Tragic Love Regret の短編小説 & 小説

As the daughter of the Shadow Pack’s Beta, I was born with power, grace, and devotion. Justin, the future Alpha of the pack, was hailed as my fated mate from the moment our paths crossed. I once believed that we were meant to be. With the Moon Goddess bringing us together through a mate bond, even death could not tear us apart. Yet, the illusion was shattered three years ago. Justin pushed me away time and again in the name of repaying an obligation to Marissa, a rogue, for saving his life. Everything that should have been ours, he gave to her, be it our home, title, and our life plans together—all because she said she wasn’t happy. By the ninety-ninth time, the debt of gratitude was finally repaid. I stood at the mating ceremony venue in my gown, filled with anticipation that he would mark me. Alas, all my waiting ended with the news that he had given Marissa a top-tier moonstone, symbolizing eternal love. In that moment, all the pain I had held back came crashing down. My wolf howled in my mind with a voice so primal and sad. For once, I didn’t silence her. I believed it was time to make room for Justin and his lifesaver.

My husband was an elite mercenary. Three years ago, shortly after we got engaged, he accepted an S-Rank emergency mission. Before he left, he held me close and said, "This is my last mission. After this, I'm done being a mercenary. When I come back, we'll get married." I believed him. And I waited for more than a thousand days and nights. Three months ago, he finally came home. I thought my three years of waiting had finally come to an end. But just moments ago, I was on my way to tell him that I was pregnant with his child when I overheard his conversation with his lieutenant outside the study. "What about Vivian and Ethan? Ethan is already over two years old. He's your biological son. You can't hide this forever. If Miss Moretti ever finds out..." My husband shot his lieutenant a cold glare. "She'll never find out. The only child I'll ever acknowledge publicly is the one Isabella gives birth to. Tell Vivian to keep both herself and Ethan quiet." His lieutenant hesitated. "Aren't you afraid she'll leave you if she ever finds out the truth?" Adrian looked confident. "Isabella loves me too much. She won't leave." Ethan? His biological son? So while I had been waiting all those years for him to come back and marry me, he had already built another family. He even had a two-year-old son with another woman. I stumbled back to my bedroom and called my father. "Dad, I want to come back to the family."

When it's time for us to say our vows during the wedding ceremony, Jessica Fletcher, my wife, leaves the stage just so she can confess her love to her first love, Benedict Olson. "Once upon a time, we had vowed to stay together for the rest of our lives, Benedict. It's unfortunate that we've missed out on the chance to do so in this lifetime. Would you be willing to stay with me in our next life, then?" Touched, Benedict pulls Jessica into his arms. Then, he turns to tell me, "Oliver, I've already given Jess to you in this lifetime, so you must take good care of her for me." Everyone gasps in shock, thinking that they'll soon witness two men fighting over the same woman. But I merely smile at the sight of Benedict and Jessica embracing each other tightly. Then, I take off my ring before passing it to Benedict. "Why wait till your next life to be together? Since you've already made a vow to stay together for eternity, I might as well grant your wish."

My husband, Damien Falcone, had 99 lovers. And I was the mafia princess men lined up to die for. The day we got together, everyone in our world took bets. They said we wouldn't last three months. But then , everything changed. For me, he wiped his phone clean, built a rose manor, and got down on one knee. Then, on our wedding night, he told me he wanted an open marriage. "Our bodies can play," he said. "But our loyalty? That's just for us." I agreed. Then came his 100th lover, Sophia Ricci. She betrayed our family in an arms deal. Almost got my father killed. But Damien protected her. He even moved her into our home. So, I did what any heartbroken mafia princess would do. I got drunk and woke up in another man's bed. I just didn't know that man was Damien's uncle.

My girlfriend, Giselle Harris, has very firm boundaries. She dislikes holding hands when we're walking together. Even though we're a couple, we can't live together. We've been together for 1,500 days, and we've done everything couples normally do together. But I still don't have the key to her apartment. So after our dates, the only place we can go is the hotel. Giselle explains that her home is her personal space. She doesn't want anyone trespassing in it. One day, Giselle hosts a get-together with our friends. I stand outside her door, waiting for her to finish work when her best friend, Harry Larson, shows up with her key in his hand. With everyone watching, he unlocks the door. "Don't blame me because Giselle doesn't want to give you a key, Cole. She doesn't like outsiders entering her place," he says with a lopsided smile, showing no hint of malice. "Why do you have her key then?" I ask. Harry puffs his chest out and answers, "I'm different. In fact, the wedding portrait that we took together is hanging on her wall." Giselle's childhood friends pretend to cough behind us. Harry helplessly rolls his eyes and asks, "Honestly, isn't it funny that Cole's still acting like Giselle's boyfriend when she refuses to give him a key, won't let him enter her apartment, and won't let him hang their photos in her place?" I stare at the wedding portrait hanging on the wall across from me. I then look down and delete the message I'm just about to send to Giselle, asking if I can have the key to her apartment. Indeed, it's not my place to interfere when someone else is already living with her.

