เรื่องสั้นแนว Feel-Good Story Rebirth และนิยาย Bias ในฉาก Cheating

My daughter-in-law cheated on my son behind his back, and I caught her. When I confronted her, she turned the tables on me, accusing me instead. I told my son everything exactly as it happened, but she broke down crying and accused me of bullying her. "Ever since I married into the Simmons family, you've never been happy with me," she sobbed. "If I’d known you’d slander me like this, I would’ve been better off dead!" She attempted to hurt herself to prove her innocence, but my son stopped her. "Mom, how could you accuse my wife like that? You're my own mother, but this is too much!" he shouted. Furious, he moved out with her. Later, I fell gravely ill and begged my son to come see me one last time. When he finally arrived, he brought her with him. To my horror, they removed my oxygen tube. As I struggled to breathe, I heard her smug voice whisper in my ear: "Old hag, if it weren't for you accusing me of cheating, Herman and I wouldn’t have gotten your inheritance so quickly!" She laughed coldly. "Oh, and next time you accuse someone, make sure you have evidence. Did you really think your word alone could ruin me?" I died choking on my final breath. Afterward, they lived happily, spending my money without a care in the world. But then, I woke up. It was the day I caught her cheating again. This time, I went straight to work. I replaced the lubricant at home with industrial-strength glue. She wanted proof? Fine. I’d give her proof.

The day my family and the Fido family decided I should marry Callum Fido, I shocked everyone by rejecting the arrangement. Without hesitation, I instead chose Jaxon Fido, Callum’s uncle. Everyone was stunned. After all, everyone in Central City knew I, Moon Sawyer, had loved Callum more than I loved myself. When I was young and naive, I had declared I would marry no one but him. I followed him for ten years and lost who I was in the process. If he told me to go left, I would never dare turn right. If he told me to jump into the ocean, I would have done it without thinking. In my past life, I got to marry Callum, just like I always wanted. But on our wedding day, he shut the door in my face. He pressed the knife he had personally sharpened against my chest and said, “The one I love and want to marry has always been Ruby. The only way you’ll enter this house is as a dead body.” Ruby Sawyer was my sister. The Fido family had called him ungrateful and forced him to go through with the marriage. But after the wedding, he kept looking for women who looked like Ruby and flaunted his affection for them in front of everyone. He let every one of his mistresses insult me, belittle me, and walk all over me. When I was pregnant, I was pushed down the stairs, and both my baby and I died. With a second chance at life, I chose to stay away from him and let him be with Ruby. But I never expected that the day the Fido family agreed to my new engagement, Callum would completely lose his mind.

When the flood hit, my husband, Patrick Holmes, who was part of the rescue team, stood between me and his first love, Victoria Clarke, torn with hesitation written all over his face. Without thinking twice, I shoved the only lifebuoy into Victoria's arms. In my previous life, Patrick had handed the lifebuoy to me instead and stayed behind with Victoria, choosing to die alongside her. Just before they both drowned, rescuers arrived in the nick of time and pulled him out, but Victoria didn't make it—she drowned that day. After that, he devoted himself completely to me, taking care of me in every moment of our daily lives. I had thought that the disaster made him cherish me more, but I was wrong—so terribly wrong. While I was hospitalized, Patrick unplugged my oxygen tank himself. He hissed, "If you hadn't insisted on going home to rest that day, I wouldn't have been torn on who to save, and she wouldn't have died. Now, you'll atone to her in the afterlife." I struggled helplessly as my vision blurred and death crept in. Then, everything went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the flood began.

When I turn 20, my grandfather's old friend—now the richest man in the country—lays out photos of his grandsons in front of me. He says, "Pick one to be your husband." Without hesitation, I choose Nathaniel Chapman. Everyone in the room is stunned. After all, it's no secret I've always been hopelessly in love with George Chapman. I used to swear I'd marry no one but him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married George. And because of that marriage, he inherited the lion's share of his grandfather's wealth. But after the wedding, he started an affair with my sister. My parents were furious and sent her abroad to study. George thought I was the one who exposed them. From then on, he hated me to my very core. Women came and went at his side, each one resembling my sister more than the last. The betrayal crushed me. I fell into deep depression. Later, he secretly replaced my medication with slow-acting poison. I died with a child in my womb—alone, bitter, and betrayed. Now, I've been reborn. This time, I choose to let them have each other. But what I don't expect is that George has been reborn too.

