Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Bias Regret Novels

My fiancée, Rachel Evans, was in a car accident before our wedding and had just woken up when I rushed over to the hospital. The bridesmaids surrounded her. "Rachel, you're finally awake! Your fiancé, Nicholas Shaw, was so worried when he heard you were in a car accident that he cried!" said one of them. "Now the wedding will have to be postponed." "Who's Nicholas Shaw?" Rachel asked with a frown. "Where's my boyfriend? Where's Jordan?" A hush fell in the ward as soon as those words fell. My face was pale as I stood in the doorway, for I knew very well who she was referring to. She was talking about Jordan Baxter, her first love.

Three days before I got married, Evan Jones' claustrophobic ex-girlfriend cornered my car at the cliff of a winding road and rammed into me 12 times. When Evan arrived with the police, I was being rescued by the firefighters from my driver's seat, which had been smashed out of shape. However, Evan went to the limited-edition sports car, which had only lost some paint, and carried the trembling Nikki Shore in his arms. "Evan, Madison is bleeding on her forehead; she needs to get it stitched up at the hospital." However, Evan stopped my stretcher from getting into the car and glanced at my bleeding forehead and bruised arms. "These are just minor injuries, but Nikki has claustrophobia. Her condition will only get worse, and she has to go to the hospital first." As I was about to be left behind, I used the last of my strength to grab Evan by his pant leg. He frowned and pried off my fingers. "Nikki didn't crash into you on purpose. It's just her condition acting up. You're a lawyer, and you should know how some things are beyond our control, so stop making a fuss right now." With that, his assistant handed him a settlement agreement, and Evan grabbed my limp wrist to print my fingerprint on the papers. "Just bear with this. The ambulance will be coming soon."

Seven years into my marriage to Sebastian, we had our first child. On Logan's first birthday party, one of the old friends Sebastian had known since prep school rattled a little velvet cup of dice in Logan's face and laughed. "Come on, Mrs. Forsythe, humor us. Let the birthday boy roll. A game. For old times' sake." Logan giggled and slapped at the cup. "If he rolls a six," the groomsman went on, grinning sideways at Sebastian, "Sebastian goes and picks Serena up from the airport tonight. Deal?" The moment I heard her name, my blood went cold. I turned to Sebastian. He'd been keeping in touch with her behind my back. All this time. He caught my eyes. He covered my shaking fingers with his and frowned slightly. "Don't be jealous over nothing. We're all friends. It's just a ride from the airport." And then, without quite meaning to, he nodded. Permission given. Logan laughed and opened his little fist. The dice clattered across the linen. A six. "That's fate!" someone whooped. "Serena's flight lands in two hours. You'll make it!" The room erupted. Glasses up. Backs slapped. Sebastian surrounded. His face softened and he turned and went for the door. Watching his back disappear through that door, I didn't do what I used to do. This seven-year bet of mine — I had lost it, completely.

I was born with a weak heart. When I was nineteen, I got a heart transplant that allowed me to survive. Soon after, I met my wife-to-be, Vivian Cosby. Three years after we got married, I found a note in her phone that was not deleted. The date was marked as the day we met. The text simply read, [I found him. His name is Quinn Waverly. The heart is with him.] When I looked through the notes further, I saw a man’s photo, captioned with a name. [Randall] There was another line of text in her notes. It read, [Randall, through your heart in his chest, I will show you the world.] I finally understood. The first time we met, she had not been taken aback because it was love at first sight, it was simply shock. The tears she shed when she proposed were not because of me. In the night, she would always lay her head on my chest. However, she was not listening for my heartbeat, but his. Tonight, she came home very late. As usual, she held me tightly and buried her face in my chest. “Your heartbeat always makes me calm.” I did not open my eyes, nor did I ask about Randall. This was the first time I realized that one could hear a heart beat so loudly that it echoed, even through so many layers of skin and muscle.

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."

At a friends' gathering, we're all playing Truth or Dare. Since Austin Ramos has lost the round, he chooses the "Truth" option. "Elsa and I have a child together." I whip around to stare at him in disbelief, my body already frozen from the news. Everyone knows that Elsa is my dearest sister, whereas Austin is my newly-married husband. His tone is casual and calm. It's also coated in a slight hint of nonchalance. "I had too much to drink three years ago. Elsa looked super sexy in her skimpy clothes, and I couldn't hold myself back. I didn't think she'd get pregnant right away." He dips his head while chuckling softly. Soon, his words take on a different meaning. "Elsa is definitely sexier than a certain someone here, and she's definitely interesting in bed. On top of that, she's capable of making me a father, unlike a certain infertile woman here." I can only look at Elsa, whose cheeks are heavily flushed. She lowers her head and dares not look at me the whole time. Yesterday, Elsa had wished me happiness with red-rimmed eyes. She told me that she'd plan the grandest wedding for me. Austin puts down his glass before adding lightly, "There. I've said my piece." Almost immediately, everyone falls silent and turns to look at me.

