Maiikling Kwento tungkol sa After Death at Romance, at mga Nobela ng Bias na may Regret

My wife's childhood friend and I were brought into the same hospital after a car crash. I had suffered a ruptured heart and needed emergency surgery. But my wife, Cassandra, was the hospital director. Instead of treating me, she ordered every available doctor to Miles Rowland's room so he could receive a full examination for a few minor scrapes. I begged her to save me. She only snapped, "Can you stop competing for attention for once? Do you have any idea Miles almost broke a bone?" In the end, I died in a corner where nobody found me. But when the wife who hated me most learned I was really dead, she lost her mind.

The day I'm diagnosed with cancer happens to be the birthday of my wife's adopted son, Logan Smith. Before the party starts, I end up coughing up blood and ruining the cheerful atmosphere. My wife, Rosalie Smith, doesn't take me to the hospital. Instead, she locks me up in the basement. She looks down at me bleeding out on the ground and says coldly, "Xander Kastel, you really know how to pick your timing. Of all days, you had to cough up blood on Lolo's birthday. How dare you do it today?" I beg her to take me to the hospital, but she says she has already consulted the doctor and knows that early-stage cancer can't cause me to cough up blood. She's convinced I'm deliberately putting on an act to get back at Caleb Anderson, her first love. I pleaded desperately. "I am your husband! Rosalie, please take me to the hospital. I promise I'll never show up again." Rosalie's face darkens, and she grabs me by the throat. "Don't play these push-and-pull games with me. As long as you stay here quietly until midnight passes and Lolo's birthday is over, of course, I'll take you to the hospital. Once you've recovered, you'll still be the Smith family's live-in son-in-law." I keep screaming from the agonizing pain I'm in. Rosalie thinks I'm being annoying, so she takes Caleb and Logan to a hotel to celebrate instead. Some time later, she suddenly thinks of me, so she asks her secretary if my surgery has gone well. Her secretary's face pales as he answers in a trembling voice, "Mr. Kastel has… has left with Ms. Kastel."

At the company dinner, my coworkers started a game: everyone texted their lover saying they’d fallen ill. Whoever’s man replied first won. No surprise, I came in dead last again. Both my calls and my texts went completely unanswered. “Claire, don’t feel bad. Mr. Blackwood is so busy, it’s completely normal he hasn’t seen your message.” A coworker smiled and tried to comfort me, but the truth was, I’d gotten used to it long ago. Forget a cold or a fever. Even the day I was diagnosed with cancer, I called him nineteen times, and he didn’t pick up once. When I stayed quiet, everyone turned to look at Vivian in the corner, and one coworker teased her with a grin. “Vivian, didn’t you say your boyfriend was super clingy? How come he still hasn’t replied?” Vivian clutched her phone, her face full of unease. “I’ll pass. What if he’s in a meeting? I don’t want to bother him.” The mood had gone stiff, and looking at her pale fingertips, I suddenly smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just a game.” Before she could refuse again, I leaned over and hit the speaker-dial for her. The call I’d expected no one to answer was picked up in an instant. The huge private room fell dead silent. Because the voice coming through the phone belonged to Adrian Blackwood, my forever-busy boyfriend of seven years. “Babe, don’t forget our date tonight.” “Seven o’clock. I’ll see you at The Laurent.”

Wade Cox's fiancée, Cecilia Hart, who should have been dead for seven years, suddenly comes back to life. When I go to find him, I discover that they are discussing marriage. Nestled in Wade's arms, Cecilia points at me as I stand at the back of the crowd. She asks, "Who is she, Wade?" Without hesitation, he answers, "She's just the host for the wedding." I clutch my chest, feeling the warning signs of a heart attack. But before I can question him, the bodyguards escort me out of the living room. Laughter and cheerful conversation continue inside. I stand outside, my hands and feet icy cold, consumed by pain. Two hours later, Wade finally comes out, looking confident and full of energy. The moment he sees the state I'm in, he hurriedly wraps me in his coat. He explains, "Cecilia has forgotten everything except that I'm her fiance. The doctors say any emotional shock could drive her to take her own life. The wedding isn't real. It's just to make her happy. The one I love has always been you." I can no longer hold on at that point—I pass out. Wade panics as he carries me to the car. Even his voice is trembling as he assures me. "Don't be afraid, Stella. We've already found a compatible heart donor. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm taking you to the best hospital right now." He has just put me into the passenger seat when he sees Cecilia standing nearby with tears in her eyes. "Wade, are you abandoning me?" she asks sadly. It takes him only a second to make his choice. One finger at a time, he pries my hand from his. Then, he closes the car door. After that, Wade never appears before me again. Instead, he sends me a message, saying, "Great news, Stella. The surgery was a success! Cecilia can't handle any emotional stress right now. Can you go away and lie low for three months? After that, we'll spend the rest of our lives together." The promises are beautiful, but he doesn't know the truth. The surgery isn't successful at all, and three months is far too long. I don't have that much time left.

