Feel-Good Story Romance Short Stories & Bias Karma Novels

Conan Hamilton's true love secretly wears my wedding gown. She's pregnant, and she slips and falls when we argue. After being taken to the hospital, she's told that she'll never have another child. Conan is furious. He banishes me abroad to be a nun. A year later, he comes to the nunnery to take me home. However, all he finds is that I've long since broken free. I even have a child in my arms. His eyes are red as he snarls, "Are you trying to use the child to force me to marry you? Or do you just want to mock Queenie for not being able to bear children anymore?" He has no idea that the child isn't his. He also doesn't know that I'm about to marry someone else.

It's my wedding day. However, Julian Lancaster shoves me aside when he receives a call from Vivienne Hayes. "I'm sorry, honey. Vivi has an upset stomach—I need to bring her some medication for that."

On our fifth anniversary, Henry Judd—the guy who once swore he'd propose—rented out an entire mall for Cecilia Cheape's birthday. A diamond the size of a pigeon's egg sparkled on her finger. I'd been dumb enough to think it was meant for me. "Cece, I'm gonna give you a birthday you'll never forget," he announced, loud enough for the whole world to hear. Then he yanked the tab off a soda can and handed it to me. "Lulu, those gaudy things don't suit you. You deserve something unique." He slid the can tab onto my finger—his version of a proposal. Cecilia got the dream birthday. I got a piece of trash and a slap of reality. Later, when he found out I was marrying someone else, he got down on one knee with that same ring and begged me to say yes.

To get me to agree to a divorce, my husband lied and told me he had stomach cancer. I glanced at the medical report in my bag and said nothing. Instead, I broke down right then and there, sobbing like my heart was being ripped apart, absolutely refusing to divorce him. Because what he didn't know… was that he actually had cancer. Just not stomach cancer—liver cancer. And with his funeral coming up soon, if we divorced now, who would inherit all his assets? No way. I couldn't let this divorce happen!

After my family went bankrupt, I begged my fiancé Ryan to pump cash into our business. He didn't just refuse. He turned around and got engaged to someone else. When I was at the end of my rope, Ethan Brooks stepped up, tossing all his savings into my family's mess. Sadly, we missed our shot, and our company crashed. My parents couldn't handle it. They jumped off a building. Even so, I was thankful to Ethan and married him to pay him back. Three years later, at Lily Carter's birthday party, I overheard her talking to him. "You tanked the Harper family so I could win that bid. Won't Kelly blame you?" "For you, I'd give up everything. I'll just make it up to her." My blood ran cold as I realized our marriage was all a lie. The one he loved was Lily all along. I turned and left. If he was that hooked, I'd set him free.

The cataclysm was upon us. The world was besieged by a wave of deadly frost, covering everything it touched in an icy coffin. We were trapped in a cave of ice, but fortunately, Joshua Frost came to our rescue just in time. I thought I was saved, but I thought wrong. Joshua didn't even give me a moment of his time. Instead, he went to my best friend's side. "Irene isn't good with the cold, and she's not in the best of health. Just hang on for a bit, Sera. The rescue squad's coming soon." When the rescue squad did come, I had passed out from the extreme cold, my body numb. While I was weakened, Joshua stripped me of my Ability and gave it to my best friend.

The day my boyfriend got back together with his first love was the day I boarded the flight to Imperia. "Queenie was just a fling," said my boyfriend. "I'll never see her again. We'll be together forever." His friends were worried about my ruining his heartfelt confession, but I would not. Not this time. Before I went to Imperia, I promised my mentor I would join medical research, and I was half a month away from total communication cutoff. I would have to stay around for ten years for the research. I would not be allowed to contact anyone in the meantime. And thus, my ties to my soon-to-be ex were broken.

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

When my husband returned home to visit his parents, I noticed that he forgot to bring back the specialties he had bought. I ran after him, only to find him getting out of a car in a suit. His childhood friend stepped forward to welcome him. They held hands and smiled as they looked into each other’s eyes. They looked like a happy, newlywed couple. Only when my husband saw me standing not too far away did he hurriedly distance himself from his childhood friend. “Her mother’s critically ill, and her mother’s only wish is to see her get married. I’m just helping her.” I simply smiled. I pushed him right back to his childhood friend’s side and started cheering with everyone else. “When’s the baby coming?! I’ll be sure to wrap a nice gift!”