It all started when my fiancée's adoptive brother, Afton Jackson, claimed I had used a dirty scalpel in his private parts enlargement surgery, and that had given him Syphilis. My fiancée, Mia Jackson, flew into a rage. She stomped on the hand I had used to perform surgery. Then, she stripped me naked, forced me into humiliating poses, and put me up for auction on the black market for free. [Second-hand. Free.] Her best friend tried to talk her out of it. "You and Ryan Hathaway are about to get married. Are you really going to destroy him like this?" Mia's voice was calm. "He operated on Afton so recklessly and made Afton break down after catching that disease. Afton almost jumped off a building, yet he still refuses to admit what he did. He doesn't deserve to be a doctor. I'm only trying to scare him. It's not like I'm really going to give him away and let him catch some filthy disease too." I stood in the doorway, my face pale. When our eyes met, she spoke as if every word were justified. "You made a mistake, so you deserve to suffer for just a little while. As long as you cure Afton and then apologize to him, you'll still be the fiancé I love most." I silently held back my tears and reposted the auction link to my feed. It was claimed in seconds with a single comment. [I'll take him.] But Mia's face darkened as she threw the wine glass to the floor.

I accidentally clicked on a viral post. [What’s one regret that you can’t get over in your life?] Everyone in the comments said things like not studying well or not purchasing a house when it was cheaper. I felt a little bored by it. I was about to scroll past when I accidentally came across a comment with the highest number of likes. The account had a profile picture that was very familiar to mine. [Five years ago, to elope with my first love, I faked my death to leave my husband. [And I used my husband’s research to help my first love kickstart his business. [Now, my first love is a billionaire, and my husband became a butcher.] Some people reprimanded her and her first love in the comment section. Others reminisced about their past. I scrolled to the end of the post and saw the latest reply. [I’m back in the city, and I’ve decided to meet him.]

The impoverished student I had sponsored, Jacob Murphy, had accumulated a massive gambling debt. When the debt collectors had kicked the door open, my childhood sweetheart, Renee Austin, had shoved me forward instead. Her voice was cold and distant. “He’s Jacob Murphy. Take him away.” In the darkness of an underground casino, they tore out my fingernails, then smashed my ribs one by one with an iron rod. When the searing pain arrived, I groveled on the floor like a dog. I was weeping and screaming, without a shred of dignity. Then, they “mercifully” gave me one chance to call for help. Clinging to the last sliver of hope, I called Renee. Her voice on the other end sounded very cruel. “If you hadn’t set him up, how would Jacob have ended up buried in gambling debt? Even if you die at their hands, you deserve it.” The dial tone after she hung up became the last sound in my world. Later, I really did die, just as she had said. However, there was not the slightest trace of a smile on Renee’s face. It was as if she had gone mad. Her eyes were bloodshot as she searched every underground gambling den in the city. ‘Renee, why were you crying for me?’ I wondered.

On Christmas Eve, our three-year-old daughter, Noelle Gilder, who has cancer, takes a turn for the worse. All she wants is for her mother, Ivana Lance, to dress as Santarina and bring her a gift. I frantically call Ivana, but she impatiently yells into the phone, saying, "Why are you calling me nonstop? I am helping Charles look for Bubbles! Do you really have to make a scene over this? If Bubbles is gone, Charles will be so heartbroken that he will not be able to sleep for days!" Bubbles? So she was looking for the dog of her first love, Charles Larsson! Suppressing my anger, I tell her that Noelle might not survive the night. She laughs disbelievingly, "Mr. Gilder, do not think for a second that I'm not aware that you've spoiled Noelle rotten! If she had not suddenly kicked Bubbles, he would not have run away. Make Noelle apologize to Charles tomorrow." After hanging up, I accompany Noelle as she spends her final Christmas Eve with tears in my eyes. The next day, Ivana publishes a post on Instagram, still looking for the dog. Meanwhile, my post is Noelle's obituary. Ten years of marriage melt away into nothingness like snow.