Today is Morgan Franklin's 30th birthday. It also marks the day he brings up divorce in front of me for the 99th time. He doesn't sound guilty and tentative anymore, unlike his demeanor when he mentioned divorce for the first time. Instead, he has a cigarette dangling between his lips while looking at me mockingly. "I've already called the ambulance for you, Milana. Have you thought about how you're going to commit suicide this time? Are you slitting your wrist or overdosing on pills?" Everyone in the private room bursts out laughing. "I bet she's going down the sleeping pill route! She did that the last time, and she had to get her stomach pumped for three hours!" "Hell no! She's definitely jumping off a building this time! But she'll just wait for the firemen to lay out the safety mat before pretending to jump! She's not going to die at all!" "Nah… Ms. Brook is very creative when it comes to suicide. Every time she commits suicide, she always uses a different method!" Everyone is curious as to which suicide method I will use in order to get Morgan to stay this time. But when I notice the smiles on everyone's faces, I suddenly feel exhaustion weighing down on my soul. The anger that has been sustaining me for so long finally dissipates. I lower my gaze before stating calmly, "I'm not doing any of that. This time, I shall grant you your freedom."

At our son's piano competition, my husband, Richard Hayes, received yet another call from Vivian Morgan. I'd lost count of how many times he'd said the same thing to me. "Elena, Vivian says Mia keeps crying for her daddy and won't go to sleep. She wants me to come over and help. I need to go..." I cut him off before he could finish. "But you promised Leo you'd be onstage with him when he received his award." "I'm sorry. I promised Jay I'd look after Vivian and Mia. I can't break my word." He paused. "Leo has you. I'm sure he'll understand." Before I could say anything to stop him, Richard turned and disappeared into the crowd. I watched him go and smiled bitterly. Jay Morgan had been his closest partner on the job. Jay had died on a mission, saving Richard's life. And Vivian was Jay's wife. Ever since Jay died, Richard had been taking care of her and her daughter. Short on money? She called him. Daughter sick? She called him. Daughter crying for a daddy? She called him again. Richard took care of everything for them. And our home? It was just Leo and me. When the competition ended, Leo took first place. He scanned the audience, his eyes bright with anticipation. The moment he saw me walk onto the stage alone, the light in his eyes slowly faded. He gave me a sad, knowing smile no child his age should have to wear. "Mom, Dad left us again, didn't he?" I opened my mouth to comfort him. But he suddenly grabbed my hand and looked up at me. "Mom, you said we'd move somewhere Dad wouldn't be. Did you really mean it?"

"You've undergone IVF six times to conceive this child, Ms. Caldwell. Are you sure you want to give up? Is Mr. Spencer okay with this?" "I'm sure he'll agree." Callista Caldwell's voice is hoarse after a sleepless night. She's never felt more awake, though. "I'll schedule the surgery for a week from now, then." It's Callista and Luther Spencer's wedding anniversary in a week. This is good—she can end things where they started. After booking her flight out of the country, she places her hand on her abdomen. There's a blossoming life in there. She's looked forward to this for the past five years. She never would've expected to give up on it before it could happen.

In the hunting ground, my mate, Liam Graham, abandons me while I am pregnant and severely injured from a beast attack. He rushes off carrying Beta Eva Monroe, who only has a scratch on her palm. I cry out for him to stay, but he says Eva needs medical attention more than I do. As blood pours between my legs, I anxiously swallow the prenatal pills Liam gave me. But in the next second, my child is gone forever. It turns out the pills are not meant to protect my baby but a slow-acting poison that kills it. At that moment, Eva proudly sends me a message. "Being his Beta means I get the Alpha's care anytime I want." Feeling my body grow weaker from the miscarriage, I glance one last time at the baby, who has become a pool of blood. At that moment, I want nothing more. At night, I reach out to my father through a mind link. "Dad, I agree to become the heir of the Howl of the Moon Pack."

