Cerita Pendek Bias Romance & Novel Regret

Seven years after my death, an engagement invitation from my ex-girlfriend arrives at my house. Back then, I had broken up with her in my lowest, most desperate days and married someone else. Now, she has reinvented herself as a rising powerhouse worth hundreds of billions, driven by revenge and eager to see me regret everything and beg for mercy. Unfortunately for her, I am not the one who shows up. She looks around in open contempt, convinced my absence means guilt, shame, and fear. When I finally appear, all she sees is an urn.

Before our marriage, Harry Parker, my husband, had known I was born with congenital insensitivity to pain and temperature. I couldn’t feel burns, cuts, or broken bones. Because of that, he had wrapped every sharp point in the house in soft foam padding, locked the water heater below 104°F, and insisted on standing beside me whenever I used a knife. He used to say, “If you can’t feel the pain, I’ll feel it for you.” That was until my cousin, Evelyn Lynch, moved in with us. She said, “Jane, you can’t rely on Harry forever. You have to train your natural sense of danger.” The first time, she pushed a bowl of steaming hot soup against my hand. The back of it blistered crimson, but she just turned to Harry and laughed, “See? If you don’t warn her, she won’t even know to dodge.” The second time, she splashed water across the bathroom tile. I took a hard fall and fractured my tailbone, yet Harry just held me in his arms, offering soft excuses: “Evelyn is only doing this for your own good.” The third time, she swapped my daily prescription medication for vitamins, claiming she wanted to see if my body could detect the anomaly on its own. I bled from my nose all through the night. When I woke up, the pillow was soaked through. Harry held my hand, his voice as quiet and gentle as it had always been: “Jane, I can’t protect you for the rest of your life. Evelyn’s methods might be extreme, but you really do need to learn to feel pain on your own.” I stared down at the fading burn scar on his wrist—the mark he had earned years ago when testing hot bathwater on my behalf. He knew better than anyone what pain felt like, and yet he was pretending not to see the wounds being inflicted on me. Over arguing at this point, I squeezed my medical report into my bag. I finally learned what pain felt like. And I learned never to rely on him again.

My name is Cedric Bainbridge. For six years, I've been hiding the fact that I'm married to Beatrice Thorne, the CEO. Despite everything, she won't allow our son to call her "Mom". Once again, his birthday slips her mind. Her thoughts are entirely consumed by her male secretary. I've had enough. I sign the divorce papers and walk away with our child for good. For the first time, Beatrice, who is always so calm, completely loses control. She storms into my office, demanding to know where I've gone. But this time, neither my son nor I will ever look back.

On the day I married Vera Barrymore, her precious first love got drugged and woke up missing a kidney. Vera disappeared for three days. When she came back, she brought Sebastian Cooper home with her, freshly diagnosed with depression. I swallowed my heartbreak and agreed to help her take care of him. I had to coax him to sleep every night and feed him one spoonful at a time. It wasn't until she asked me to give him one of our children that I finally snapped. That same night, Sebastian slipped me a fatal dose of sleeping pills. By the time Vera found me, I'd already stopped breathing. She held my body and sobbed, and still chose to cover for him. "This is what we owe him. If there's a next life, I swear I'll make it up to you." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Vera first asked if I'd agree to help her take care of Sebastian.

On my wedding day, my fiancé showed up with another woman, flashing a marriage license. He announced, "She's my true love. Don't even think about taking her place." My doting brother sided with her too. "You've had a cushy life for over 20 years. Let her have this." I left quietly. My brother and my fiancé breathed a sigh of relief. They paraded the new girl around town, my brother even calling her his adopted sister to boost her status. They didn't know I'd gone to the border until someone mentioned me. I was done with them, but they started to regret it.

When I asked building management to reset the smart lock on the condo we had bought for our marriage, the technician hesitated before asking: "Ms. Foster, are you sure you want every user deleted? Sophie Clarke has administrator access, while you're listed as a temporary guest." I smiled. "Delete them. Don't leave anyone." The night before, stomach pain had left me crouching outside the elevator, my hands shaking as I entered the code, but the lock kept flashing ACCESS DENIED. I called Marcus Reed, and he lowered his voice on the other end. "Stop messing with the lock. Sophie just fell asleep. Her nerves are fragile, and the alarm will scare her awake." Sweat covered my forehead from the pain. "This is my home." He was silent for two seconds before answering with reproach in his voice. "She's only staying for a few days. Besides, don't you have the code? Don't embarrass her over something this small." Only later did I learn what "temporary" really meant. Her fingerprint had been placed first on the access list. Meanwhile, I was the name on the deed, yet I had been locked outside without even being able to reach my stomach medicine. I stared at the entry in the smart lock's activity log. [Marcus Reed removed Natalie Foster's emergency access at 11:48 p.m.] I didn't call him again. I simply paid off the home improvement loan early and contacted a realtor to put the condo back on the market. I no longer wanted the home that in my name. And I no longer wanted him.

