Historias cortas de Bias Romance y novelas ambientadas en Awakening

While strolling around the mall, I bend down to tie my shoelaces. When I lift my head again, my boyfriend, Lucas Carter, and my best friend, Kimberly Wendell, are already over 30 feet away. Just as I am about to catch up with them, I notice that the spot that should've been mine is slowly vanishing as the two walk closer and closer. Eventually, they are shoulder to shoulder as they talk about topics that I can't join in on. It's as though a third person was never there. During our university years, Lucas and Kimberly were known as the the school’s most promising “twin stars”. This continued even after we graduated, with them becoming the youngest chief physicians at the hospital. Meanwhile, no matter how hard I work, I can only trail behind them as an ordinary nurse. Lucas is always patting my head, saying, "You're cute, even when you're a little slow sometimes." Then he turns around and works seamlessly with Kimberly to perform one complex surgery after another. As I stare at their backs, I suddenly feel utterly exhausted. I no longer want to continue down this road, forever chasing after Lucas.

"Forget it, I'll marry him!" The moment Margot Johanson said those words, she suddenly felt a sense of relief. She could hear her parents' voices full of smiles in her ears. "Gigi, we’re glad you’ve made up your mind. Your fiancé may be in a coma, but he’s quite handsome.  “Although he’s been out for years, what if he wakes up? After all, he’s the one set to inherit the family business..." Her parents, trying to persuade their own daughter to marry a comatose man, actually thought she was getting the better deal.  They seemed convinced that no one else in the world would be foolish enough to take on such a situation.  Margot smiled bitterly. "Don’t worry. Since I’ve made up my mind to marry, I won’t back out. I won’t let your precious Maisie take my place."

After I announced that my boyfriend, James Lane, and I were getting married, his childhood sweetheart came after me again. She dumped an entire bucket of chicken blood over my head, turning my pristine white wedding dress a hideous dark red. Lily Zane stood there watching me without the slightest hint of fear. She knew she could get away with it. Instead of backing down, I looked at James, who had been silent the entire time. "Are you calling the police, or am I?" This was already the ninth time this year. She'd rammed my car, slapped me, and harassed me online. Any time I dared post anything about James, there was always some new form of torment waiting for me. James had begged me to let it go, so I'd swallowed it again and again. Not this time. I dialed 911 without hesitation. James, who hadn't lifted a finger until then, suddenly snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it against the floor. Pieces went flying, and his face was dark with anger. "Are you seriously making this a big deal? It's just a bucket of chicken blood!" Calmly, I wiped the blood from my face and nodded. "Yes, I am, James. And the wedding's off."

I ignored my friends and family’s objections and insisted on pursuing my now-girlfriend, who was disfigured in a car crash when she tried to save her first love. Some laughed at me for being a back-up plan, but I didn’t care. I worked day and night, earning money for her plastic surgery, and stayed by her side as she walked out of depression. But on the eve of our wedding day, as I was doing her laundry, a marriage certificate dropped out of her pants pocket. The groom was her first love. I was about to make things clear with her when I overheard her conversation with her best friend. “I know Steve saved me, but if Yves doesn’t marry me, he’ll be forced into a marriage alliance. I don’t want to see him lose his freedom. “As for Steve, I’ll find someone to forge a certificate for me. Don’t blurt this out, okay…” I felt my blood then grow cold as I quietly changed the groom of our wedding three days later to her first love. By the time she found out about the surprise, I would have left for abroad, never to return.

At my engagement party, my fiancee's male best friend pulled my pants down in front of over 500 guests. I desperately grabbed my belt and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing. He thought I was making a fuss over nothing. "I just wanted to see what color underwear you're wearing." As he spoke, he held up the Besties Chat Group, which included my fiancee, Justine Severin. A poll was underway. "What color underwear will Henry Banks be wearing today?" There were eight people in the group, and seven had voted. Justine only replied, "Cut it out." I froze, then turned in disbelief toward my impeccably dressed fiancee standing behind me. Justine frowned. "Everyone was just messing around to liven things up. Don't take it seriously." She turned back and continued chatting and laughing with the other guests as if nothing had happened. At that moment, I suddenly realized just how rotten the woman standing before me was. I took off my engagement ring and dropped it into a champagne glass. "Let's call off the engagement."