The Blood Moon Feast was over. I was delivering the synthetic blood supplement I'd developed for the vampire lord, Evander, when he suddenly threw me to the ground. "Give it to me... I want you..." His crimson eyes burned with desperate hunger. My face flushed. I thought he finally understood the love I held for him. So I let him sink his fangs into my neck. I let him form a blood bond with me—a human. I wanted eternity with him. But when I woke up, Evander's eyes were filled with shock and regret. It wasn't love. Just an uncontrollable frenzy from his once-a-century bloodlust curse. And now it was too late. A human bonded to an ancient vampire suffers excruciating, soul-tearing pain. To forcibly break the bond? A death sentence. Evander chose to honor it. He owed me—I'd saved his life once in the human world. But everything changed when Odette died. His true love, waiting centuries to bond with him. When she learned of our union, she shattered—left the City of Eternal Night alone and walked into an ambush by rogue hunters. They burned her to ash. When his family brought back the only thing left—a moonstone pendant—Evander's hands closed around my throat. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? You trapped me in this bond. Then you conspired with hunters to kill Odette. Go to hell and apologize to her yourself!" He ripped the bond from me, tearing away the very blood that kept me alive. A day and a night of agony as my organs ruptured. Then I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night his curse erupted.

My husband took our six-year-old daughter on a fishing trip, but when his first love called, he left her alone to answer his phone. With no one watching her, our daughter fell into the sea, and we never recovered her body. Heartbroken, I called him and begged him to return, but his voice was cold as he said, “Cheyenne, today’s Queenie's birthday. Can you stop being such a buzzkill?” When I stumbled back home in despair, I found his first love clinging provocatively to him, a smug smile on her face. “What’s got you so upset, sis-in-law?” she sneered. I let out a cold laugh and flipped the dining table over. “As long as you’re alive, I’ll never be happy.”

My CEO boyfriend promises that he'll only complete 99 wishes with his first love—she's lost her memory after being injured. However, I see them curling up in each other's arms when the wishes are completed. Later, I stop pestering him about him caring for his first love. All I ask from him is an anklet for a baby—I want it as a remembrance of our child's birth, which is happening soon. His gaze softens at the mention of the child. "Once I'm done with this, I'll accompany you shopping so we can pick out things for the baby." I nod compliantly. I don't tell him it's already been a week since I asked a lawyer to draft a breakup agreement. In fact, we're already broken up.

Elijah Morris has been fooling around for four out of the five years we've been married. And from the very first month, he openly betrays me. Meanwhile, I spend my time warding people off with expensive contracts, one after another. Eventually, all that's left between us is constant fighting. One day, his younger stepsister, Abigail Wright, returns. And just like that, he finally settles down. That's when the system tells me that I can finally go home. For the next five days, I no longer ask about his schedule. I don't care if he is with Abigail, nor do I care if she is pregnant with his child. I even move out of the master bedroom myself, listening to them going at it all night. The fifth day after Abigail's return is our wedding anniversary. Elijah bursts into the room, tears up our marriage certificate in front of me, and smashes my most treasured vase into pieces. He grips my throat tightly and growls, "Why did you put mango in Abby's cake? She's allergic, and she almost died! How could you be so cruel?" For the first time, I don't argue with him. Instead, I go along with his accusations. "So what?" I then pick up a shard from the broken vase on the floor under his disbelieving gaze. Then, I draw it across my artery. Just like that, I end my life in this world.

After I, Rosalie Ricci, was stood up 17 times, the mafia don, Daniel Marino, finally holds the perfect engagement banquet for me. In our second year together, we are ready to get married. But every single time, he has an excuse to hold our engagement off. He says he's busy with work, the timing isn't right yet, or that he isn't quite ready. I never blame him because I love him. I have loved him since our school days. In fact, I have loved him for seven whole years. This is the 18th time. I stand in the banquet hall wearing the gown he personally chose for me and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He kisses me with a passionate intensity he has never shown me before. At that moment, I believe that I have finally secured my perfect happiness after waiting seven long years. My happiness only lasts until the guests leave. As I step into the back garden, I see Daniel holding my twin sister, Leah Ricci, in his arms. He says in a hushed voice, "I announced my engagement to Rosalie 18 times. This time, you're finally back." That's when I realize that the engagement banquet that I have longed for is nothing more than a ploy by Daniel to draw Leah back to him. But when I decided to let them be together, Daniel panics.

When I found the hotel booking receipts on my husband's phone, I asked for a divorce. I didn't yell. I didn't cry. My husband, Mark Sterling, thought I was just throwing another childish tantrum. He tossed a black credit card onto the counter. "The PIN is your birthday. Go buy yourself something nice and stop being so paranoid." When I didn't touch it, he sighed and pulled a limited-edition action figure from behind his back. "Look, I even got a gift for Leo. I'll pick him up from preschool tonight. Happy now?" My hands shook as I stared at the toy. Our son died in a car crash two months ago, on the day Mark skipped his parent-teacher conference. He didn't even know that our boy was dead.

