Historias cortas de Familial Bond Romance y novelas con Bias ambientadas en Awakening

On college decision night, my entire family crowded around my twin sister, Lily. My brother Ethan pulled up a map of Boston and compared the distance between her dorm and his campus. Ryan, my childhood best friend, gave up his place at McGill because Lily admitted she was scared to start college without someone familiar nearby. My parents couldn't have been happier. Now Lily would always have someone ready to take care of her. It took them most of the evening to remember that I had a decision to make too. "Nora has always been our independent one," Mom said, choosing for me without so much as looking up. "She can go to UMass Boston. It's close to Lily, so she can help out on weekends." No one asked which schools had accepted me. No one knew there was still an offer from Scotland sitting in my inbox. If they had never planned to let me have a life of my own, I no longer owed them updates about it. I turned my laptop away from them and accepted my place at the University of Edinburgh. For once, I chose the place farthest from all of them.

Marty Greene, a newly hired assistant, publicly humiliates me by calling me a worthless nobody who hangs around Audrey Melton. As my girlfriend and an award-winning actress who loves me more than life itself, Audrey promises to stand up for me. She devises a seven-day plan to build Marty up before bringing him crashing down. On the first day, she replaces me with Marty as her personal assistant, claiming she wants him to understand how hard I work. On the third day, she gives him a luxury car and a mansion, supposedly to make him lose himself in vanity. On the fifth day, she bakes him a birthday cake on a live reality show. She insists it's a crucial part of her plan and begs me to be patient. Then on the seventh day, my mother, Deborah Faulkner, suddenly falls gravely ill. As she lies dying, her final wish is to see Audrey one last time. Audrey readily agrees. But I wait at the hospital all night, and she never shows up. Instead, all I see is a post from Marty on X. "Audrey is simply too kind for her own good. She almost falls for a scam after just one phone call. Luckily, I'm smart enough to see through it and stop her from falling for it." Mom dies without ever getting to see Audrey again. It's not until the following day that Audrey finally calls. "Babe, just hang in there a little longer. I'm going to expose Marty's vanity and ruin his reputation at today's awards ceremony. Then, we'll go public with our relationship and have the wedding of the century to make Mrs. Landry happy." Audrey has no idea that Mom is already dead, and that I'm done waiting for her.

Every time Millie Johnson, my daughter, returns home from playing with my best friend's dog at his place during summer break, she brings home an expensive doll. I have no choice but to pinch pennies and save up for a gift for my best friend after seeing how much Millie loves the dolls. I return home earlier than usual one day and overhear Millie talking excitedly into her smartwatch from her hiding spot in her room. "Mission accomplished, Mommy! Daddy didn't suspect a thing!" I am momentarily stunned. I am convinced that I have misheard, but then I hear Millie ask for a reward. "You're taking your wedding anniversary photos with Papa today, right? Can I come along, too? I'm so sick of eating plain pasta with Daddy every day, Mommy!" I freeze, my breath catching as I snatch the smartwatch from her. I happen to see the photo that has just been sent over. Sophie Johnson, my wife—who is supposed to be on her janitorial duty this morning—is actually wearing a pure white wedding dress. I stare at the screen, my hands trembling uncontrollably as my heart skips a beat. Millie tosses her doll aside and hurriedly tells me off, "You can't just snoop on me, Daddy! I'll be heading out to play with the doggy later, so don't bother us!" She excitedly peers out the window and waits for her ride after saying that. I stand frozen in place, staring at the apology message Sophie sent just a minute earlier. "I'm so sorry, Steven. It's all my fault for blowing the business and making you and Millie suffer so much all these years. I swear I'll make it up to you, Steven." I feel a sharp pang in my chest, leaving me barely able to breathe. I don't want to confront Sophie yet, so I simply trail the car that has come to pick Millie up instead.

