Reborn Romance の短編小説 &BiasFace Slapping小説

On the day of my tenth wedding anniversary, my best friend, Jordan Price, shows up at my doorstep with a cancer diagnosis. He informs me he only has a month left to live, and his dying wish is to have my wife, Renee Myers, be his bride for a day to complete a non-binding wedding ceremony. In my previous life, I find the whole idea absurd. I tell him it isn't appropriate and turn him down. That night, he leaves a suicide note and jumps into the ocean. Jordan had been orphaned at a young age, and Mom takes him in and raises him as her own. When my son, Oliver Hall, is five years old, Jordan even risks his life to rescue him from a blazing building. Consequently, my entire family concludes that my sins are unforgivable and that I've driven him to his grave. Mom disowns me, and my younger brother, Philip Hall, cuts off all contact with me. Every year, Renee will wear her wedding gown and go to the beach to mourn him. My wife and son loathe me for a decade. … On the day of Oliver's wedding, he sets Jordan's memorial portrait at the head table and publicly declares that he wants nothing to do with me, his father, who supposedly killed the man who saved his life. Later on, after I suffer a stroke and end up paralyzed, Renee frames me as mentally unstable and has me committed to a mental asylum. On the day I breathe my last, I receive a video. Jordan, who is supposed to have been dead for a decade, has his arm around my wife. He's all smiles as he tells me he doesn't have cancer, and he never actually killed himself. … When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Jordan hands me his cancer diagnosis. Renee's eyes are brimming with tears as she takes off her wedding ring. "Jordan only wants me to be his bride for a day. Can't you grant him this one wish?" Everyone expects me to refuse. However, I take the ring from her and casually toss it into the trash. "I can. Sign the divorce agreement today, and I'll walk you down the aisle tomorrow."

After getting a second chance at life, I immediately cut all ties with Natalie Duvall and Cody Hudson. In my previous life, Natalie blindsides me with a divorce eight years into our marriage after falling for a race car driver. She looks down on me, complaining that I'm just a boring homebody who does nothing but cook and clean. Even Cody piles on, telling me, "Mr. Maddox is going to be a world champion one day, Dad. Stop being so pathetic and petty!" The two of them pack their bags and walk out on me. I can't let them go, but my desperate search for them that night ends in a fatal car crash. As my life bleeds out on the asphalt, regret consumes me. Natalie forgets that I used to be a world-class driver myself, only to give up my career and step out of the spotlight to focus on our marriage and raise our kid. So, with a clean slate in this life, I sign the divorce papers without a moment's hesitation and vanish without a trace. Five years later, at the Elandorian Championship, Natalie and Cody push their way through the crowd like madmen, cutting off my path. With bloodshot eyes, Natalie corners me and demands, "We spent five years looking for you. Did you seriously ditch your family just to go back to racing?" Her audacity takes me aback. Before I can even muster a response, my daughter, Daphne Hudson, grabs my hand. "Daddy, Mommy and the others are waiting to celebrate your big win. Who are these people?"

After the 100th failed fertility treatment, my husband, who had been previously diagnosed with a low sperm count, spoke coldly. “Lucy is very fertile. She gets pregnant after our first time, unlike you. You just can’t conceive.” Lucy was my adoptive sister. While holding her hand, he laid out three options for me. I could either ignore their affair and retain my title as the CEO’s wife, take the ten million dollars and disappear, or walk away with nothing at all. The whole town knew how proud I was. They also knew how deeply I loved him. They surely expected me to be mad with jealousy and choose honor over compromise. But I neither cried nor made a scene. I calmly slid the check back across the table. “The child will call me Mom. I’ll stay and be Mrs. Carter.” After all, this was my third time to live such a life. The first time, I chose to leave with nothing but my dignity. The second time, I took the money, but had to live in shame. Both decisions ended in tragedy. For the third time, perhaps three of us could just... make it work.

Ten years of devotion. Ten years of playing the "perfect" wife. All for a lie. I spent a decade as a ghost in my own home, scrubbing floors for a husband who never loved me and raising children who treated me like the help. But when I discover the ultimate betrayal—a forged marriage certificate and a plot that murdered my parents—my heart finally shatters. Trying to confront the people who betrayed me, I was murdered. But instead of dying, I wake up to the past. It’s June 14th. The morning of my wedding. My parents are still alive, my "loving" fiancé is downstairs plotting his first theft, and my twin sister is hiding her evil thoughts behind her innocent smile. I have less than 24 hours before the "I do" that ruined my life. Less than 24 hours to move millions in assets, stop a fatal car crash, and expose the affairs.

