Historias cortas y novelas de Mistress Tragic Love

Our wedding was canceled again and again because Lynn’s childhood friend kept pretending to commit suicide. I was humiliated in front of relatives and friends, and my mother was so angered that she repeatedly fainted and was hospitalized. Lynn Wensley was filled with regret and anger, even swearing, “If I ever run off with that bastard again, I’ll die a terrible death.” I believed her. However, when I finally gathered the courage to stand in the center of the crowd again, Kyle Lane barged into the wedding wearing a blood-stained suit. As a doctor, I recognized at a glance that it was fake blood dye, but when I grabbed Lynn to explain, she slapped me hard and knocked me to the ground. “Someone is dying and you’re still trying to stop me? Are you even human? If anything happens to him, you’ll all pay for it!” Then, she ran after him without looking back. My mother suffered a sudden heart attack from the shock and died in my arms. Meanwhile, Lynn was celebrating Kyle’s safety with fireworks above the city sky. After I finished handling my mother’s funeral, I received a text from her: [Trust me, there won’t be a next time.] My face was pale, but I felt nothing. There was no anger or sadness. There really would not be a next time. It was completely the end for us.

"I've been assigned to work out of town for a year, Hunter, but we'll finally be able to buy a house once I return," Queenie Sorenson, my newlywed wife, says. She then moves her paralyzed grandfather, Oscar Sorenson, and her younger brother, Adam Sorenson, straight into our rental apartment after telling me that. She looks at me and says, "I'll have to trouble you to take care of Grandpa and Adam." She leaves in a hurry after that. I have taken care of Oscar's daily needs entirely on my own and handled dropping off and picking up Adam from kindergarten since that day, working around the clock. Queenie goes from frequently sending messages to check in on me to claiming she is too swamped with work to have any free time, rarely even calling. I finally make it through the year, but Queenie sends me a message, saying, "I'm still not done with my work, so I might need to stay for another year." It isn't until Adam's birthday that I find a message from Queenie on his smartwatch. "Joseph and I will pick you up at the usual spot on Friday to celebrate your birthday. You can just tell Hunter that you're sleeping over at a classmate's house Friday night and won't be home. You have to make sure he doesn't catch on." I realize then that Queenie's supposed out-of-town assignment has actually always been within the city.

Three years into our marriage, my wife brought home a ten-year-old boy. She said he was the orphaned son of her late best friend. I believed her. I treated him like my own child. Until I found official records listing that so-called orphan as my son. When I confronted my wife, I saw a pinned message on her phone. “Thanks for working so hard, babe. Once Noah is old enough, I’ll make sure Lucas leaves with nothing.” My world collapsed. They thought I was just another fool they could play. They forgot one thing. My last name is Barner. And my father serves as the deputy commander of the Southern Command.

It's Grandpa's birthday banquet, and yet my fiancee is working late again, missing her one chance to meet the family. My brother and his wife, still bitter about me taking the project from them, don't waste the opening. "What good is all his money when his fiancee can't even show up on a day this important? She clearly doesn't take him seriously." "That's why Archer's the smart one. He landed himself Claire Donovan, of all people. Even her throwaway gifts start at seven figures." I'm about to fire back when the familiar name stops me cold. My eyes lock onto the bracelet of dark wooden beads the butler carries in. It's identical to the one my fiancee just spent a fortune on a few days ago. My gaze turns to ice as I snatch the bracelet from his hands. "Return this. Tell them it's a fake, and Grandpa's furious. And didn't you want to meet my fiancee? She's walking through that door right now."

The day I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer, I curled up alone in the hospital hallway, trembling from the pain. I called Ethan Ford ninety-eight times. He rejected every single call. On the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. But instead of his voice, I heard Claire Leedon laughing. Then Ethan spoke, his voice cold and impatient. “Stop pretending you're dying. Claire's afraid of the dark. I can't leave her.” I opened his social media page. His latest post was a photo of them kissing beneath the Northern Lights. “You're the only one I'll ever choose.” I laughed until I coughed up a mouthful of blood, staining the diagnosis report in my hands. Then I tore it to pieces and tossed them into the trash. Ethan Ford, you got what you wanted. I’d never bother you again.

