. But Anisa has the audacity to flaunt her privileges over the walkie-talkie. "I'm a VIP of a bungee-jumping club. Today, I'll let you have a taste of what it feels like to soar through the skies."

After my half sister, Serena Hawke, transferred to Ashmere University, she bet me she could steal Damian Cross from me within a month. I dismissed her. From that day on, Damian became a permanent second-place finisher. The first time Serena beat him, he frowned and said, "One point. I only lost by one point." After that, he calculated their scores every day. Over meals, he muttered, "How did she solve it?" Before bed, he stared at the rankings and said, "I'll beat her next time." He praised her clear reasoning, quick reactions, and even her handwriting. In the laboratory, he chose the seat beside her and responded only to her during group discussions. When I asked him to see a movie with me, he waved me off. "Serena sent me a new problem. I need to work it out." His phone was full of screenshots of her notes. Her class schedule hung beside his bed. Even in his sleep, he murmured about surpassing her. I watched the attention that had once belonged entirely to me shift toward my sister, inch by inch. Then my birthday came. Damian never showed up. I called thirty-seven times. He rejected every call. When he finally answered, he lowered his voice. "Rena asked me to watch the game with her. Wait a little longer." He hung up, and Serena immediately sent me her location: the third-floor lounge at the arena. When I opened the door, her arms were wrapped around his neck. The thread I had held taut inside my chest for half a year finally snapped. All that remained was a deep, aching exhaustion that seeped into my bones. Damian reached toward me in panic. "Rowan..." I stepped back. Anyone who could be taken from me was no longer someone I wanted.

An hour before the registration deadline, I woke up with a start in my hotel bed in Escal. I realized that my boyfriend, Brannon Zimmer, and my adopted sister, Luna Hearn, were both gone. I quickly called them both to urge them to register right away. Instead, I was met with a burst of laughter on the other end. “We’ve flown back home already. We finished applying last night. Haven’t you applied yet?” In the background, I could hear my parents grumbling. “That’s just how she is. She’s so carefree and thoughtless that she doesn’t even pay attention to her own affairs. “Couldn’t she be more sensible like Luna?” It was a lively scene on the other end of the line, but I was shaking with panic. I had almost missed the deadline. After our test scores came out, the three of us had agreed to apply to the same university. Luna had been agonizing over her choice, while Brannon had looked at her with nothing but affection. “No rush. We’ll help you take your time choosing.” Then, he casually told me, “Just go with whatever we pick. Have a blast in Escal these next few days.” Just then, my phone vibrated. Brannon had sent me Southshire University’s application code. “Stop dawdling. The deadline’s almost up.” I stared at the application screen. My eyes stung with tears. My score had been about 120 points higher than theirs. It turned out that no one cared about the “sacrifice” I thought I was giving them. One second before the deadline, I clicked the “Apply” button and chose the one farthest from home, Attarport University. With three of us, it would have been too crowded. So, I stepped aside on my own.

In the seventh year of our secret relationship, Alex Timbers became the hero pilot the whole country was talking about. His flight had run into extreme weather. Somehow, on nerve and skill alone, he'd brought the plane down safely. I watched the livestream the whole time, crying so hard I could barely stand. Then, ten minutes later, during an on-site interview at the airport, a three-year-old boy ducked under the barricade and threw himself into Alex's arms, sobbing and calling him Dad. Right behind him came my best friend, Natalie Wilde, her eyes red. In front of the entire country, Alex pulled them both into his arms. Before I could even process it, two more familiar faces appeared on screen. My mother, Susan Healey, hugged Natalie, her voice breaking. "It's over now, Natalie. Alex made it back alive. You and the boy finally have someone to lean on." My father, Dale Healey, clapped Alex on the shoulder, beaming. "Your family of three is whole again. Nothing beats that." In that instant, every drop of blood in my body ran cold. Over the past seven years, I'd had three miscarriages because of Alex. Each time, he'd held me and sworn, eyes red, "Mary, for your reputation, I can't let you have a child out of wedlock. Once I make captain, we'll get married." I laughed until the laughter turned into tears, blurring my vision. It wasn't just Alex. My parents had been standing with them the whole time. I'd been the only one left waiting, seven years, in a place no one could see. I typed out in the livestream's comment section: [Congratulations.]