An accident leaves Preston Brown unable to have children. The fight over his family's fortune is heating up. Desperate for an heir, Preston arranges for me to sleep with his best friend, Rowan Kerr. I quietly dump the sleeping pills Preston gave me and pretend to be clueless. Then, I lose myself in a night of passion with Rowan. … The next morning, right in front of Preston, I smile sweetly and say, "Honey, you were incredible last night. I've never felt so good." His expression darkens. "Do you prefer the man I am by day, or the one who takes you at night?" I act bashful, tugging on his sleeve. "Both. But I especially love the one who knows how to satisfy me at night."

My father, Caelion, was the High King of the Three Realms, and my mother was Aurelia, goddess of the sun. As their only son, I was meant to inherit my father’s throne. But my sisters became so absurdly infatuated with Corvin, a lowly sparrow from the mortal world who had assumed human form, that they allowed him to pass himself off as me. Father held my coming-of-age feast at the Silvermere Palace. There, he presented me with the Atlas of Dominion. Corvin had snatched it from my hands and sneered. “I will take your place on the throne.” A murderous rage stirred inside me. In the original timeline, I had swallowed every insult for the sake of my family, only for them to join forces and murder me in the end. Since fate had sent me back to that fated day, I would not make the same mistake twice. I wrenched the Atlas of Dominion from Corvin’s grasp. As he stared at me in disbelief, I punched him. “This was Father’s gift to me. What makes a witless little bird like you think you are worthy of touching it? Guards!”

The day I found out I was pregnant, my husband, Julian Calloway, told me he had been reborn and wanted a divorce. “Three months from now, I’ll go bankrupt. You’ll work yourself to death helping me pay off my debts, and you’ll die young. “This time, I absolutely refuse to drag you down with me. Take this $9,000,000. We’ll get divorced—” Before he could finish, I picked up the pen and signed. “Fine. Just transfer the money to my account.” That evening, while I was gathering my things from the living room, I overheard Julian’s secretary, Naomi Foster, speaking smugly through his phone. “I can’t believe she’s actually that stupid. How did she ever get into Harvard? “You made up some ridiculous story about being reborn and going bankrupt, and she actually believed you.” Julian chuckled. “Who cares? If she leaves quietly with the money, isn’t that better than having her make a scene?” I raised an eyebrow. Of course I knew he was lying. Because I really had been reborn. And in one month, Julian Calloway really would go bankrupt.

After being reborn, I decided to write my sister's name on the marriage application. This time, I would help Sebastian Holt achieve his wishes. In this lifetime, I took the lead—I let my sister wear the wedding dress first and put the engagement ring on her finger. I personally orchestrated every encounter between Sebastian and my sister. When he took her to the capital city, I headed to Southport University without a second thought. In my previous life, even when I was over 50 years old, he and our son still knelt before me, begging for a divorce. This time, I would fulfill his final romantic destiny with my sister. Living this second life, all I wanted was to spread my wings and soar high, free from love's entanglements.

At the medical summit, my husband's precious first love thought the old professor's clothes were too shabby for such a grand occasion. So she dropped his conference badge into the trash. The old man shook with fury and threatened to pull his company's partnership with us on the spot. In my last life, I slapped her across the face right there, then bowed and scraped until the professor forgave us, and that was the only thing that saved our company. My husband, meanwhile, was heartbroken that his darling had been hit, and took her home to comfort her. Later, our company rode the professor's patented miracle drug all the way to its IPO. On the day of the celebration, indecent videos made with my face swapped via AI rolled continuously across the giant screen. And in front of a hall full of sneering guests, my husband pulled his first love tight against his chest. "You love slapping people in public, don't you? Today you get to taste what it feels like to be finished." I ran out of the hotel, sick with shame, and a runaway truck flattened me into the pavement. Then he turned around, threw the wedding of the century for his golden girl, and drove my parents into the street to die alone in the cold. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact second she tossed that badge into the trash. This time, I didn't fly into a rage to stop her. Instead I curled my arm sweetly through my husband's and laughed louder than anyone in the room. "Babe, Tiffany's got such a sharp eye. Security should've thrown this ragged beggar out ages ago."