In my previous life, I became the “lucky groom” and married Juniper Green, a woman in a coma, in place of my younger brother, Sean Hale. However, what I never knew was that the person Juniper truly loved had always been Sean. For ten long years, every frown Sean made became another reason for Juniper to torment me. My blood became his medicine. My bone marrow became his backup supply. To her, my entire existence was nothing more than a life-extending cure for Sean. Juniper had often said to me, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way, Sean would’ve been my rightful husband long ago. Keeping him alive is the only purpose you have.” In the end, she signed the consent form for my bone marrow donation. Then, she watched coldly as my life was drained away. “Being able to save Sean’s life is your honor.” Then, I was reborn and returned to the very day I was supposed to marry into the Green family. This time, I decided to return that “honor” to my dear brother. However, before I could even speak, Sean suddenly stepped forward first. His face was pale as he clutched his chest weakly. “Mom, please don’t force it on William. I’m willing to marry into the Green family instead, because I’ve fallen in love with Juniper.

After his female assistant crashed her car into my sister, my CEO fiancé, the man who once adored me beyond reason, swore he would make her pay. However, instead of punishing her, he promoted her to my position at work. He claimed that the higher she climbed, the harder she would fall. He spent millions at an auction to buy her a bracelet and even bought her dog a luxury mansion as a kennel. Every time, he told me the same thing: it was all part of his revenge plan and that I needed to endure it a little longer. My sister suffered a brain hemorrhage caused by complications from the accident and urgently needed surgery. Desperate, I begged my fiancé to return the salary he had managed for me over the years. He agreed and told me to get his assistant's approval for the withdrawal. When I submitted the request, she rejected it for incomplete documentation. After I finally gathered everything she asked for, she smiled, said office hours were over, and told me to come back tomorrow. My sister died before tomorrow could come. Only then did my fiancé call to comfort me. “Tell Dolly to wait a few more days for her surgery. Everything I’m doing is to get revenge on Sylvia and avenge Dolly. During her celebration banquet the day after tomorrow, I’ll take back everything I gave her and ruin her completely. After that, we’ll get married. You and Dolly will finally be happy.” By then, I finally understood. His so-called revenge was nothing more than an excuse for the way he indulged and favored his assistant. When my sister died, whatever remained between us died with her.

My husband’s newly hired secretary had a terrible temper. Just because he casually picked a bite of food for me at the dinner table, she flew into a fit of rage and smashed every plate and bowl in the house. Then, she threatened to fake her death and deregister herself, saying she would disappear from my husband’s world forever. The moment he heard that, my husband panicked. He immediately abandoned me even though I was about to go into lung cancer surgery, and sped off on the highway, reenacting some over-the-top CEO drama of chase and pursuit. At three in the afternoon, the surgery was scheduled to begin. My husband called. His tone was apologetic. “As a boss, I have a responsibility to ensure the safety of my employees. “Once I find her and make sure she’s safe, I’ll definitely come to the hospital and accompany you for your surgery. I’ll even make it up to you with a wedding trip!” However, I no longer wanted to wait for him. “Julian, let’s get divorced.”

In the seventh year of my long-distance relationship with my girlfriend Quinn Summers, I quit my job without telling her and traveled more than six-hundred miles to Oceanton. I only wanted to surprise her and ask her to marry me. When the receptionist heard I was looking for Quinn, her expression slightly shifted. "Our CEO Ms. Summers is still in a meeting. Please wait a moment." I was surprised. Quinn had never told me she had been promoted. During our video call last week, she had even complained about how stressful work was and how far away a promotion felt. When I turned around, I heard the receptionist whispering to her coworker. "So… This is the guy Ms. Summers is keeping on the side? Seriously, he has some nerve, coming all the way to the company." "If Mr. Gomez finds out Ms. Summers is cheating during their marriage, this is going to be very bad." I was about to turn back and tell them they had the wrong person. Quinn was not married, and I was her real boyfriend of ten years. But before I could speak, a man in a black suit walked in from the revolving door. The receptionists immediately fell silent and greeted him with deep respect. "Mr. Gomez." The man was on the phone, his voice low and gentle. "Honey, I'm downstairs. You must come with me to your prenatal checkup today!" A clear female voice came through the phone, agonizingly sweet. "I know, honey. The meeting's almost over. Wait for me at the guest lounge." I had listened to that voice for seven years. I knew it far too well. It was my girlfriend, Quinn.

After being released from my three-year sentence, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

My husband kept making me see a psychiatrist. He said I had delusional disorder and kept imagining I was a corporate heiress. He once grabbed me by the throat and screamed that my parents had died in a car accident years ago. To cure my "illness" and stop him from worrying about me, I took my medication on time and tried to forget those "delusions". One day, I was handing out flyers on the street when a Rolls-Royce stopped in front of me. The driver respectfully opened the door. My father, who had only ever appeared in my "delusions", stepped out, pain written across his face. "The one million dollars I transfer to your account every month is supposed to let you see what life is like. Why are you out here putting yourself through this?" One million dollars? I could hear my ears ring. What exactly had my husband been hiding from me when he said he had spent all our savings treating my illness?