My mom's dying of cancer, and her final wish is to see me settle down and start a family. I beg my girlfriend, Yvonne Hurst, and my childhood friend, Colin Lowell, to help me put on this act for Mom. After asking them 88 times, they finally agree to play along and help me fulfill her last wish. On the day of the wedding, Mom clings to the last of her strength, waiting until the very end for the bride and best man to arrive. But they never do. Instead, Colin posts a photo online. Yvonne's in her wedding dress, and Colin is dressed as the best man. The two of them stand beside a cake, beaming at the camera. "My best friend's getting married, and the bride went all the way across town to pick up a cake with me," his caption reads. A guy couldn't ask for a better girlfriend. He's one lucky man." The location tag leads to a popular bakery known for its cakes. I call Yvonne and demand to know what is going on. "Isn't this all supposed to be about fulfilling your mom's dying wish?" she asked, sounding casual, almost dismissive. "I thought I'd spend some time with Colin and help him relax. It'll make our performance more convincing later." Colin leans over and laughs. "Yeah, Nathan. We're just messing with you. We'll be back soon," he assures me. "Tell Ms. Brooks to wait a little longer." Only then do I understand that my desperate pleas and Mom's dying wish mean nothing to them. To them, it is all just a harmless joke. I stare at the heart monitor as its beeping flattens into one long, unbroken tone, tears blurring my vision. When this absurd little act finally comes to an end, I'm the only one left to bear the consequences. From this moment on, I'm going to let them go. And finally, I'll let myself move on.

Ever since summer vacation began, my son had been getting a new toy almost every three days. Whenever I asked where they came from, he said my best friend had bought them. I was about to pick out a thank-you gift when I overheard him talking excitedly into his smartwatch from behind his bedroom door. "Reporting for duty, sir! Mission accomplished. Monster Mom believed me!" I froze, certain I'd misheard. Then he asked for his reward. "Dad, can I come to your third-anniversary celebration with Mama Viv tonight? "I'm so sick of eating canned soup and boxed mac and cheese with Mom every day. I could throw up!" My breath caught. I snatched the watch from his wrist. A photograph had just come through: my husband, who'd supposedly left for another shift at the auto repair shop that morning, was kissing another woman's forehead. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the screen. My heart nearly stopped. My son threw down his toy and, in a panic, started scolding me. "Mom! Why are you spying on my private conversations? Mama Viv is picking me up to go have fun later. Don't ruin it for us!" Then he pressed himself against the window, waiting excitedly for her. I stood there, numb, staring at the apology my husband had sent barely a minute earlier. "I'm sorry, honey. You've both had to struggle because of me for so many years. I'll take you out for a nice dinner tonight." Tears blurred the words. It felt as though something had tightened around my heart and refused to let go. But I didn't scream or demand answers. Instead, when the car came to collect my son, I climbed in after him.

The third time Queenie Stone meets Evan Sutherland's parents, she receives another message from her childhood friend, Joel Lodge. "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland. Something came up. I have to go," she says. Evan reaches out and catches her wrist, frowning. "You have to leave right now? My parents have been preparing for this all day. At least stay and finish dinner." Queenie sets her phone down in front of him. In her chat with Joel are four simple words—"The fog's rolling in". "This is my code with Joel," she explains. "He has depression. Whenever he starts spiraling, he sends me this. We agreed that no matter what I'm doing, I'll drop everything and go to him when I see those words. No exceptions." She sounds so serious, as if Joel will drop dead if she doesn't leave that very second. "Can't you wait until after dinner?" Evan asks. "At most, you'll just need to stay for two more hours." "Evan, Joel doesn't send that code lightly. If he has, it means he's at his limit. If I'm late and something happens to him, I'll never forgive myself. I'm sorry." Queenie turns to Evan's parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland, I need to head out. I'll come by another day to apologize properly." She leaves without another look back. The front door slams shut, making Evan's parents jump. "Did something happen?" his mother asks. "Queenie left in such a hurry." Evan stares at the untouched dishes on the table and forces a stiff smile. Over the last five years, Joel has sent Queenie that code over 700 times. She could be on a movie date with Evan, yet the moment Joel's message comes in, she'll walk out halfway through the film. On New Year's Eve, before the fireworks even go off, she'll ditch Evan to go to Joel. Even when Evan has a 104-degree fever and is lying in bed needing someone to care for him, she'll still rush over to Joel in the middle of the night.