Six years after marrying Rhiannon Westley, she takes a lover. He's like a puppy—timid and clingy. He flinches at the slightest raised voice, so Rhiannon never loses her temper in front of him. But when he acts up in front of me, Rhiannon snaps. She's furious, and she gives him a harsh scolding. The next day, he sends me a photo of his neck covered in red marks. "Zane, Ms. Westley is so fierce..."

Growing up, I had four boys by my side. They were the Big Men on Campus—the four most untouchable guys at school—and my most loyal protectors. On the night of our eighteenth birthday graduation ceremony, they all applied to Stanford University in California at the same time and asked if I dared to give up Harvard and go with them. My answer, of course, was yes. After I received my Stanford acceptance letter, I accidentally saw their chat records. [Are you guys really going to stay in Boston for Chloe and trick Vivian into going to California alone? Aren't you afraid she'll get angry and leave you when she finds out the truth?] [She can't leave us. Even if she gets angry, we just have to coax her a little.] [She's been strong and independent since she was little. She can handle everything on her own in California.] [Chloe is different. She's insecure and sensitive, has no family, and needs our company and encouragement more.] [Besides, Claude promised to get engaged to Vivian and marry her after graduation. It's only four years apart. She can definitely wait.] They were certain I would never leave them. But they didn't know—I had accepted Stanford's overseas research project invitation and was about to leave for Switzerland. In three days, I would cut off all contact with them and leave this place forever.

Joanna Shaw saved me when I was lying by the road close to dying. Because of a serious injury to my head, I had lost all my memories. Joanna brought me home and took me in. However, she also made me sign a contract that had no expiry date. "Sign it. You'll be my bodyguard from now on and you'll take orders only from me." For the next five years, I stayed by her side and stopped countless assassination attempts on her life. I was her bodyguard by day, her lover by night. Everyone said the heiress had fallen for her bodyguard. But when she heard that Allen Clarke, the heir of the Clarke family in Oceanton, was going to marry her bitter rival Tina Jackson, she chose to destroy the contract. "Find a way to get close to Tina and make her fall in love with you. Consider it repayment for saving your life. Only after Allen gives up on her will he marry me willingly." I nodded and agreed, and I gave up on Joanna for good. She didn't know I had already recovered my memory. The "Allen Clarke" she was so desperate to marry was nothing but an impostor.

After suffering from a miscarriage, I've gotten rid of all the habits that my military husband, Nathan Linwood, despises. No longer do I ask him about his whereabouts. He can spend the night elsewhere for all I care. When I get hurt in a rescue mission, the doctor tells me to inform my family about my condition. I merely shake my head and say, "I don't have any family." But Nathan still arrives at the scene half an hour later. The tall and broad-shouldered man looks at me, his voice extremely cold. "Why didn't you seek me out when you got hurt?" I lower my gaze. "It's just a minor injury. There's no need to trouble you at all, Commander Linwood." For some reason, my nonchalant tone annoys Nathan. He's about to open his mouth when a conversation between the guards floats into our ears. "Commander Linwood sure is concerned about Ms. Schuman. When she twisted her ankle during a performance, Commander Linwood had a helicopter rerouted to the venue immediately. He even carried her into and out of the helicopter, refusing to let her feet touch the ground at all." Nathan's expression shifts into one of nervousness immediately. He glances at me from the corner of his eye, seemingly waiting for me to demand answers from him or kick up a fuss like usual. But my eyelashes barely flutter at the conversation. All I do is close my eyes and rest. Ten days later, I won't have anything to do with everything that's going on here.