I'm betrothed to Hylton Miller from the moment I'm born. For as long as I can remember, he protects and loves me like I'm already his wife. Even if I get a tiny splinter on my hand, he holds it carefully as he gently clips it away. That is, until the young woman his family sponsors offends a client and is about to be sent to Zubania. He drugs me with a glass of wine. When I wake up, I'm in a foreign country and trapped in an illegal factory. Here, I endure inhuman abuse, torment, even humiliation... At my lowest, when despair almost swallows me whole, that sponsored young woman appears before me in a pristine, custom-made white gown. She smiles sweetly and presses the play button on a voice recording. And from the speaker comes the voice I long for every day and night. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family—they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back…" In that moment, it feels like someone tears my heart open with their bare hands.

My mother, Mariana Heimann, has terminal cancer. She wants me to get married before she dies. It takes 57 days of me pleading with my boyfriend, Hayden Weatherford, before he finally agrees to marry me. On the day we agreed to register our marriage, he's a no-show even after the city hall staff have clocked off from work. At the same time, Hayden's childhood friend, Scarlett Needham, shows off a photo of her and Hayden holding up their marriage certificate. It's captioned, "Time sure flies. In another week, we'll have been married for two months." It dawns on me that Hayden and Scarlett were married on the day I first begged him to marry me. I receive a message from Hayden on my phone. He apologizes, "Scarlett's family members were forcing her into marriage, Lucy. I couldn't stand by and watch her suffer, pressured into marrying a stranger. We'll get divorced in a week, after which you and I can get married." … One week later, I send Hayden a message as he waits for me in front of the city hall, dressed in a suit. "We'll never meet again, Hayden."

Anthony Lake, my wealthy fiance, falls in love with Lila Hart, a blind professional dancer, and insists on breaking off our engagement, even though I am the heiress of a powerful family in the region. To preserve the alliance between our families, I seek out renowned doctors to treat Lila and set the stage to support her comeback. However, she accuses me of humiliating her and insists on jumping into a river to prove her resolve. Ten years later, my former fiance has taken control of the region. He swallows up my family's assets and drives us to the brink of suicide. "This is the price you pay for killing her!" Then, I open my eyes, and I'm back in the moment where Anthony publicly confesses his love to Lila. This time, I walk straight toward Shane York, the silent mining tycoon from the northwest, who is quietly sitting in the corner. I wrap my arm around his neck, place his hand on my waist, and command him to kiss me.

Hayden Baxter's sidepiece comes up to me and throws yet another tantrum. "I love Hayden too much. Can't you let me have him?" Hayden sits quietly on one side but texts me, "Just say yes and humor her for a bit." I do as I am told, then wordlessly begin to pack up my stuff so I can move out of the home I share with Hayden. On my way out, I hear his friends jesting, "Elena is surprisingly obedient. Does this mean she'll abort her baby if you ask her to, Hayden?" Hayden raises a brow, looking nonchalant. "Want to place a bet on it? "I bet she'd whine and throw a fit at the hospital entrance in a week, only to give in and do as she's told." I don't argue. Instead, I quietly tap on my conversation with someone else. "Will you marry me?" "Yes."

On the day of our engagement, as we were driving to the banquet hall, a man holding a few-month-old baby stepped in front of our car. My first thought was that it was some kind of scam. I was about to get out and deal with him when I saw the panic on his face. "Cassidy," he said desperately, "our baby won't stop crying. Do you think something's wrong?" The moment she heard that, my fiancée shoved me out of the car. She took off with them without a single glance back. I just stood there in shock. So this was the truth. She'd been hiding a child with her ex all along. Alone, I went to the banquet hall to handle what remained of our celebration. Later, she called. "I feel terrible about this," she said. "I thought if I gave him the baby and gave you the marriage, it would balance things out. But when Stanley showed up today, I realized—he's the only one I want." I was done with her games. If that's how she felt, I'd walk away. So I made a simple phone call. "Grandma, I'm coming home. I'm ready to run the family business now."

I've dated Andrew Carter, my surgeon boyfriend, for seven years. We plan 66 weddings, and he cancels every single one for Selena Merrick. The first time, Selena botched a patient's injection. "Wait for me," he said, and I waited the entire day. The second time, she slipped and fell in the shower. We were just about to exchange rings, but he ditched me at the altar without a second thought, leaving me to face the ridicule from the guests. For all 65 weddings I held, Selena always found an excuse to lure Andrew away. At the 65th wedding, she claimed her dog was dying and threatened to take her life. My mom collapsed from stress-induced angina, yet Andrew still ran to Selena. Afterward, he kneels and begs us for forgiveness. "Selena is just a pitiful orphan, but you're the one I'll always love," he declares. I give him one last chance, yet he never fails to disappoint me. That is it. I break up with Andrew and join Doctors without Borders. Goodbye. Let's never meet again.