Nathan Caldwell has a rule: anything he lends out has to be returned personally. So every item his ex-girlfriend left behind when she moved out, he returned himself. An old umbrella meant a three-hour drive. A book meant taking half a day off work. An earring meant a flight out of state. It's been five years. She still hasn't finished collecting what she left at my house. Then my mother is hospitalized after an asthma attack. I'm stuck working late, so I ask Nathan to stay with her overnight and keep an eye on her oxygen monitor. He says yes. At two in the morning, he takes a phone call and leaves. He doesn't come back until the next day. "Camille said she forgot a pair of glasses at our place," he tells me. "I dropped them off." I look at the alarm button on the oxygen monitor that nobody ever pressed. In his rules, whatever someone else leaves behind always comes first. My mother's life doesn't even rate as a stop on the way. Fine. If he can't let her go, I'll let him go back to her.

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.

It was common knowledge that the Marsh family was the family with the strictest household rules in upper-class society. They adhered to the rules unyieldingly, and there were so many of them that the rulebook was thicker than ten legal codices. One of the rules was: If any woman wanted a divorce, she had to roll on a bed of nails for half an hour before she was allowed to leave. In the past, Violet Stane insisted on marrying River Marsh and never thought about getting a divorce. After all, she had spent ten years pursuing this aloof ice prince. Once she married him, she gave up on her flourishing career, stopped being so aggressive, obeyed the ridiculous number of house rules, and became the perfect wife for River. But she no longer wanted to do that.

At the wedding, just as we were right in the middle of exchanging rings, my fiancé, Ethan Nash, stepped away from the altar. “I just need to take care of something. I’ll be right back.” Before I could say anything, he had already hurried away. Everyone watched as he walked straight to his childhood friend, Ruth Trew, opened her water bottle for her, and then rushed back. “No harm done, right? It only took ten seconds.” I stood there frozen. I had actually believed something was wrong. My heart had been in my throat. Perhaps, to him, Ruth came before everything. It was just like the ten minutes everyone had to wait so she could be in the photo, or the two hours I had to wait while he took a detour to pick her up from work. I did not know how many more moments like that were ahead of me, be it a dozen seconds or ten minutes, ten hours, ten days, or even ten years. The officiant, Marcus Oakley, looked grim. He tried to lighten the mood, but nothing he did could save it. “Well, the groom has left the altar for a moment. Umm...” I took the microphone from him. All it took was ten seconds. At that moment, I was done. I did not want to get married any longer.

On the high platform, Garrett Logan suddenly unclipped the safety harness at my back. Before I could even react, he shoved me off. I slammed hard onto the crash pad below, pain ripping through my entire body. By the time the staff pulled me back up, his childhood friend, Sienna Yates, was doubled over with laughter, holding up her phone. On her screen, the clip of me falling kept replaying on a loop. “Garrett, did you see her face just now?” The moment Sienna laughed, Garrett visibly relaxed. Sienna was autistic, and for some reason, nothing made her laugh like watching me humiliate myself. So during the ten years I dated Garrett, scenes like this happened over and over again. When I lost my job, Garrett hung up a banner and celebrated with her. When I was hospitalized after a car accident, he stood outside my room with her and watched me like I was entertainment. Every year on her birthday, he made me dress up like a clown just to make her smile. He knew perfectly well that without a safety harness, I could have died. But if it meant making Sienna happy, Garrett would push me without a second thought. Blood ran from the gash on my forehead, blurring my vision. As I kept wiping it away, one thought rose with startling clarity: Maybe I was finally done holding on to a ten-year mistake.

On the day of my daughter’s dance competition, a madman suddenly charged at her with an iron rod. To protect her, I took dozens of hits, and my arm was brutally broken. My husband, William Zafron, caught the madman on the spot and rushed us to his private hospital. In the hospital room, I woke up from the pain and tried to call for William. Then I overheard the doctor asking him, “Weren’t we just replacing the knee joint? Why did you hurt Ms. Nina and kill Ella?” “Nina only has a broken arm and some wounds. Her injuries aren’t fatal.” William replied, “Ella’s purpose was to be an organ carrier for Sophia’s daughter. Now that she has fulfilled her role, there’s no need for her to live. “After all... Sophia’s daughter is my own child.” That was when I realized that my daughter was just an organ carrier to him. What he did not know was that Sophia’s daughter was not even his.