Amanda Gordon, my girlfriend, could never get quantities right. She always purchased one extra of everything. On our dates, she always ordered for three. “Oops, I ordered too much. Why don’t we invite Kevin too?” On my birthday, she bought two gifts. “Oops, I bought one too many. Why don’t we give it to Kevin?” After a while, I grew used to it and simply accepted that as my new normal. On the day of our wedding attire fitting, Amanda suddenly reached out and stopped me. “Leigh, the suit I designed for you is over there. This one is for the best man. I had it made for Kevin.” I looked up at the best man’s suit in front of me. It was sharply tailored, with clean, structured lines and tiny silver crystals set into the collar. The groom’s suit she had left for me, meanwhile, was plain, wrinkled, and stained. I finally decided to leave her at that moment. She had given the only bespoke suit she could commission to Kevin Burg. There was nothing left in this relationship worth holding on to. I quietly looked at my phone and sent a message to my former professor, Lawrence Hindle, who lived far away in Westmere. [Dr. Hindle, does your institute still have an opening for me?]

I have a secret. When I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most. Since Natalie moved in next door when we were seven, I always saw myself in her heart. At eighteen, when she held my hand—it was me. At twenty-two, when she proposed—it was me. On our wedding night, when she kissed me—it was still me. On the morning of our third anniversary, I fixed the hem of her dress. My fingers grazed her ankle. Out of habit, I closed my eyes. This time, I saw two faces. Mine. And some guy I'd never seen before. That night, Natalie's phone lit up. [Thanks for spending today with me, Natalie.] Twenty-one years. A hundred thousand touches. And for the first time, I was wrong.

To get back at me for taking one extra piece of lettuce at dinner, Simon Quinn drugged me right after my surgery and left me with a stomach perforation. My wife finally managed to book a specialist appointment for me, but Simon suddenly claimed his own stomach hurt so badly he couldn't stand it and stole my slot. I begged my wife to take me to the hospital first. She told me to endure it. Then, when I called an ambulance myself, she punished me by having someone hang me upside down in the bedroom. "If we hadn't had to eat those awful health meals with you, why would Simon's stomach hurt? "I heard hanging upside down helps stomach pain. After a few minutes, you'll naturally feel better." The pain made my body convulse. I cried and begged her to send me to the hospital. Instead, she kicked me hard in the abdomen. "Stop acting. Don't think I don't know you're just jealous of Simon! "Someone as kind as Simon would never drug you. If anything, you're the one who might've slipped something into the food to make his stomach hurt. Once the results come out, I won't let you off!" I grabbed her pant leg in agony. "I'm not lying. He told me himself he drugged me. Please, for the sake of our eight years together, give the specialist appointment back to me." She stepped on my hand in disgust. "You just had surgery. How could anything happen to you? Stop trying to drive a wedge between us. If you weren't such good househusband material, I would've divorced you long ago." Later, after she saw that Simon was perfectly fine, she finally remembered me. But the housekeeper was trembling all over. "Mr. Bowman died a long time ago..."

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding."

My son, Leo Hayes, is the city's top SAT scorer. He dies in a horrific accident while working a part‑time job, his body left broken beyond recognition. And on the night he takes his last breath, his mother and my wife, Madeline Shaw, stands beneath chandeliers, toasting the graduation of her childhood friend Jeffrey Locke's son, Melvin Locke. For 18 years, Madeline spends everything we earn on Melvin's medical bills, and our debts soar past the million mark. To hold our family together, I grind through 14-hour days every day, while Leo shoulders five jobs after school. But on his way to a shift, Leo is mangled in a terrible crash. The impact fractures his skull and rips open his abdomen. He is bleeding out, and the doctors say he needs a huge amount of money, fast, to save him. "Dad, I'm done fighting. I just want to see Mom," Leo begs, clinging to his last breath. I call Madeline over a hundred times in desperation, but she never answers. When I rush to her workplace, I find her hosting a graduation party for someone else's son. "A beachfront villa from Mrs. Hayes, in recognition of Melvin's brilliant results." "A high-end sports car, as a token for a future filled with success." "And an unlimited black card, to safeguard his health and happiness forever." From the edge of the crowd, I watch Madeline and Jeffrey locked in an embrace under the lights, and I dial her number for the 101st time. "Leo wants to see you one last time." "Lucas, I'm in the middle of something. Just be patient and stay with Leo. I'll be there soon." Before I can say another word, the line goes dead. I lower the phone and look up at the stage. "Madeline, our son is done waiting for you, and so am I."

