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

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

My husband, Tyler Stone, has been dead for seven years. One day, he suddenly comes back to life. Not only does he bring another woman home with him, but he even wants me to give up my position as his wife. "Ruth almost lost her eyes saving me, and I've promised to marry her. Sign the divorce agreement, and I won't kick you out of the house." I'm briefly silent before saying, "I've actually married someone else." He rolls his eyes. "As if. Everyone knows you're desperately in love with me!"

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.

To temper my attitude, Frederick Burke throws me into the mountains. What he doesn't know is that this mountain lies deep within a high-radiation zone. Five months later, he finally shows up with a group of people to bring me back. However, my body is already starting to rot from the radiation. "Anastasia, if you hadn't pushed Colette down the stairs, I wouldn't have punished you like this. I wouldn't have left you to rot on this godforsaken mountain. Do you admit your mistake now?" I kneel on the ground and prostrate myself before Colette Reeves. Frederick freezes and instinctively reaches out to help me up. "Alright, there's no need for this…" I say nothing. I just quietly watch as he grabs my arm. Unbeknownst to him, my body is already soaked in radiation after months in this mountain. Anyone who touches me will slowly begin to rot, too...

I was six months pregnant when my husband, Michael Greene, shoved me off the edge of a yacht during a birthday party. Why? Because Lily Clement, his childhood sweetheart, had fallen into the water, and apparently, the yacht was too small for all three of us. After being pulled from the ocean, suffering from hypothermia and shock, I was taken to the hospital. Doctors determined that emergency surgery was necessary and required a family member's consent. However, no matter how many times they called, Michael never picked up. At the same time, lying in a hospital bed, I scrolled through Lily’s Instagram and saw the post she shared just hours earlier. It was a photo of the two of them, soaked but clinging to each other like lovers out of a movie. "Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected places. Thank you for always being there for me—quietly, selflessly, unshakably." That was all I needed. The day I was discharged, I left Michael a signed divorce agreement. If he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, I’d let him.

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

When my father succumbed to a brutal illness, my world shattered. The day before his funeral, my fiancé abandoned me to marry his first love, which added to my grief. When I confronted him, his irritation was palpable. "Megan's dad is dying of cancer," he snapped. "His last wish is to see her get married. I did something good. Can't you see it?" That night, I called him, desperate for answers, only to hear that woman's smug voice. "Blake is in the shower. Can I help you?" I hung up without a word, my heart sinking. Later, he called back, exhausted and dismissive. "I'm swamped with wedding plans. Don't bother me with irrelevant things, okay?" Silence was my only response. I tossed the engagement ring into the trash and canceled our wedding plans, severing the ties that bound us.

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

On our eighth anniversary, Claire Young announced that she had already registered her marriage with her childhood friend. She took him home, ordering me around as if it was only natural. "Move to another room. Stan loves sunshine." "Stan doesn't like sweets, so don't bake any when you're at home. He'd be upset if he saw it." I kept quiet through it all and bought a ticket to leave. My friend wanted to help me out of the predicament, but she didn't think it was a big deal. "He's just being dramatic again. Let him be—he'd be caving in just a few days." Everyone laughed at that, and quietly made bets as to when I'd come crawling back to Claire's feet. None of them knew I was already inducted into the national weapons program, and that I was really leaving.

The mother of Mr. Burr, the hospital director, was critically ill and needed emergency surgery. My wife, wanting to help her beloved crush, Cedric Grey, take the spotlight, deliberately kept the surgery time from me. By the time I finally arrived—late, Mr. Burr stopped me from entering the operating room and scolded me harshly for being unprofessional and unethical. Once I realized what my wife was doing, I handed the lead surgeon position over to her beloved crush. “Well, since you're so eager to shine,” I said coldly, “you’d better not screw it up.” The nurses tried to talk me out of it. They said I was being impulsive, that this was a rare chance to prove myself. However, none of them knew that I was the only doctor in the entire country capable of performing this rare and complex heart valve surgery. Even if Cedric managed to buy time with some miracle drug and made it look like the patient was improving, without my diagnosis and surgical skills, the operation was doomed to fail. And when that happens, he’d be held responsible. As for my wife, her blind favoritism would come back to haunt her.

Rosalie Lardner has 19 chances to get Brandon Searle into bed. Succeed just once, and she wins. Fail all 19, and she loses the title of "Mrs. Searle" for good. This is the bet she made with Brandon's stepmother—a deal she signed with complete confidence. But unfortunately, she fails every single time. Eighteen attempts, 18 failures. Now, it all comes down to the 19th try.