When I found out I had terminal cancer and only a month left to live, my wife didn't want to talk about my illness. All she wanted was for me to donate a kidney to the man she'd never stopped loving. For five years of marriage, I cooked for her and poured every bit of love I had into her. Yet, she never once looked my way. Then, I actually died, and that was when she finally regretted it. She knelt devoutly at the church, praying I would come back to her.

Chelsea Fischer's childhood sweetheart, Patrick Goldstein, loves fighting with me over everything. After I get reborn, I realize that I can never win against Patrick. So, I decide to attach price tags to everything I own. Since Patrick loves taking over Chelsea's front passenger seat under the guise of getting carsick easily, I slap a price tag onto the front passenger seat immediately. "That'll be 100 thousand dollars per year. If you decide to continue the subscription, you'll get a 20% discount." Patrick has his eye on my project proposal. As soon as Chelsea knocks on my office door, I say to her without even looking up, "Wire me 500 thousand dollars, and I'll change the project lead's name to Patrick's as soon as I receive the money." On the day of my daughter Callista Hammond's birthday, I reschedule all of my work matters so that I can hurry over to the kindergarten to pick her up. But Callista tells her teacher, "He's not my dad. I'm not leaving with him." While we're stuck in a stalemate, Patrick arrives at the kindergarten with the gift I've prepared for Callista. That's when Callista rushes over to hug his leg. "Take a good look, miss! This is my actual dad!" Chelsea is about to provide an explanation to me when I extend a hand to Callista. "Give me five million dollars, and I'll make sure that he gets your custody by the end of today."

On the 30th day my wife, Sonia Child, gave me the cold shoulder; she suddenly suggested that we go on a trip to reconcile our relationship. However, the moment we landed, she cut up my identification document and smashed my phone, leaving me to fend for myself on a remote island. Someone asked if she had gone too far, but Sonia caressed her belly and said with disdain, "It's his fault for being so petty. All I wanted to do was give Eddie a test-tube baby, yet he started making a fuss about getting a divorce. "The baby will be born in eight months. Henry won't go hungry on the island when water and food have been provided. He'll just suffer a little." Eight months later, my happy wife held her son in her arms while asking her assistant, Robert Larkin, "It's been so long. Why hasn't he made a fuss about coming home?" Sonia had no idea that I had died on the island on the very first day I was there.

The day I discover that my husband, Nick Goldberg, is cheating on me, my severe depression drives me to climb up to the rooftop. My older sister, Natalie Swift, stabs him before dragging him over to apologize to me. From then on, Natalie moves in with us and becomes his strictest watchdog. Every time he so much as twitches, Natalie is even more anxious than I am. With Natalie keeping watch over Nick, he genuinely changes. He deletes all of the female contacts he has and comes back home on time. It's to the point that he even reports to me when he's just going out to throw the trash. Because of this, I think that this battered, broken marriage of ours is finally getting a fresh start. However, that only lasts until I receive a call from me ten years into the future. As I take in the gaunt, hollow-eyed woman in front of me, I ask tentatively, "It's been ten years. Is my depression still not cured?" Instead of answering, she curls her lips into a smile that was more a horrible grimace and shows me a video. The video she shows me is of Nick pinning Natalie to the closet wall. His eyes are filled with suppressed pain as he says, "For three years now, we've stayed under the same roof, yet we still can't openly be together. Just how long do you plan on punishing me?" Natalie shuts her eyes, tears trailing down her cheeks. "What we did to Lena was unforgivable. Only by being apart can we atone for our sins." I stiffen, feeling as though I've been plunged into freezing waters. As it turns out, the woman I've been searching the entire city of Hollerton for is none other than my beloved older sister. Nick truly is quite skilled at hiding her, to the point that she's been living right under my nose for three entire years without me being any the wiser. The screen abruptly cuts back to my future self, who leans in closer with a crazed smile on her lips. "You hear that? As long as you still breathe, everyone is suffering. Only with you dead can everyone be free."

Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family. Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony. She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body. Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone. She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself. But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred. I refused to let my soul dissipate. I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

I make my way to the orphanage after receiving my cancer diagnosis, hoping to bid farewell to the orphan, Lillian Lowe, whom I was sponsoring financially. I unexpectedly find my husband, Henry Graham, who is meant to be on a business trip, and my sister, Felicity Sullivan, who is meant to be on a vacation. Their fingers are intertwined, while they use their free hands to playfully pinch Lillian's cheeks. Lillian rushes into their embrace, weeping pitifully. "Can you get rid of that mean lady at home? I just want to go home with Mommy and Daddy." I finally understand, at that moment, that Henry, whom I thought had loved me the most, is having an affair with Felicity. They even have a child together. Mom and Dad urge me to divorce Henry and make way for his new family. Lillian, the girl I once held dearly in my heart, curses me to an early death. Henry, the one who betrayed me, insists on keeping our marriage. It's too late, though. I'm already dying, just as they wished. Lillian, who once cried so much at the orphanage, now lives in a mansion with a father, a mother, and a pair of doting grandparents. Their perfect little life seems like a never-ending fairy tale. It is only when my lifeless body is before them that everyone suddenly loses their minds.

When my husband threatened me with divorce for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I did not cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers and willingly handed over the man I had loved for ten years to my sister. A few days later, my sister spoke recklessly at a banquet and offended a powerful family. Once again, I stepped forward to take responsibility, bearing all the consequences in her place. When they later proposed that I become a test subject for my sister's drug research, I gladly accepted. Mom and Dad said I had finally grown into someone mature and responsible. Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He said tenderly, "Don't be afraid. The experiment won't be life-threatening. When you get out, I'll cook you a big meal." However, he did not know that regardless of whether the experiment was dangerous or not, he did not have to wait for me because I was already dying from a terminal illness.

Three years after my death, Matt Lewinsky meets another professional gold digger just like me. He's not easy to fool anymore. He plays along and catches our ringleader, Simon Hale. "Where's Natalia? She scammed me out of so much money. Who knows where she's enjoying herself now?" Simon blows out a puff of smoke, as if he has heard the funniest joke in the world. "Mr. Lewinsky, do you really have no idea? Natalia died a long time ago. Her whole face was slashed to pieces, and even after three of her fingers were chopped off, she still refused to hand over the Lewinsky family's secret key. "Our leader threw her into the snowy mountains to feed the leopards." Matt stands up abruptly and punches Simon in the face. "Stop covering for her! She didn't hesitate when she scammed me back then. Tell me! Where did you hide the key? Where is Natalia now?" Simon spits out some blood and laughs. "You're so damn stupid. You still think Natalia betrayed you? Then, that poor woman died for nothing. Yes, she was one of us, but she never did anything to betray you. If revenge is what you want, you should go after your fiancée." Matt's pupils constrict sharply. "What do you mean…" Before he can finish speaking, his bodyguard pushes open the door. "Mr. Lewinsky, the police found a female corpse in the snowy mountains."

When I was 17 years old, I got hit in the head by a falling beam just to save Victoria Chandler, who was stuck in a blazing place. Since then, I become a dummy. In order to save up money for my physical therapy, Victoria gives up on pursuing her studies. Instead, she starts taking up all sorts of odd jobs and manual labor. Ten years have passed since then. Victoria is now the youngest businesswoman of Jeronich. Meanwhile, I'm still the dummy who still needs her to help tie my shoelaces and feed me. But later on, Victoria begins going home later at night. There's only disgust in her eyes when she looks at me. One day, I accidentally break the music box her assistant, Mike Tate, has gifted her. That's the first time she loses her temper at me and drags me all the way to the rooftop. Then, she orders me to jump off the 50-floor building. I have no idea why Victoria wants me to do this. All I know is that I'll get rewarded for being a good boy. Since young, I've been terrified of tall heights. But now, I'm even more terrified by the idea of Victoria abandoning me. With a smile on my face, I back away from Victoria slowly. "Please don't be mad at me, Vicky. I'll always obey your orders."