Once my future father-in-law, Terrence, bounced back from a terrible car accident, my fiancée, Sarah, promised me a surprise for nursing him back to health. To my dread, Sarah said yes to her ex’s proposal right under Terrence’s nose during his hospital discharge the very next day. Faced with my grilling, Sarah simply explained, “Sure, you took great care of my dad, but without Aiden pulling strings to get him on the experimental treatment program, he wouldn’t have survived. “Besides, I only accepted his proposal to make my dad happy. It wasn’t real. Can’t you be a little understanding?” I was stunned. Still, I chose not to act out. After I dropped Terrence off at home, Sarah handed me a bouquet of red roses and a cake, saying they were my surprise. As I met her gaze with expectation, Sarah sent me away with an excuse. That was all the surprise she had prepared for me–just flowers and a cake. Disappointment and heartbreak washed over me. I took out the ring I was going to propose to her with and dropped it into the trash can. “Since you’ve said yes to Aiden, our engagement is over.”

After taking our graduation photo, I break up with Philip Lutz. "You're doing this just because I stood behind Mandy and not you while we were taking our graduation photos?" he asks. "Yes," I merely reply. "Sure," he says with a smile. "You'd better not come crying to me or begging for us to get back together later." Having known each other for ten years and dated for four, Philip is certain that I'll never leave him. However, he's unaware that the graduation photos are just an excuse. If I'm capable of taking my graduation photos alone, I can walk my future path alone. Once I've gone abroad, the sky's the limit for me. I no longer need him to stand behind me either.

At a party, my fiancee lost a round of Truth or Dare. Someone egged her on to list ten good things about my best friend. Olivia didn't hesitate for a second. "Outgoing, good-looking, fit, knows how to make you feel special. Always smiling, emotionally smart, capable, has great taste. And—he really knows how to brighten up a room." Next round, Dylan grinned and tossed the question back at her. "Alright, so what about Ethan? What's good about him?" Olivia turned to me, paused for a few seconds. In the end, she only came up with two words. "He's steady." Someone laughed, trying to smooth things over. "That's it? Anything else?" Olivia furrowed her brow, like she was actually giving it some real thought. But she couldn't come up with a second one. In the awkward silence, I suddenly felt exhausted. Olivia and I had been together for seven years. Our wedding was scheduled for next week. And yet, after thinking so hard, the only good thing she could find in me was that I was steady. This time, I didn't want to be the steady guy anymore.

Four years after my death, my wife—the CEO—was desperate. Her first love was dying of an incurable disease, and I was the only surgeon in the world who could save him. To force me out of hiding, she ran my mother down with her car, leaving her brain-dead with no chance of recovery. She had my father hanged from a tree beside my grave—while he was still alive. Then she went live on social media, threatening to burn my younger sister to death. She was waiting for me—the selfish man, in her eyes—to come crawling back, beg for mercy, and agree to operate on her one true love. But then her men finally looked into my records. "Boss... he's been dead for four years. "He died on the very day he gave you his heart."

At our engagement party, my fiancée said, "Even if I marry you, my heart will always belong to my first love." The room went dead silent. Everyone waited for me to snap and storm out in humiliation. Instead, I clapped first. Smiling, I said, "If marrying me makes you that miserable, I won't stop you. Just don't forget to pay back the wedding money I gave you." My fiancée panicked on the spot.

When I got into a car accident, my wife was busy taking care of her first love. As I lay dying, I begged her for help, but she just sneered coldly. "Serves you right for getting hit. You wouldn't even lend Dustin the money for his treatment." I'd explained it to her so many times. Dustin Graeme was a gambling addict—his "illness" was just an excuse to fund his habit. But she never believed me. "Cut the crap, Jim," she said. "If you don't hand over the money in three days, we're done. A selfish, heartless man like you doesn't deserve a wife." Lying in a pool of blood, I slowly curled my lips into a smile. "Fine. Let's get a divorce. I don't want a woman like you either."