When the Carter family went bankrupt, Zoe Carter sold herself to the Tanners to save her mother. She became the bride of Yale Tanner, the man everyone in Gerton feared and avoided like the devil himself. Their marriage was supposed to bring him good fortune and save his life. Three days after the wedding, Yale, who had been on the brink of death from a gunshot wound, made a miraculous recovery. From then on, he treated Zoe like the most precious thing in his world. Now, however, Zoe sat bound at the wrists and ankles with coarse hemp rope, less than two feet from the open door of a helicopter. Freezing water jolted her awake. At thirty-three thousand feet, the icy wind rushing through the open doorway chilled her to the bone. She struggled instinctively, but the ropes only tightened, digging into her flesh until blood began to seep from her wrists and ankles. "Don't be scared, Zoe. Look at your mother! She's putting on quite the kite show!" Yale seized her trembling head and forced her to look at the screen beside her. There, suspended from a rope outside the helicopter, her mother dangled helplessly in the wind, her eyes vacant as she swayed like a kite. "Mom! Mom!" Her fear for her mother overwhelmed her own terror. Frantically, Zoe tried to crawl toward the screen, struggling forward on her bound hands and feet. Yale caught her by the back of her neck and held her firmly in place. His warm breath brushed her ear as he spoke, his voice cold and menacing. "Have you learned to behave yourself yet, Zoe? Now tell me, who do the data and research papers on precision-targeted therapies and antibody-drug conjugates really belong to?"

The clock was ticking with twelve minutes left before the ceremony was supposed to begin. The wedding car that my bride, Teagan, and I sat in stopped at the curb. The church doors stood open a hundred yards away, ready for our arrival. My parents and relatives were gathered outside with the officiant, photographer, wedding coordinator, and the rest of the bridal party. The wedding coordinator’s voice came through my earpiece. “Parker, you’re clear to head in. We’re starting at 9 sharp.” I was about to tell the driver to go when the door of the groomsmen’s SUV behind us swung open. “Hold up. I forgot my tie.” That was enough to halt the entire procession. Teagan unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out. “Oh, no! It won’t look good in the picture if a groomsman is missing a tie.” Standing by the SUV, Luke looked at me with a smile. “Parker, have the driver wait a minute. I can’t show up at your wedding in a white and collar sticking out. I will make you look bad.” He then turned to Teagan. “Don’t I have a spare tie kept with you? Can you help me find it?” Teagan nodded and dumped her bouquet on me, just to dig through the bags at the back of the car. Silence gripped the air. My mother’s face went white. I held the bouquet, my eyes fixating on Teagan. “We’re going to be late for our wedding, Teagan. We can still make it if we go now.” Teagan frowned. “I’m already here anyway. What’s a few minutes?” As Teagan went on a mission to get Luke a tie, I broke into a smile. Turning around, I held my phone and texted a number I had almost forgotten. “Don’t you want to marry me? Be at the church at 9. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Right before graduation, I paid a scalper a small fortune for tickets to see the singer my girlfriend, Natasha Stanwick, loved most. During intermission, the whole arena played the kiss cam game. Any two people caught on camera had to kiss in front of the entire audience. The first few couples who appeared on screen kissed to roaring cheers, each pair more passionate than the last. When Natasha and I appeared on the big screen, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. I had pursued Natasha for three years and dated her for three months, but the most intimate thing we had ever done was hold hands. If our first kiss could happen right then, it would become the most unforgettable memory we shared. The crowd erupted around us, every voice in the arena chanting, "Kiss! Kiss!" I turned my head and leaned toward her, my face burning hot. Natasha turned toward me as well. Full of anticipation, I closed my eyes and waited for my first kiss. The next instant, a pair of small hands landed on my shoulders and shoved me back.

We're playing "Never Have I Ever" at a bachelor party when my girlfriend, Veronica Smith, draws a card that reads, "I have never betrayed my best friend." The moment her words fall, the room freezes as if someone hit pause. Everyone looks at me at the same time. Three seconds later, they wordlessly pick up the drinks in front of them and down them in unison. I am the sole winner of this round, which means I get to ask the losers a truth question or give them a dare. Hence, without hesitation, I ask, "How did you betray your friend?" To my surprise, everyone remains dead silent. My close friend, Ian Lachlan, is about to take his punishment shot when Veronica, who has been silent for a long time, holds his hand down and looks at me. "Don't make things difficult for them. I'll tell you. The truth is, I've been with Ian for five years. I'm pregnant, and I can't let our unborn child be illegitimate." In an instant, tears well up in his eyes, and he can't even bring himself to look at me. Bridget Rochelle, my cousin, also comes clean. "To be honest, we've known all along. Ian and Veronica tied the knot in their hometown last year, and we all attended their wedding. Your adoptive parents accepted it too. They just asked us not to tell you for the time being." At that moment, the party lights hit my eyes, and everyone's faces blur. Their confessions echo in my ears, one after another. Turns out, for seven years, I've been living a lie.