The day I got laid off, I called my boyfriend, but he never picked up. I rode home on my electric scooter in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, clutching a cardboard box as I awkwardly pushed open the front door. The house was packed. My family, relatives, and friends were all there. In the middle of the room, my boyfriend and my best friend stood before my parents, accepting their congratulations as the newlyweds. The moment I appeared, the lively room fell deathly silent. The cardboard box slipped from my hands, scattering its contents across the floor. Zane Ward walked toward me, looking at me calmly. "What are you doing here?" I stared at him, my voice trembling as I demanded an answer. "What… What are you doing?" His expression was complicated, but he finally let out a long sigh. "Sophia and I got married last year. We're just having the wedding ceremony today." A roar filled my ears. Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. "Get out! Both of you, get out! This is my house! All of you, get out!" The next second, one of my friends shoved me outside. They shielded the newlyweds behind them. "How could you hit him?" "Exactly. We only kept it from you because we were afraid you'd be hurt. Otherwise, Zane would have broken up with you a long time ago!" Amid the chaotic shouting, my parents walked over to me, disappointment written across their faces. "This house doesn't belong to you. We gave it to Sophia as their new home." "Today is their wedding day. Don't make a scene. Just go back to your room." The blood in my veins seemed to freeze. Five years together. Three years living under the same roof. My boyfriend had become my best friend's legal husband. My parents had secretly given them a home to start their married life. Every relative and friend had gathered to wish them well. And there I stood, like some pathetic fool, making a spectacle of myself.

Once again, I had an episode. My best friend rushed forward and snatched the knife from my hand, her face twisted with resentment. "How long are you going to keep this up? You think you can act however you want just because you have depression? No wonder Nolan left you!" I froze. My best friend, however, looked relieved. "I should have told you sooner. Nolan specifically asked me to stay with you today because he was afraid you'd try to ruin his wedding to Evelyn." She blocked the doorway, looking self-righteous. "Let me make this clear. Even if you cut your wrists and died right here today, you still can't keep trying to come between them. So what if you once helped Nolan? After all these years of him taking care of you, he's more than paid you back!" Not long after, my mother hurried over to take my best friend's place. She was supposed to be one of the bridesmaids. My mother pleaded with me. "Our family wouldn't have made it this far without Nolan. You have to be a good person and let him go find his happiness." A crushing sense of absurdity washed over me. Nolan Drake's message was still sitting quietly on my phone. "Honey, I'm going overseas to see a doctor who's important to you. Don't worry. I'll make sure you get better. Once you're well, we'll get married." I collapsed to the floor, tears falling silently onto the screen. They had no idea I had cancer. I had already decided I did not want to become a burden to Nolan. I gave my mother a bitter smile. "Fine. I promise. I'll give Nolan what he wants."

On our eighth anniversary, my boyfriend, Liam Daniels, dragged me along to plan his marriage proposal. That exact morning, my pregnancy test came back positive. Outwardly, I teased him for ruining the surprise. Privately, I called everyone I knew to brag. My parents wept over the phone, saying time flew by too fast. My best friend, Mia Kyle, promised to beat him up if he ever stepped out of line. Even my older sister, Sarah Davis, choked up, swearing she would be there no matter how busy work got. On the big night, I wore the white dress Liam bought me. When I stepped into the venue, I realized the proposal had been transformed into a full wedding reception. I watched Liam Daniels as he dropped to one knee, tears in his eyes while looking at my adopted sister, Tiana. "Will you marry me?" he asked her. My parents stepped out from behind the curtain holding fresh bouquets. "Tiana, we want your happiness more than anything. Stop giving up your dreams for your sister." Mia Kyle walked onstage carrying the ring box. "As your best friend, I just want you to put yourself first for once." Sarah pulled a stack of property deeds from her bag. "Here's your dowry. No one will ever push you around again." I froze. I was never the bride. I was just an unpaid wedding planner. Everyone I loved had helped construct the lie.