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

My fiancee, Lucinda Walker, always says that she hates waiting more than anything else. If the elevator takes more than 30 seconds, she takes the stairs. If there are more than three people in line, she turns around and leaves. So, every time I want to take her to the dessert shop with an hour-long wait, she frowns. "The greatest waste of time is waiting." Tonight, the company is having a team dinner, and I have arrived at the hotel lobby early to wait for her. From a distance, I see her walk out of the banquet hall. Her assistant, Jace Stetson, is by her side. Jace says he wants to try the bar's signature cocktail, but more than a dozen people are lined up. I thought Lucinda would suggest going somewhere else, just as she always does with me, and leave. However, she glances at the line, takes off her coat, and drapes it over his arm. Then, she says, "Sit down somewhere. I'll wait." Jace laughs and says that isn't necessary, but Lucinda has already taken her place at the back of the line. I sit on the sofa in the lobby and watch her quietly wait for 20 minutes. When she finally returns to him with the drinks, she even leans closer to ask if he wants ice. Then, my phone vibrates. I get a message from her. "The dinner is over. I'm heading straight home. Don't wait for me." I look up. Nearby, Lucinda is smiling at Jace. I type "Okay." But then, I delete it. Instead, I send "I won't wait." This time, I really mean it.

My wife's nephew, Oliver, got kidnapped. The ransom was $500,000. Then my wife froze every card I had. I called her 999 times. Not one call went through. Oliver was tortured for three days. By the time they found him, he was covered in wounds. Dead. I pulled every favor I had and finally found Zara. In a hotel bed. With her so-called brother. "I'm wrecked about Poppy too, but she's gone. We can't bring her back. Holden needs heart surgery, and Poppy's a match. Send the body to the hospital." So Zara thought the kidnapped kid was our daughter. I was so pissed I laughed. Then I sent the body straight to the OR.

By the time Kenneth Ford finally showed up, I was already soaked through. He wasn't alone. There was a girl under his umbrella, and at well over six feet tall, Kenneth had enough height to shield her almost completely from the rain. He'd tilted the umbrella so far toward her that one side of his shirt was getting drenched, but he didn't seem to care. He just smiled and let her stay tucked safely beside him. Then he saw me, and the smile on his face disappeared. "Sorry, I'm late," he muttered. The girl beside him immediately turned to me. "Hannah, it's my fault. I've gotten so used to sharing Kenneth's umbrella that I asked him to walk me home. And honestly, being tucked up against him makes me feel so safe." "How many times have you done that it has become a habit?" I held back my question. Instead, I smiled, stepped under the umbrella behind them, and hurried to keep up. Rainwater dripped from my hair down the back of my neck, while Kenneth kept the umbrella tilted toward her the entire way. I had dinner with them, shared a drink, and spent the whole night listening to their laughter. After midnight, when Kenneth was finally fast asleep, I took the umbrella, opened it, snapped a picture, and sent it to Berta Neal. [Since you like it so much, stay tucked against him for the rest of your life.]

When I get married to Zachary Lennor, I know that he has a younger, depressed sister who's a huge pain in the ass. On our wedding night, she suddenly barges into our room with the excuse that she's terrified of the dark. That's why she wants Zachary to sleep with her. When I get hospitalized due to my illness and need Zachary to take care of me, his sister insists that he go home to eat all three meals with her every day. Otherwise, she'll go on a hunger strike. Even when Zachary and I are on a date, his sister will call him immediately, claiming that her depression is acting up. If he doesn't go home right away, she will jump off a building without hesitation. Unable to take it anymore, I unleash my anger on Zachary's sister. But Zachary is quick to shield her from my ire. With an icy expression, he tells me, "I only have one sister, whereas I can always get myself another wife. If you can't stomach her presence at all, we'll get a divorce right now." I keep tossing and turning in bed at night, unable to sleep at all. That's when I decide to get out of bed just so I can apologize to Zachary and his sister. As soon as I walk to the doorway, I hear a familiar voice whining from the master suite, where Zachary stays. "Zach, since Samantha got so mad at me today, does this mean she's found out that I'm not your actual sister at all, but your ex-wife?" Zachary pauses momentarily before saying reassuringly, "Even if she does, it's fine. Although I do love her, I've already vowed to stay with you forever the day I married you. "So, even though we're already divorced, I will still keep my word. I won't let you go." At that moment, I finally realize that Zachary's so-called younger sister is just a fake identity. Her depression is also a big fat lie. I'm the only one who's been kept in the dark about everything in this performance. In that case, I'm not going to humor these jerks anymore.