During the year-end review, Shirley Johnson, Chris Kennedy’s childhood friend, said she wanted to take over as the project lead so she could get promoted to deputy general manager. For the sake of the company, I turned her down. Shirley, furious, quit on the spot and went to get married. Under my lead, the project brought in billions, and the company went public in one leap. Later, I married Chris. During our honeymoon, I was kidnapped and dragged into an underground compound in Morandia. I was about to call for help when I heard Chris say, "Do whatever you want with this vile woman." I desperately demanded to know why. Chris kicked me in the stomach. "If you hadn’t forced your way into the project lead position back then, Shirley wouldn’t have been pushed into that marriage! She wouldn’t have been abused to death. You owe her." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Shirley demanded to be the project lead.

Ten years after I missed my shot at college, I was selling burgers from a street cart when I ran into Marisa Doyle. Her eyes fell on the empty pant leg where my left leg should have been, and she froze. I calmly bagged up her order and held it out. "That'll be ten dollars." She did not take it. Instead, she scanned the QR code taped to my cart, and my phone chimed with a notification. She had sent me a million dollars. "I never thought you'd end up like this. Back then... What I did to you was wrong. I gave your Wexley University acceptance letter to Tobias." Scalding grease spattered off the griddle and turned my arm red, but I did not feel a thing. Ten years earlier, Tobias Kerr had been brought home as the family's real son, and I had become the fake heir nobody needed anymore. Even my engagement to Marisa was handed over to him. Anger stung my eyes as I stared at the diamond ring on her finger, and my voice broke. "So now that it's all out, you get to feel better. What about me?" After losing my place at college, I was thrown out of the house. I scraped through community college and hit dead ends everywhere I turned. When I finally found a job that kept food on the table, a car accident took one of my legs. Just then, a runaway truck came barreling straight at me. Marisa lunged forward and shoved me out of the way. A second later, the truck slammed into her and sent her flying. In her final moments, she apologized to me. "I've paid back everything I owed you. Please don't hate me. If there's another life, don't love me again." Her blood splashed across my face. The moment her hand went limp, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day everything changed.

I open my eyes, only to find Monica Shepherd lying beneath me. I'm just about to get up when a sudden ringing sound prompts Monica to shove me away. Monica's previously flushed face turns completely cold the moment she hangs up. She lights up a cigarette and says indifferently, "You shouldn't come around anymore since the new man I'm seeing gets incredibly jealous. He's quite a handful to deal with." I look into her eyes and readily agree. In my past life, I refuse to let go after she falls for someone else, shamelessly clinging to her like a desperate simp. She absolutely loathes me for that, though, to the point that when she sees a group of thugs break my leg and drag me into an alley, she doesn't hesitate for a second to grab her new man, Michael Harrison, turn her back, and walk away. In this lifetime, I'm the one who doesn't want Monica anymore.

Shortly after our wedding, my husband, Lucas Whitmore, got into a car crash that left him paralyzed. For over forty years, I gave up everything to take care of him. However, it wasn’t until the day he passed away that I discovered the sickening truth. In his will, he left every single cent to his high school crush. I was evicted from the home I’d called mine for decades. Shaking and leaning heavily on my cane, I dragged myself to a lawyer’s office to reclaim my legal share of the estate as his widow. That was when they dropped the second bomb: he had secretly divorced me years ago. Before I could even process the shock, Lucas’ high school crush, Lily Collins, showed up to rub salt in the wound. "You really had no idea, did you?" She sneered, leaning in close. "Lucas was so worried I wouldn't be able to support myself. He didn’t just find me a high-paying job. He transferred all his money, plus every single paycheck you earned over the years, straight into my account." She continued, "Oh, and remember how he never wanted kids with you? That was because we already had a son together. Honestly, I should thank you for paying to raise our boy." Rage boiled over inside me. My pulse thundered in my ears. Before I could do anything, Lily lunged forward. She grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back, and drove her sharp nails deep into my face. That night, her son hired a gang of thugs to corner me in an alley. They threw a burlap sack over my head and beat me to death, laughing while I spat up blood. Then, my eyes snapped open. I was staring at my husband. He was young again, his legs newly paralyzed, his eyes rimmed red as he stared at me with a pathetic, tragic expression. "Scarlett, the doctor said I’m never going to walk again," Lucas whined, his voice trembling, "What am I supposed to do if I can't get a job?" I quietly slid the debit card I had been about to hand him back into my pocket. A cold laugh ripped from my throat. "What are you supposed to do? I guess you can lie there and starve, and I'll throw you a real nice funeral when you're done."