My husband constantly ignored my pleas in my previous life, giving his salary to his first love despite my objections. After giving birth, I couldn't produce any milk due to prolonged starvation. My son cried desperately from hunger. When I finally managed to buy formula and brought it home, my husband snatched it away to give to his first love. "Vicky's milk supply is low too, and she's a widow. Let's give it to her child first," he insisted. I fought to take it back, but my husband knocked me unconscious. I staggered to look for him when I regained consciousness, only to discover my husband at Victoria Langford's house, putting on diapers for someone else's child. My son had already starved to death then, and out of despair, I followed him in death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the moment I first learned of my pregnancy. This time, I chose to terminate the pregnancy and file for divorce.

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.

In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat. I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own. But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor." In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in. But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor. That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story. Our daughter passed away that night. Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."

After my husband's brother died, he took Miranda, his widowed sister-in-law in. He claimed that he would give me his love—but gave all his money to her. He said that since she had no official status, being with him would make her the subject of gossip, so he took her with him and left me behind in the countryside. Every month, he wrote me three love letters, yet sent all his allowance to her. During the famine, she and her two children sat in a warm little house eating well, while my two children died before I could return from selling my blood. One froze to death, the other starved to death. Later, my husband finally came back, but he didn’t shed a single tear for the children. Instead, he told me he wanted a divorce. "Nathalie, to apply for housing, we need a marriage certificate. It hasn’t been easy for Miranda all these years. I want to give her a home. Don’t worry, even if I marry her, I’ll still divorce her afterward—because you’re the only one I love." In the end, I was devastated and threw myself into the icy river. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my children were about to die. This time, I shook them awake, ready to go reclaim everything that was rightfully mine.

Claire Shaw, my wife of 27 years and I had already fallen out of love with each other. Having picked up on that fact, our children, Jason and Monica Bennett, started giving me advice. "Dad, you and Mom are still relatively young. You two deserve to continue pursuing the lives you want." "That's right, Dad. You can't just force a marriage to go on. We support you in getting a divorce." With Jason and Monica's support, Claire and I soon got divorced. Monica took it upon herself to introduce another woman to me. Soon, I began a new relationship. But when I was about to get married, Claire took me to court and accused me of cheating on her while we were still married. Jason and Monica showed up at the court trial as witnesses as well. They proved that I had indeed cheated on Claire in our marriage. I couldn't defend myself at all. In the end, I was forced to give up everything I owned. My new girlfriend, Linda Calcraft, and I were heavily targeted by the entire Internet. "Hey, old geezer! Just how shameless are you to look for a mistress when you're already dying?" "You're already old enough to become a grandfather, and yet you're still filing for a divorce? You and that mistress are better off together!" Some extremists strapped me and Linda to the bed. They dumped gasoline all over us before setting us on fire, leading to our deaths. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Jason and Monica try to convince me to get a divorce.

When Ingrid Stewart, the prettiest woman in the factory, got dragged into an abandoned warehouse by a hooligan named Edmund Holloway, I didn't rush after them with a brick in my hand, unlike my past self in the previous life. Instead, I went to the nearest police station right away. In my previous life, I sustained heavy injuries in order to save Ingrid from Edmund. The Stewarts decided to marry her to me so that they could repay my life debt. After our marriage, I treated Ingrid with utmost sincerity, but all I received in return was her resentment. On the night the rundown apartment we lived in was on fire, I rushed into the inferno to push Ingrid and our son out of danger. In return, a beam crashed down on me. When I raised my head, I saw Ingrid dragging our son toward Edmund. Then, she said to me icily, "This is all your fault, you stupid coward! You're the reason why Edmund and I weren't able to get together for so many years!" Edmund guffawed loudly as well. "Right, I forgot to tell you that your son, whom you've loved for 18 years, is actually my child!" In the end, I kept coughing up blood because I inhaled too much smoke. Just like that, I died a gruesome death in the fire. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ingrid gets harassed by Edmund. In this life, I choose to grant Ingrid and Edmund's wish of staying together.

When my husband’s family was caught in a massive pileup on the highway, he was at the beach with his first love. I didn’t call and demand that he come back. I simply dialed 911. Because in my previous life, I’d stopped him from going to the beach with her. Instead, he came with me to rush his family to the hospital. While he was gone, his first love was swept out to sea and drowned. When I found out, I was overwhelmed with guilt. But my husband told me it wasn’t my fault. I thought he’d forgiven me. Then, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the beach. Right in front of me, he killed our daughter and threw her into the ocean for the sharks to devour. Then he held me underwater and waited for them to tear me apart. “This is all your fault! She’d still be alive if it weren’t for you! “You can die with her!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.