After the Sullivan Group went bankrupt, I abandoned everything and followed Jessica to Tylen City. It took her five years, but she eventually inherited her father's legacy and climbed back into the top three on the Forbes rankings. Yet, she never once brought up any word about marriage. That lasted until the night before the Day of the Dead. I woke up in the middle of the night and saw her lighting candles while facing the direction of Cinea. "Dad, Mom, forgive me. I couldn't visit you this year because of work, but please continue to protect Chris and bless us with happiness for the rest of our lives." When I heard this, warmth filled my heart. My health was on the frail end of the scale. In the past, she always returned on her own since she didn't want me to be exhausted over this. This year, I decided to make the trip on her behalf after seeing the longing hidden in her eyes. However, what I never expected was to see the name of her former fiancé beside her name on the gravestone. Moreover, his title was engraved as her husband. As I looked further down, I saw another name beneath theirs. It was a name that belonged to their three-year-old son. At that moment, I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning. Only then did I realize that it wasn't Christopher she was referring to when she said, "Chris." Instead, it was Christian.

When I'm having dinner at home, I find out that my childhood sweetheart, Drew Calloway, has given up on the opportunity to get promoted to the northern military camp for the sake of my cousin, Brynn Jeffries. "Brynn can only attend a local college because of her SAT results. It so happens that Mrs. Ward is in poor health as well. I've already filled in the details on your college form, Lena. We'll both stay here." My mom goes along with the flow. "That's right. I promised your uncle that I'd take good care of Brynn, so you must help me take care of her too. You should forget about Northgate University, seeing as it's useless to pursue an education there. When you marry Drew in the future, you'll be a military wife who stays in the military camp with him." Before I can say anything, Brynn's eyes well up with tears. She starts crying as though she's the one feeling aggrieved. "It's my fault for being useless. My parents are no longer around. Because of that, Lena can't attend her dream university. You should just leave me be. I'm fine staying here all by myself." As soon as Brynn starts crying, Drew and Mom fly into a state of panic and start comforting her. As for me, I rise to my feet and return to my room quietly. Thankfully, I'm able to change my desired institution back to Northgate University one second before the deadline. Honestly speaking, the reason I want to attend Northgate University isn't just so that I can be closer to Drew in terms of distance. I also wish to watch the heavy snowfall with him. If we walk together in the snow with snowflakes covering our heads, it symbolizes the possibility of us spending the rest of our lives together till we're old and gray. Well, it doesn't matter who's standing next to me when I watch the snowfall now. My only wish is that I must watch the snowfall no matter what.

My mother-in-law, Lillian Pierce, gets into a car accident and needs a liver transplant from my wife, Elena Prescott. However, she is busy playing a murder mystery game with her first love, Ethan Bennett. In my previous life, I forcibly drag her away from the game and bring her to the hospital for the liver transplant. No one could have foreseen the tragedy that would happen. During this time, Ethan crosses paths with a deranged serial killer and ends up dead in an alley. After his tragic end, Elena doesn't show any reaction to his passing—until the anniversary of his death. On that day, she locks me in the basement and slices the flesh off my body piece by piece. "If it weren't for you, Ethan would never have died. Go down there and apologize to him!" Her smile is sinister, a tell-tale sign of the madness that has consumed her. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day when Lillian gets into an accident. This time, I do not force Elena to do the liver transplant. She saves Ethan but loses her mother forever.

When my wife, Hazel Zimmerman, is diagnosed with a terminal disease, she insists on divorcing me just to set me free. I refuse to do so. Instead, I travel all over the world to seek doctors and treatment remedies in hopes of finding Hazel a cure. I keep going at it until I start vomiting blood from exhaustion. But as soon as I reach home, I overhear Hazel bragging to her best friend smugly. "Brandon, that idiot, actually thinks that I really have cancer! I just wanted to use this excuse to divorce him so I could go on a world trip with Nathan. "Once I've had my fun, I'll claim that I'm cured of my disease. Then, I'll remarry Brandon again." "Do you really think Brandon will believe your excuse?" the best friend asks. Hazel just sneers in disdain. "That idiot loves me so much that he can't live without me. Ever since he found out that I have cancer, he's been crying his eyes out. What can he tell, anyway?" When Hazel brings up divorce once again, I don't hesitate to accept it this time.