After the 99th time Selina Roal stands me up for our pre-wedding photo shoot, I spot her pre-wedding photos with her blind first love, Felix Lont, on the large screen of the shopping mall. Suddenly finding it all so pointless, I agree to marry Luna Sanderson, the daughter of the wealthiest man in the city. In her joy, she buys an eight-million-dollar pinky ring from an auction and gifts it to me. Just when I think that I've finally found a good woman to spend the rest of my life with, I overhear her conversation with her best friend. "I knew that you weren't actually sincere about marrying Calvin Yangley! When do you plan to take action?" Luna answers coldly, "On the day of our wedding, I'll stage a balloon explosion to injure him. Then, I'll personally head the operation to take his eyes and transfer them to Felix. "I won't get to grow old with Felix in this life, so the least I could do is give him a wedding present and wish him a happy, healthy life." As it turns out, her love and devotion to me are all so that she can take my eyes. Even the act of marrying me is to clear the way for Felix. Immediately after that, I called the wedding studio. "Hello, I would like to cancel the wedding that will be taking place in seven days."

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife, Sienna Green, tricks our son, Noah Lewis, and me into entering a cryogenic pod. She plans to freeze us alive. As I slowly lose consciousness, I hear Sienna say to her assistant, Edwin Hoffman, "Fred's wife is dead. I've already promised him that I'll be his wife for ten years and bear him three sons. "Set up the program to ensure that Cameron and Noah only wake up after ten years. When the time comes, I'll return to them, and we can resume our life as a family." Ten years have passed. Noah is gone. When I wake up in the pod, I look at Sienna and call out to her, "Mommy."

The day I remarried Caitlyn Sullivan, the fake heir set my adoptive mother on fire and left her face burned beyond recognition. The moment I called the police, I was knocked unconscious. When I opened my eyes again, Caitlyn had personally replaced my face and made me take the blame for the fake heir. Three years later, on the day I was released from prison, Caitlyn's legal team was on standby around the clock. If there was even the slightest sign of revenge from me, they were ready to send me to a psychiatric hospital for another three years. My daughter even used money I had given her to build a 99-story safe house to hide the fake heir on the top floor. She named it Mason Tower. The fake heir was Mason Sheppard. They were terrified that I would hurt Mason in the slightest. But I disappeared from their lives as if I had never existed. The next time we met was in front of my food cart where I sold gourmet burgers. I lit the gas stove, casually wiped my oily hands on my apron, and skillfully sliced open buns. In a calm voice, I said, "A dollar for an extra egg, and two dollars for a spicy patty." Caitlyn's fingers trembled slightly. Her voice turned hoarse. "I'm allergic to eggs. Our daughter can't eat spicy food." She paused. "Did you forget?" I didn't need to remember. I only needed to remember that after selling 33 more burgers, I would have enough money to pay off the remaining balance for the grave next to my adoptive mother's.

Mom has picked two potential brides for my younger brother, Elliot Wilson, and me. One is Sarah Hawkins, a wealthy heiress whose eyes never leave Elliot. I'm left with Melissa Wright, a daughter from a family of scholars. She's blind and confined to a wheelchair. I don't look down on her. Instead, I take her to see every specialist I can find. For that, I spend all my savings and continue working hard to support her. Every doctor says there is nothing physically wrong with her legs, suggesting that it might be psychological. So, I take Melissa to the beach to feel the ocean breeze. I take her traveling, letting her experience the rivers and the warmth of spring. Then, Elliot and I get abducted. When a kidnapper is about to stab Elliot in the chest, Melissa suddenly sprints forward. She grabs me and shoves me directly in front of Elliot. I watch in horror as the knife pierces my heart. Behind her, a crowd of bodyguards calls her "Ms. Wright" respectfully. That's when I realize she isn't paralyzed, she isn't blind, and she isn't from some modest family of scholars. She just doesn't want to stand by my side or even have me in her sight. "I'm sorry. My family is the richest in town. My dad wanted me to fake it to test your character. You passed, but I just can't love you. Even if Elliot didn't choose me, I couldn't let him die. I'll make it up to you in another life." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mom is choosing our brides.