I went through surgery at the hospital 99 times because of my boyfriend's fetish. He promised to marry me after the 100th round. I was filled with joy when the final procedure was finished. This was our 100th round of intimacy, and I wanted to give Chad Simmons an unforgettable night. I quietly pushed open the doors of our villa. I heard laughter coming from inside the house and my name being mentioned. It made me pause in my step. "You've got the most high-end social butterfly of the upper social circle wrapped around your little finger, Chad. She's really stupid enough to believe that you'll marry her. "Will she go mad when she finds out that she isn't your bride half a month from now? Will she get her old lovers to destroy your company?" Chad took a puff of his cigarette and said with a smile, "She would never dare to do something like that. I have videos of her sleeping with 99 men. If she does anything to me, I'll post those videos online and make her famous." "You're incredible, Chad! She probably has no idea that she slept with a bunch of old men instead of you!" Everyone started heaping praises on how impressive Chad was. I was stunned. No wonder Chad fed me a glass of milk every time before we slept together. It was to keep me from resisting. I tore up my surgery report and turned to leave. Since I was not his bride, I would make his wishes come true and marry someone else.

Three years ago, I suffered severe complications during childbirth and lost our baby, leaving my husband crying outside the delivery room. For three years, Carter Reynolds doted on me with boundless devotion. Yet the progress bar for my Childbearing System remained stuck at 99 percent, leading me to believe I would never complete my mission. On the third anniversary of our baby's death, I went to the cemetery and later decided on a whim to take a walk along the beach to clear my head. That was when a little boy suddenly ran right into my legs. "Hey buddy, where are your parents?" I asked softly. He scrambled up, shoved my hand away, and took off running. I followed him, but the moment I saw the scene ahead, the blood in my veins ran stone cold. In the shade of a palm tree, Carter lounged on a sunbed, smiling warmly as he caught the little boy who threw himself into his arms. "Daddy!" And the woman the little boy giggled at and called "Mommy" was my best friend. Beside her, my parents were entertaining the child with coconut water. "Come here, Leo. Let me hold you," said my mother. My dad took a sip of coconut water and let out a sigh. "Audrey must have gone to the cemetery again today. Ah, if she only knew that Leo is actually..." "Dad!" Carter interrupted, quickly clapping his hands over Leo's ears. "Audrey owes Vanessa this child." I dug my fingernails into my palms, blinking in disbelief. Suddenly, the cold, mechanical voice of the system resounded in my mind for the first time in years. "Detection confirmed: this is indeed the child you gave birth to three years ago. Your mission is complete. Would you like to exit this world?"

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.”

Andy Bennett had been my husband for ten years. And yeah, we were stupid in love. Lately, though, he'd gotten weirdly obsessed with some game on his phone. Every night, it buzzed nonstop. "It's new. The vibration setting is insanely relaxing." I bought it. I even got him blue-light glasses and wrist supports because he worked crazy hours and was always stressed. If a game helped him chill, fine by me. Then one night, he left his phone on the counter while he showered. It buzzed again. The screen lit up. No game. It was an app for a sex toy. A giant control wheel sat in the middle. [Remote Control] [Couple Mode] [Synchronized Vibration] Then a request popped up. [Invited by: Eunice Seaton.] My daughter's piano teacher.

I have a terrible sense of direction. Despite having lived in Gaturnia for five years, I'm still unable to find my way around. Winona Sinclair is always helping me set up my navigation beforehand and vows to lead the way for me for the rest of our lives. On the day of our wedding ceremony, we are going up Mt. Harlow when she suddenly says that she left the rings in the trunk of the car. I'm barely a step out of the car when the lock engages with a click. Then, I notice the driver glance at Winona through the rearview mirror, as though he received the orders ahead of time. In the next second, the car speeds into the thick fog, swiftly vanishing from my sight. Subsequently, Winona sends me a voice message. "Go 999 steps forward, and you'll arrive at a fork in the road. George says that you won't even be able to find the wedding venue without me with you, but I don't believe that. Simon, don't make me lose this bet." George Yangley is Winona's ex-boyfriend. I had a new pair of leather shoes custom-made for this occasion, so they chafe at my feet as I walk. By the time I reach two thousand steps, I realize that I'm completely lost. Only then do I call Winona's phone. However, it's George who answers it. "You know how directionally challenged he is, yet you still had him walk here himself. What are you going to do if he ends up wandering the mountain for hours and can't make it in time for the wedding?" Winona replies casually, "Then we start the ceremony first, and you can stand in for him for the photos and toasts. He's bound to find his way here eventually." Just then, a photo pops up in the group chat we set up for the wedding. George is standing beside Winona, carrying the box holding our rings in his hands—the box she lied to me about being in the trunk of the car. As it turns out, those 999 steps are simply paving the way for him. Taking off my leather shoes, I toss them over the side of the mountain. It is time for me to change directions on this path I'm walking.