On the night of the final showcase for the three-year designer development program, my parents weren't in the family seats reserved for me. They were sitting at the VIP table with Sophie, my foster sister. My boyfriend, Adrian Cole, was giving interviews in a silver-gray outfit that matched hers. A reporter smiled and asked, "You're both headed to New York, and tonight you're even dressed as a couple. Did the two of you plan that?" The people around them whooped. Adrian only smiled. "We've known each other for years. We have similar taste." No one knew that the dress Sophie was wearing was mine. I'd drafted the pattern and sewn the dress myself, and Adrian and I had planned our matching outfits around it. When I found her wearing it that morning, all my mother said was, "The gown her sponsor sent is ruined. You're the designer. Just wear something else." Adrian frowned at me, too. "There's a lot of press here today. Don't embarrass Sophie over a dress." So I threw on a black suit at the last minute and stood alone outside the interview area, watching an entire room assume the two of them were a couple. The bigger joke was that they all assumed I'd lost. Adrian had lined up an assistant position for me at a second-tier studio, and my parents thought I should stay in Boston and apply again next year. Only my mentor knew the truth: I was the sole winner of this year's Grand Fellowship. My contract already guaranteed me a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in grant money and an eighteen-month independent residency in San Francisco. After the showcase, she asked me, "You're really going to San Francisco?" I looked over at my family, still gathered around Sophie and talking about apartments in New York, and for the first time, I felt no guilt at all. "I am." I wasn't going to let anybody else decide my life again.

When Harry Carson is reborn, he finds himself back at 27 years old, married to the richest woman in the world, Laura Jensen, with a son and a daughter. Laura holds the top spot on the Global Wealth Index year after year. The Pinnacle Magazine names her the world's most desirable woman to marry, and even the royal family of Eldoria hopes to arrange a marriage between her and their prince. Everyone says Harry is the luckiest man alive, but the first thing he does is take the divorce agreement straight to Thomas Bright, the man Laura has always loved. He slides the papers across the table and says calmly, "I want a divorce. Laura's yours, and so are the kids." Thomas stares at him in disbelief. He can't believe that Harry, who has been Laura's husband for six years, is suddenly willing to step aside. Harry simply adds, "Since they all prefer you anyway, I'm giving you what you want. Just get Laura to sign the papers. Once the divorce procedures are over, I'll walk away." This time, Harry refuses to repeat the mistakes of his previous life. He's done being "Laura's husband", whom everyone treats as though he doesn't exist. Thomas unconsciously runs his fingers along the rim of his cup, his brows furrowing. "Harry, what the hell are you playing at?" Harry watches the expressions flicker across Thomas' face before calmly repeating himself, "I'm not playing games. I've just had enough." "Harry, do you have any idea how many men out there would kill to be in your position?" "I do." Harry looks him straight in the eye. "That's why I'm giving it to you."

The day my college acceptance letter arrived, Aiden Corliss said he would pick me up for dinner. "Congrats on getting into college in Kelderwick, Eloise," he said. "Once the semester starts, I'll be out there too, and it'll be just like when we were kids." I believed him. I waited from 3:00 pm until 9:00 pm. The streetlight outside my rented apartment was broken, and I sat alone on the front steps, hugging the acceptance letter. He never showed up. When I opened social media, I found a video my sister, Clarissa Mallory, had posted. Aiden had gone with her to try on her new clothes, and at one point he crouched down to tie her shoelaces. Her caption read: [Good thing someone's always had a soft spot for me.] Underneath, our brother had commented: [Aiden's got me beat as a big brother.] Our mom had written: [As long as Clarissa's smiling, we can rest easy.] I suddenly remembered a year earlier, when Aiden had been the one convincing me to step aside. "Eloise, your grades are great and you can handle anything. Just let Clarissa have this one. Moving out is only temporary. Once she's better, everyone will bring you back home." All that waiting got me nowhere. Nobody replied when my exam scores came out. I ate takeout alone after my summer job, and when my suitcase broke at the start of the school year, no one cared. At 10:00 pm, Aiden finally texted me: [Crazy busy today. I'll make it up to you another time.] I replied: [Don't bother.] Then, I unpinned his chat. When someone was that late, there was no point in them coming at all.

After my family went bankrupt, my wife, Claire Finley, was drowned in the river by debt collectors. To pay off our debts, I took on a job at an underground casino as a human punching bag. Every punch I took earned me 50 bucks. Then, one day, I'm about to deliver drinks to a private room. Through the crack in the door, I see Claire—supposedly dead—sitting in the seat of honor, leisurely sipping a glass of fine red wine. "It's been over three years since I last saw Nathan. I wonder how he's doing." Dad, dressed in a sharp suit despite our family's so-called bankruptcy, sighs. "He's probably been hiding away, grieving for a few years. Once he gets over it, he can always find someone else. Whatever happens, you and Victor will get to live in peace, so long as he believes you're dead." Victor Gray is Dad's son with his first love. A glance around the private room reveals nothing but familiar faces. My once-close friends are all there, along with the very people who have supposedly killed Claire. So, everything has been a setup from the start. The only thing that has been real is the hell I've endured over the past three years. Balancing 20 bottles of beer in my arms, I smile and shake my head. Once I save up 80 dollars for an urn, they can finally be free of me.