In her past life, Dylan Xander was forced to marry Zoe Stone. On their wedding day, his first love died in a plane crash. After the wedding, Dylan fell into a deep depression and grew to despise Zoe. For seven long years, she humbled herself just to win a sliver of his affection. But all she ever got in return was the same cruel question, over and over again: “Why wasn’t it you who died instead?” And yet, when the tsunami struck, Dylan gave up his only chance of survival to save her. On the lifeboat, she desperately reached out to grab his hand but he pulled away with all his strength. As he sank into the dark depths of the sea, he smiled in relief. “I’m finally free. I can be with her now.” After his death, the entire Xander family turned their hatred toward Zoe. Consumed by grief and guilt, she took her own life by jumping into the ocean. But when she opened her eyes again, she had returned to seven years ago. This time, she would cut the toxic bond between them and let him be with his true love.

To help Adrian Spencer get over his feelings for his cousin, his mother made a deal—with Zoey Landon, the girl who had been secretly in love with him for years. They signed a contract. It gave Zoey ninety-nine chances. If even once—just once—Adrian chose her, she’d get what she wanted: to become his wife. But if he never did, she’d be sent overseas for good. No return. No exceptions. Zoey knew how hopelessly obsessed Adrian was with Claire Spencer. Still, she signed without hesitation. Ninety-nine chances. She refused to believe he wouldn’t choose her—not even once. But what she didn’t see coming was…

In the fifth year of our bland marriage, I receive a message that my husband has booked a hotel room with a woman. Within the next second, seductive pictures of me show up in the work group chat. In the pictures, I seduced my husband but failed. My colleagues in the group chat mock me by saying, "She gave Mr. Reed an ultimatum and forced him to marry her. He was forced to break up with the woman he loves." "Mr. Reed put up with her for five years. It only makes sense that he could no longer resist and decide to reunite with his lover." My sick father dies out of shock, yet my husband does not show up to his funeral. That night, I inform Belinda that I wish to divorce her son. "Back then, you told me that I'm Caleb's blessing in life. You said that he'd have endless success if we were to marry. "As long as I married Caleb for five years, you promised to pay for my father's medical fees. Now that the time is up, you should let me go too."

The day Henry decided to marry my best friend, I turned into a joke in everyone’s eyes. He lifted my chin and stared into my eyes bewitchingly. “If you admit your fault, I can overlook your mistakes and start over again with you.” I obeyed and uttered the words, “I was wrong.” And yet, with mocking eyes, he sneered, “I can’t believe you’re this cheap, Julia.”

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

The pills I keep by my bedside have been swapped with vitamins. I almost die after getting a heart attack. After the stent surgery, I ask my husband, Evan Whitmore, to find out who did it. I just want the truth. However, he doesn't even look up and just brushes me off. "It was just a mistake. Cecilia probably grabbed the wrong bottle. She bought those vitamins for me. "Don't push this. She has asthma. She can't handle stress." I stare at him in shock, my chest tightening. I can't tell if the pain is from my healing heart or from the words he just threw at me. Cecilia Monroe is his secretary, and he always takes her side. That moment is when I realize that our five years of marriage mean nothing to him at all.

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.

I've been married for eight years, but my husband won't let our daughter call him "Dad" because his childhood sweetheart's son struggles with severe depression. After he missed our daughter's parent-teacher meeting again because he was with Susan Lawson and her son, I decided to leave. I prepare the divorce papers and decide to leave with my daughter. I go to her school and find her homeroom teacher, Laura Anderson. "Ms. Anderson, I'd like to apply for a school transfer." She looks surprised. "Why the sudden decision to transfer?" I reply calmly, "Her dad has been working out of town, but he's finally settled down and wants us to move there." Laura sighs. "Well, that's not bad. I always thought you were a single mom." I smile. I'm not, for now. But I'll be one very soon.

I fell for my next-door neighbor, James Grayson. I even tried to seduce him in a sexy nightdress. But he humiliated me by throwing me out in front of everyone. I was utterly embarrassed. The next day, he told me straight up that he was getting engaged, and I should just give up. So, I did. I let him go and said yes to someone else’s proposal. But on my wedding day, James showed up looking like a mess and tried to stop the wedding. “Summer, I regret everything.” But by then, my heart already belonged to my husband.