On my wedding day, my boyfriend, Theodore Gunther, suddenly stops the wedding ceremony—all because Gwen Lithgow has updated her social media to say she's back. Theodore throws away the wedding ring he designed. He leaves me at the altar without another look back. I'm dumbfounded as I stand there in my wedding dress. My brother, Alvin Chilton, who's supporting me, lets go. "You've always been strong, Joycelyn. I know you can handle this alone. Gwen needs me more now." With that, he also leaves. He and Theodore have both left me for the same woman. They abandon me alone. That night, after dealing with the fallout of the failed wedding, Gwen sends me a photo. In it, Theodore and Alvin are standing by her bedside. She wears the necklace Theodore made himself and the wedding dress Alvin designed. Those were supposed to be mine. The image makes me lose hope in them. Tears stream down my face as I make a call. "Mom, Dad, I've changed my mind. I want to go home."

Victoria Blackwood was a completely different person after being reborn. She no longer woke up before sunrise to make breakfast for Sebastian Blackwood and deliver it to his military unit so he could enjoy a home-cooked meal. She no longer picked up their son from daycare every evening, holding his little hand as he excitedly told her about the new songs he had learned that day. Even after their son, Ethan Blackwood, was injured in a car accident and rushed to the hospital, Victoria ignored Sebastian's repeated calls. It wasn't until his 38th call that she finally answered, taking her time as if nothing were wrong. Sebastian's voice was filled with worry, but he was clearly holding back his anger. "Do you even know Ethan was in a car accident?" Victoria held the phone to her ear while looking over the documents in front of her. She replied calmly, "I know. Haven't you already called me dozens of times?"

Dorian Keller hated hassle more than anything—so much that he kept a "standard schedule." Every gift was bought in bulk and shipped to arrive on the birthday itself. We always went to the same date spot. Trying a new restaurant took a written request a month in advance. Even intimacy had an alarm set for it. "Life's about keeping things simple. Let's not make trouble for each other." For seven years, I thought he was like that with everyone. Then, at a get-together with friends, the server brought out a plate of pomegranate. He took it and peeled it seed by seed into a glass bowl, picking away every bit of white pith. I was sitting right next to him. I reached for it. He paused and looked at me. Then he set the bowl in front of Arabella Crane. The girl who used to bully me. In high school, she tore up my homework, poured glue on my chair, and locked me in a bathroom through an entire class. Back then, Dorian pointed in her face and told her she'd die a miserable death. Now he sat beside me, slid the only bowl of pomegranate over to her, and said softly, "Slow down." I pulled my hand back. In that moment, I didn't want to stay there a second longer. And I didn't want him anymore either.

On the eve of my wedding, my friends threw a joint bachelor and bachelorette party for Natalie Cole and me at a bar. After a few rounds of drinks, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The bottle landed on me first. My younger brother, Kayden Wilson, grinned. "I dare you to take off your pants. Let's see what you've got." The whole table immediately erupted in cheers. I glanced at Natalie, but she kept her head down and continued scrolling through her phone without a word. Hence, I took off my pants and stood there in nothing but my underwear. In the second round, the bottle landed on me again. My sister, Hannah Wilson, raised her glass and asked half-jokingly, "Logan, I dare you to admit you're pathetic enough that you can't live without a woman." My face burned, but everyone was staring at me, waiting to see if I'd ruin the mood. I closed my eyes and said hoarsely, "I admit it." Eventually, the bottle landed on Natalie. Her friend, Veronica Reed, grinned. "I dare you to tell your soon-to-be hubby what you were doing behind everyone's back last night." Natalie paused for two seconds before she looked at Benjamin Henderson beside her, her eyes full of affection. "He got drunk and insisted I take him back to his hotel. Then he threw up all over himself, so I helped him shower and changed him into his pajamas. He said he didn't want to sleep alone, so I held him until morning," she revealed. The private room fell silent for a moment before suggestive laughter erupted around the table. Benjamin playfully tickled her and scolded her for embarrassing him by revealing his secrets. But I stood there frozen, unable to say a word. Finally, Veronica pointed toward the little quickie wedding chapel attached to the bar. "Then I dare you to take Benjamin over there, get married, and have it annulled afterward." Benjamin's eyes lit up as he looked at Natalie. I looked at her too. Natalie gave an exasperated smile, took his hand, and walked toward the chapel as the crowd cheered them on. At that moment, I suddenly felt there was no point in going through with our wedding the day after tomorrow.