Toby’s childhood friend got pregnant before forming a mate bond. To keep her from being ridiculed by the pack, Toby decided to bond with her. I could not accept it. I cried as I asked him, “What about me? What about the pup I am carrying?” However, Toby remained calm as he replied, “Stacy, Tammy is different from you. I am all she has. If the other wolves find out she got pregnant without a mate bond, the rumors and judgment would destroy her.” Still, Toby forgot that I had no one else either. I also got pregnant without a mate bond, and it was his pup. Soon, the entire pack was mocking me, calling me promiscuous, claiming that I was carrying some illegitimate child whose father was a mystery. Toby just stood there, supporting his pregnant childhood friend, watching with everyone else. That was when I realized love came with priorities. As the one Toby placed at the bottom, I made the heartbreaking choice to end the pregnancy, so he and Tammy could have the love he chose to protect first.

I stay behind to save a heart attack patient. So, I am unable to go and rescue Lucian Linton's dog. The very next second, I receive a message from my fiancee, Christine Stafford. It reads, "Because you stood by and did nothing, Lucian's dog ended up in the hospital! Let's postpone our wedding. Consider it your punishment." This is the ninth time Christine postpones our wedding because of Lucian's unreasonable behavior. This time, I don't want to play along with them anymore. Just then, floating comments appear before my eyes. "Hurry to the rooftop! Christine loves you. She saw through Lucian's tricks a long time ago." "She's postponing the wedding to surprise you. She's secretly planning the wedding of the century for you." I felt a pang in my heart. Filled with guilt, I rush to the rooftop to find her. But the moment I reach the door, I hear Lucian chuckle. "Do you think Maxwell will come beg for your forgiveness after seeing those messages?" Christine replies with a teasing smile, "Of course. That's our company's newest AR technology. Besides, he loves me so much that he won't question it, even if it's fake. This is his fault in the first place. He deserves to be taught a lesson." I freeze. So even those so-called comments claiming she loves me are merely a trick she has pulled on me just to humiliate me. Swallowing the bitterness that wells up inside of me, I turn and walk away. What Christine doesn't know is that after her fake comments disappear, the real comments finally appear before my eyes.

On our eighth bonding ceremony, my mate left me at the altar—again—for his so-called Omega sister. Slap. Felix Ortiz yanked the Moonstone token back without a second glance. "Willow's hurt. We'll push it a week." Then he strode off, leaving the entire crowd staring after him. The first time, she'd misplaced the ceremony's Moonstone. The second, she had a fever and needed him by her side. Third, fourth, eighth—every time there was a "legitimate" reason. Every time, I was the one who caved. I fought. I screamed. Felix always said the same thing: "You're overthinking it. She's just my sister. My future is with you." But this time, I decided I wanted no part in his future. So I went back to my own territory. Picked my career back up. And he—he lost his damn mind.

On Valentine's night, my father-in-law, Robert Stone, was deliberately run over again and again until he died. My wife, Vivian Stone, one of the city's top internists, was using every connection she had to produce a psychiatric evaluation for the killer. When I took the killer to court, she finally answered my call. "Julian's brother didn't mean to hit and run. He's young. Of course he panicked when something happened." "Julian and I will take him to Dad's grave to apologize. Tell your father to transfer hospitals quickly. Don't let him die in my hospital and bring bad luck here." I looked at Robert lying lifeless on the hospital bed and suddenly laughed. No wonder she had refused to come to the hospital for surgery. She thought the man in the accident was my father.

Joe Kane played five years in the NFL as a team captain. And for five years, I waited for him in our home in Kansas City. He said the season was too busy, the away games too brutal—no place for family to tag along. So I stayed quiet. I kept the house running, waiting for him to come back after every road trip. Until the day I was cleaning and found a box buried at the very bottom of his nightstand drawer. The moment I opened it, photos spilled everywhere. On top was a family travel application. Applicant: Natalie Reed. In the photo, Natalie stood beside him, wearing his jersey number, with red fireworks over Arrowhead Stadium behind her—grinning more boldly than she had on championship night. On the back, in Joe's handwriting: You're my lucky four-leaf clover through the long season. I laughed. I looked around our empty house—and couldn't find a single photo of us together. His social media was all games, training, teammates. No me. Not one. That night, I sat in the living room, listening to the second hand tick, and opened the notes app on my phone. Created a countdown. 30 days. Starting today, I wouldn't pick him up from the airport anymore. No more messages that vanished into silence. No more breakfasts no one ate. I quietly packed everything, ready to leave him.