After being out of contact for a month, my wife finally remembered me. 'Mason's still one song short. Bring me that score of yours.' But this time, she never received a reply from me again. Mason tried to persuade her carefully. "Vega, forget it. Maybe I'm just not meant for this award. Don't fall out with Blaine because of me." Vega reassured him that I was only sulking. Then she went home, found my score, and handed it to Mason, thinking she could explain everything to me once I came back. But she never got the chance. I had been by her side the whole time—she just could not see me anymore.

The day they told me it was terminal, my girlfriend showed up in a wedding dress and got down on her knees beside my hospital bed to propose. She said, "Even if you've only got three months, I want to be your wife for those three months." The video did millions of views, and she became the most devoted girlfriend the internet had ever seen. But I knew I didn't have long, and I couldn't stand to drag her down with me. So I quietly stopped every drug keeping me alive and signed everything I owned over to her. I passed out from the pain most nights, my skin broke open and wept, and I swallowed all of it. All I wanted was for the rest of her life to be easy. Then, the night I signed the last of the transfer papers, half conscious, I heard my parents crying outside the room. "I know we wanted him to learn, but this drug is destroying him." My mother could barely get it out. She'd found the bloody tissues I'd hidden in my bedding too many times. And my fiancee, Vivienne Whitfield, said coldly, "If it doesn't hurt, he'll never agree to let Connor come home. "So we told him he had cancer and put him through chemo. Once Connor's back, the Whitfields can keep Gabriel for the rest of his life, even if he never walks again." Connor was the fake heir, the boy swapped for me all those years ago. My one condition for coming home had been that he leave. Off the antidote, my lungs kicked up another clot of blood. What none of them knew was simple. I didn't have much time left to keep playing this out with them.

"Mr. Reed, your request for euthanasia has been approved. The procedure is scheduled for next month. Please sign here to confirm." The staff member handed Ryan Reed a thick stack of papers. His fingers trembled over the page. After a few seconds, he slowly signed, his name scrawled as if it had taken all his strength.

An earthquake struck suddenly during our honeymoon. I suggested that we flee immediately. My husband’s former lover mocked me for being cowardly and paranoid. So, my husband dismissed my fears. I had no choice but to continue sightseeing with them. A fractured steel frame crashed down with an earsplitting clang and smashed into his former lover. She clung to me desperately as the rebars drove into my ribs one by one. Before I could cry out, my husband kicked me down when he saw his former lover in danger. “You wretch! If you hadn’t suggested this honeymoon spot, Lena wouldn’t have gotten hurt! “You knew there’d be an earthquake today. You did this on purpose!” The rebars pierced deeper into my ribs and made every breath I took excruciatingly painful. My husband pushed me aside, lifted his former lover into his arms, and stormed off without glancing back. “Before the aftershock hits, I’m taking Lena to the hospital! Then, I’ll call for rescue. “Stay here and reflect on your actions. This is your punishment for scheming against Lena!” I waited all night. He did not know that the torrential rains of the monsoon season had flooded the area. What awaited him was the bloated corpse of a pregnant woman.

On the day I get into an accident, Anthony Flint forces me to donate blood to his first love, Maisie Jones, even though I'm on the brink of death. He threatens me that if I dare reject him, he'll torture me till I die. Later on, I end up dying on the streets due to massive blood loss, just like Anthony wants me to. But he bawls his eyes out as he begs me to open my eyes and look at him again.

My husband's true love developed acute kidney failure, and I was the only matching donor. To save her life, he forced me to terminate my pregnancy at six months. Despite his gentle tone, he said the most heart-wrenching words, "Can't you be a little kinder? You're just losing a child, but she's losing her life." I resisted with every fiber of my being, but he threatened his own life to force my hand. On the operating table, both my child and I died. Meanwhile, his true love's transplant was a success, and she lived. Although the outcome was exactly what he wanted, he spiraled into madness upon hearing news of my death.

Three days after his first love Mandy's death, my husband locked me in a steel cage and sank me into the ocean. "You vicious woman," he spat. "Stay here and repent to Mandy!" He didn't know I carried his child. I thrust the pregnancy confirmation toward him, but he walked away without a backward glance. Yet when he later saw my corpse—bloated and decomposing in the seawater—he went insane.