Celeste Lodge has been married to Terence Ford for three years. He's hated her guts the whole time. The day Winona Ford returns, he finally can't take it anymore and begins planning to fake his death so he can run away with her. "I'll fake my death in one month. I'll give up my position as heir to the Ford family and be with Winona forever." Hearing this from outside the operating room, Celeste Lodge immediately contacts a lawyer to draft divorce papers. Then, she calls her brother, Hayden Lodge, who lives abroad. "Hayden, I'm done with Terence. I'm ready to leave and live overseas with you."

I'm Jax Ryder, heir to the most powerful investment group in Veridian City. I had just returned from studying abroad. My father, worried I might impulsively marry the wrong woman, arranged a marriage for me with Everly, the heiress to the up-and-coming Sinclair Group. It was strictly a business arrangement. But that didn't mean I intended to just go through the motions. At the very least, I had to personally bid on the mansion that would serve as our marital home. And so, I found myself at the annual Starlight Charity Gala. When the legendary prime real estate, the "Siren's Cove Estate," was presented as the final auction item, I raised my paddle. Just as the gavel was about to fall, an arrogant voice cut through the room. "What right does a nobody like you have to bid? Step aside." The grand hall fell silent, the only sound the frantic clicking of camera shutters from all corners. I turned my head. A man in a flashy, sequined suit stood there. He swirled the champagne in his glass, his posture reeking of arrogance. Before I could even speak, the auctioneer brought the gavel down. "Sold! Congratulations to Mr. Brian Vance on winning the 'Siren's Cove Estate'!" I frowned, a flicker of anger rising within me. "The bidding wasn't over." "That's against the rules." Brian sneered. He looked me up and down, his eyes filled with contempt. "The rules?" He curled his lip. "Listen up. I'm Everly Sinclair's favorite stepbrother. In Veridian City, what I say goes." I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. This was interesting. My fiancée's stepbrother. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. "Everly, your dear brother just snatched the marital home I'd picked out. What are you going to do about it?"

When my son suffered a heart attack in the middle of the night, I rushed him to the hospital where my wife worked. Instead of taking charge herself, she handed the operation to an intern. "New doctors need opportunities to learn. I'll be right there supervising. Nothing will happen." But before the surgery even began, a phone call pulled her away, leaving a trembling Marvin Vance alone in the operating room. My son never made it off the operating table. I collapsed in the hallway, sobbing in grief. Yet I overheard my wife gently comforting Marvin. "For your first surgery, you held on this long. You've done an amazing job, my little cinnamon roll." Awkwardly copying trendy slang younger people used online, she reassured him with endless patience. Then she turned to me with a cold expression and demanded that I sign a letter forgiving Marvin. "He has his whole future ahead of him. You can't destroy his life." I tore the document to pieces and threatened to call the police and expose what had happened. In response, she arranged for a medical donation and had my son's body dissected that very night. Driven insane by grief, I threw myself from a building while clutching my son's ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my son's surgery. This time, I immediately contacted my parents and transferred him to another hospital. But that night, they still dissected a child.

My wife was eight months pregnant when she indulged her first love for the ninety-eighth time and let him run our child down with his car. My lawyer wife had promised me she'd bring him to justice, but in court, she suddenly changed her statement. "Mr. Quinn has a serious history of mental illness. His family will discipline him verbally, but he shouldn't be held criminally responsible." After the hearing, she shielded Caleb Quinn as he sobbed in public, then leaned close to my ear and said softly, "I promised you I'd only indulge him one hundred times. Let's just use up one chance. I can't watch him go to prison, can I?" I looked at my wife's flat stomach and felt calmer than I'd ever felt before. Then I nodded. She'd relied on that bet for six years, certain she could do anything. She'd forgotten there was only one chance left.

My girlfriend, Selena Jenkins, and I are committed to a strict 50-50 relationship. We are three years into our relationship, and we split everything down to a single bottle of water. Then, out of nowhere, I get a call from a kidnapper. "We have your girlfriend. Have 150 thousand dollars ready, or she dies!" I calmly launch our app, SplitMate. According to the algorithm, this unexpected incident falls under "shared risk", meaning she is responsible for 50% of the cost. However, after factoring in the personal insurance policy I took out on her behalf, she only needs to pay 35,550 dollars. I send the calculation results to the kidnapper. "This is her share. Please contact her family for the payment. I'm only responsible for my own portion." The line goes silent. A few minutes later, I receive a livestream link. The livestream shows Selena tied to a chair, smiling at her phone. The live chat in front of her is blowing up. "Holy shit! This guy's a monster. This is the craziest livestream I've seen all year!" Later on, she follows the 50-50 rule to a T, but I'm no longer on board with it.