My best friend said she was just protecting me from bad men. So every time I started dating someone new, she would turn herself into his dream girl. She'd flirt, chase him, and seduce him until she ended up in his bed. And every time, she'd send me the photos. Always with the same cheerful caption: "Bestie! If I hadn't tested him, you'd be heartbroken again. Aren't I good to you?" I was tortured, broken, humiliated. Eventually, I cut her off completely and moved to another city. Then I met the man I thought was my true love—Liam. He was kind, devoted, and loving. I thought I could finally be happy. On my wedding day, I found Madison standing in my dressing room, disguised as my makeup artist. She smiled at me, just like she used to. "Don't worry, bestie," she whispered. "Let me test this one for you. Then you can marry him." She drugged me, then put on my wedding gown and got into bed with Liam. But I woke up in time. I burst into the room with our families. I caught them together. Later, I got pregnant. During labor, I hemorrhaged. Liam watched me bleed and refused to sign the emergency consent form. "Madison just wanted to give herself to me before our wedding—to fulfill her wish," he said coldly. "You humiliated her. You drove her to suicide. She died carrying my child." "You and the bastard in your belly deserve to die too." That was when I realized—the man I loved had already fallen for my best friend. I died in agony. My ashes were thrown into a ditch. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. On my wedding day. And Madison was standing right in front of me, pretending to be my makeup artist.

My wife, Piper Carlson, yanked out my ventilator tube with her own hands. All because she believed the man who donated a kidney to save her was the guy she'd never gotten over. And me? The husband she'd hated for ten years? Just a liar who stole his credit. "Don't be scared, Elliot. The thief who stole your life finally got what he deserved." The second she pulled the tube, my body locked up. I couldn't breathe. Piper barely looked at me. She just held her "savior" close, relieved I was finally gone. Then, while I was dying, she hit me with one last secret. "Marco, wanna know why you could never get me pregnant again? I slipped something into every bottle of vitamins I gave you. You don't deserve my child." I was so furious I almost lost it. But Piper was already posting her marriage certificate with Elliot Lacy. [After everything we've been through, I finally got my happy ending with the man who saved me.] With the last bit of strength I had, I left one final comment. [Piper, how's my kidney treating you?] Then I opened my eyes. I was back ten years earlier, on the rainy night Elliot stole credit for saving her with my kidney.

To help his childhood friend secure a spot in a high-ranking institution, my boyfriend, Frederick Linton, steals my academic report. The two of them use my work to publish a research paper before I can. Then, they proceed to accuse me of plagiarism. After they twist the truth and spread it online, I become the target of a vicious wave of cyberbullying. Eventually, the relentless harassment drives me into severe depression. Meanwhile, Frederick's childhood friend, Elaine Anders, rises to prominence in the academic world using my work. On the day Elaine receives her award, Frederick gets down on one knee and proposes to her. I, on the other hand, end my life by jumping off a rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day I finished my research paper.