After the family exchange program ended, the poor girl I swapped lives with became my parents' adopted daughter. Sophie Miller was everything I wasn't—soft-spoken, obedient, and endlessly grateful. She knew how to smile, say the right things, and make my parents feel needed. So, little by little, they began favoring her. My parents criticized me for being too cold, too stubborn, too independent. They gave Sophie the love, patience, and affection I had spent seventeen years believing were mine. Even my boyfriend, Ethan, took her side. He pitied her humble background and constantly overlooked me to make her feel better. I fought for years. I believed seventeen years of shared history meant they would not erase me so easily. Then I saw my parents' revised will. Sophie would inherit everything, the entire estate and controlling interest in Harrington Group. They were planning a wedding for Sophie and Ethan and wanted me to attend as the sister. After the fight, I drove away alone. Rain blinded me, and I died in a pileup near the Brooklyn Bridge. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day the exchange program ended. My parents sat across from me, telling me they planned to become Sophie's guardians. In my first life, I fought to keep her out. This time, I said nothing against it.

Melissa Mills, my wife, had allowed her lover to stay in our home for an entire week. Normally, I would've asked her to pay me for putting up with it. This time, I didn't. She must've thought I was finally learning how to be a good husband because she tossed me a check without me requesting one for the first time since… well, ever. "Nathan's moving out later. Pack his things for him. Do it, and the check is yours." That was how things had always worked between us. Every dollar Melissa gave me came at a cost. I would receive 50,000 when she wanted to parade me around as "Melissa Mills' husband." I'd be paid 100,000 to stand by and watch her flirt with Nathan Reid right in front of me. Finally, I was given 300,000 when she wanted the master bedroom for some alone time with Nathan. I'd swallowed my pride and put up with all of it because I needed her money for my mother's medical bills. However, that changed a week ago. My mother couldn't bear watching me humiliate myself for her, so she took her own life. Now, all I had left of her was nearly three pounds of ashes in an urn. There were no medical bills left to pay. So, I no longer had a reason to keep selling what remained of my dignity. Melissa knew none of this. Therefore, I wasn't really listening when she went on about Nathan moving out and told me to pack his things. Instead, I was sitting at a poker table with a few trust-fund guys, tossing another chip into the pot without even looking up. "I'm busy. If you need something, ask Nathan."

On the third meeting with his girlfriend’s parents, Sebastian Haynes, received another text from his childhood friend, Kylie Miller. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker. Something came up. I gotta leave now.” Melanie Tucker reached out and grabbed his arm, whispering, “Do you really have to leave right now? My parents spent so much time on dinner. At least eat something before you go.” He placed his phone in front of her. Kylie’s message was a short “It’s getting foggy.” “This is our code,” he said, his tone dead serious, as if Kylie would die if he didn’t show up at once. “Kylie struggles with severe depression. Whenever she’s on the edge, she sends this to me. I promised her that once she sends this line, no matter what I’m doing, I’ll drop everything and go to her. No exceptions.” “Can’t you go after dinner?” Melanie pleaded. “It’ll take two hours at most.” “Melanie, Kylie doesn’t send the code out of whim. It means she’s at her breaking point. I won’t be able to live with the regret if anything happens. I’m sorry.” He looked toward her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I’ll make it up to you another day.” He walked out without looking back even once. The front door slammed shut with a heavy bang, startling her parents. “Did something happen? Sebastian left in such a rush.” Melanie forced a faint smile as she stared at the untouched roast beef and dinner spread on the table. Over five years, Kylie had sent Sebastian that same “It’s getting foggy” message hundreds of times. Whenever they were out on movie dates and he got her text, he would leave halfway through. On New Year’s Eve, just as they were waiting for the firework show, he had abandoned her for Kylie’s sake. One time when Melanie was burning with a 104-degree fever, he had left her lying limply in bed and bolted into the night to find Kylie.