I was known all throughout high society as the perfect, obedient daughter. Suitors lined up at my door in droves, yet I insisted on marrying Grayson Thatcher, whose family fortune had crumbled, all because of a promise we made when we were young. I thought we would be partners building a life together, but he fell deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, a girl who spent her days running wild. The night before our wedding, he went street racing with her and they both got arrested, causing him to miss the ceremony entirely. The scandal made it everywhere. On New Year's Eve, he left me to organize the family banquet alone while he ran off with his childhood sweetheart to some crowded plaza. To see a different display of fireworks, they set fire to balloons people had released into the sky and triggered a massive blaze. Once again, I exhausted every connection I had to get him out of the mess. I cleaned up 999 of his reckless mistakes and kept the Thatcher family's business afloat, making sure he could live without a care in the world. I thought that eventually, he would at least remember some small part of what we meant to each other. Yet when I fell critically ill and needed a heart transplant, he took the only available donor heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart instead. That was the first time I broke down and demanded answers. He stared at me, cold and unmoved. "You have the nerve to ask me that? If you hadn't forced yourself on me, I would've gotten together with Maeve years ago. You're as stiff as an old lady. How could you ever compare to someone like her? She's full of life. "I've let you play Mrs. Thatcher for over a decade. I was more than generous. Maeve is going to be my wife now. When she dies, we'll be buried together. You won't even get that much." I died consumed by bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the matchmaking event. I picked up the marriage proposal the Thatchers had sent and tore it to pieces. Then, I reached for the one from the wealthiest family in the room and smiled. "Dad, if I have to get married anyway, I might as well marry the man with the most money and power."

After being reborn, I secretly switch the man I want to marry the most to the useless scion who loves flirting with me that lives next door. My dad, who's a high-ranking military colonel, is quite surprised by my choice, but he respects my wishes. In my past life, when Dad asked who I liked the most in the entire neighborhood, I had written down Damian Conrad's name. He nodded and told me, "This man has contributed greatly to the country despite only joining the army for three years. His future will definitely be a bright one. "A man as just and fair as him will undoubtedly be a good man who takes good care of his family and stays devoted to them." Dad immediately arranged for the two families to meet. Everyone thought that it was a rare and fated union. Our wedding was very grand and high-profile. Most of the people living in the military base came over to celebrate our wedding. But Damian set off for the frontier half a year after our marriage, with the excuse of wanting to contribute to the country. Not only did he leave me behind to take care of my in-laws on my own, but he also cut off all contact with me when Dad was severely ill. When I was finally done dealing with Dad's funeral matters, all I received was the bad news of Damian's death at the frontier. Crushed by the devastation and despair of the news, I fell into severe depression. Soon, I took my own life by jumping off the building. After my death, my soul refused to fade away at all. 40 years later, an elderly man and woman with graying hair showed up before my grave. With an arm around Heidi Myers' waist, Damian paid his respects to me at my grave. "It's my fault for lying to you back then, Carla. But Heidi doesn't have much time to live, so I can resort to desperate measures. Please let everything go and stop pestering her, Carla. If you really are resentful, feel free to come at me instead." It turns out that Damian loved Heidi this much that he was willing to fake his death just to trick me. But at the same time, they were so superstitious that they thought I was the one pestering Heidi, causing her to be afflicted with a terminal cancer. Now that I found out about the truth, I finally let my obsession go. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day Dad asks me who I want to marry the most.

I was in the parking garage of my Beverly Hills high-rise. And I backed my car into my neighbor's Ferrari. On purpose. I got out, a half-empty bottle of tequila in my hand, right in front of her. "Are you blind? Do you know how much this car costs? Can you even afford to fix it?" She was furious, her face turning red as she whipped out her phone to call 911. I just smirked. "You should probably call them. Get the LAPD down here to arrest me. I'll wait." The first time around, I was the fall guy for my fiancé, Grant, and his sister, Blair. They got high at some Hollywood party, went joyriding, and killed an innocent valet. But the car was my Porsche. And they swore I was the one driving. I rotted in a California state prison for ten years. The shock killed my mom. A heart attack. When I got out, they weren't done. They forged offshore debts to drain my trust fund and drove me to suicide. I woke up 24 hours before it all happened again.

My wife, Valerie Larson, had a congenital heart condition. Despite that, she still wanted to have a child with her first love, Eugene Dyer. I refused without a second thought. Ten months later, Eugene's mother, Susan Turner, passed away. Her eyes were still wide open as if refusing to accept death without ever holding her grandchild. Overcome with guilt for failing his mother, Eugene took his own life in his small, rundown apartment. Valerie, consumed by grief and anger, took us on a road trip, only to crash the car head-on into a truck without hesitation. She shouted, "It's your fault Eugene died! If you had let me give him a child, he never would have ended up like that! His whole family is gone, so yours doesn't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Valerie first asked to have Eugene's child. This time, I forced a small smile and said, "Darling, go ahead. Our whole family will support you."