เรื่องสั้นแนว Feel-Good Story Romance และนิยายในฉาก Countdown

I was two hours late the day we went to see the wedding apartment. By the time I rushed over, Serena Dupree had already signed the purchase agreement and was leaning her head against Ryan Hale's, deep in discussion about the renovation. They'd gone from debating a gaming room to a nursery, and now they were arguing over whether the master bathroom needed a bathtub. Nearby, a middle-aged couple watched with amused smiles and teased Ryan. "You two are clearly decorating a newlywed home, young man. In a marriage, the husband listens to the wife." Ryan coughed, awkward, and glanced at Serena, whose face had gone faintly pink. "Fine, fine, whatever she wants." I stood a little way off, watching Serena and Ryan go back and forth, settling every detail of my own future home between the two of them. The three of us had grown up together. When we were kids, they were the ones who decided which school I'd attend, then let me know afterward. When we grew older and Serena and I started dating, they were the ones who picked the restaurant for every date, the destination for every trip, and told me where we were going. This time, even the wedding apartment, apparently, all I had to do was wait for them to tell me. Over the years, I'd turned into the shadow of the two of them. A shadow doesn't get a voice. It just keeps its head down and follows along. But even a shadow gets tired. Even a shadow can stop dead on some overcast day and refuse to take one more step forward.

For ten years, I loved Silas Wolfe with everything I had. I followed him from the moment he rescued me from an orphanage at seventeen. I became his secretary, his confidante, his secret lover, and eventually, his hidden wife. Even when the Wolfe family mocked me for being a poor orphan unworthy of him, I endured it all because Silas always promised me the same thing. “Once Grandpa accepts you, I’ll make our marriage public.” I believed him until his first love returned. That was when I realized the horrifying truth. I was never the woman Silas loved. I was only a replacement for the woman who broke his heart. The night Silas forced me to abort our baby, he promised that afterward he would finally announce me as his wife. Less than twenty-four hours later, I woke up in the hospital and saw him publicly announcing his engagement to Evelyn instead. And while reporters mocked me as a pathetic woman clinging desperately to the Wolfe family, my own husband smiled coldly and said: “She misunderstood our relationship and became emotionally dependent.” But what Silas Wolfe doesn’t know is this: Two weeks ago, I discovered I was never an orphan. And in three days, my real family is coming to take me home.

I was the Whitmore family's dirty secret, an illegitimate daughter. Growing up without anyone to rely on, despised by everyone around me. The only lucky thing that ever happened to me was meeting Damian. When people talked about my birth, he stood up for me every single time. For years, he treated me with nothing but tenderness. He was the only light in my otherwise dark and hopeless life. Until someone accidentally pulled me into a voice chat room. Our mutual friends were excitedly discussing wedding arrangements. I was about to speak up, flushed with shyness. When Damian's best friend suddenly teased, "Aren't you worried Amelia will find out you're marrying Serena and crash the wedding? But don't worry, if she actually shows up, we'll lay down our lives to protect our boy's happiness." Then came Damian's voice, still gentle and smooth as ever. "She's not the kind you bring out in public. Fine to play around with on the side, but that's all she is." "At the end of the day, only someone with Serena's status as the legitimate Whitmore heiress deserves to stand by my side."

In our circle, everyone assumed that the rebellious bad boy, Dominic Ashford, was madly in love with me. A sworn bachelor, he made an exception just for me. But no one knew that on the night I miscarried, he was out street racing with his unforgettable first love, Vivian Lane. Only after losing his child did he truly transform from a boy into a man. Trading his leather jacket for a suit. Removing his ear studs and putting on glasses. Settling down to stay by my side and manage the business. I thought he had finally understood the meaning of "home." Until the day I was preparing his fifth anniversary gift and, on a whim, tried on those black-rimmed glasses he never took off. In the glow of the smart lenses, I watched my reflection in the mirror transform into Vivian Lane’s face. At that same moment, his computer screen lit up with a message from Vivian: “Dominic, she hasn’t been giving you trouble again, has she? The baby kicked me again today. When are you coming to see us?” In an instant, my blood ran cold. So for the past six months, the love I thought had finally come back to me was nothing more than Dominic looking at me through those AR glasses and seeing another woman. And his sudden devotion, his doting attention to my every need, was all just to keep me, the “stand-in,” content, so the woman he truly loved could carry his child in peace. This time, I didn’t beg with red-rimmed eyes the way I always had before. Instead, I calmly placed the glasses back where I found them and dug out the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago from the bottom of the closet.

Ten years into our secret relationship, Alex pulled out a ring at a yacht party. He leaned against the deck railing, his tone lazy. "Actually, I'm planning to propose tonight. " The crowd erupted instantly. Someone whistled, someone pounded on a table telling him to get down on one knee, and guessed who the mystery woman he'd kept hidden for ten years might be. I stood at the back of the crowd, so nervous my breathing came in ragged bursts. For ten years, Alex had never publicly acknowledged our relationship. During the hardest days of his startup, he said investors didn't like founders weighed down by romantic attachments. Then, once he became New York's most sought-after biotech rising star, the excuse became that the board and the media loved scrutinizing his personal life. Time after time, I believed he just wasn't ready yet. For him, I gave up a research position at Harvard, lost our child, and didn't even make it to my mother's bedside before she died. And now, he had finally pulled out a ring. Without even thinking, I reached for the pair of dark blue cufflinks in my pocket. I had spent three months of my savings to craft them as a tenth-anniversary gift. But he didn't stop in front of me. He brushed past me, walked up to Lillian, who had just returned to New York after ending her second marriage in Europe, and dropped to one knee. The deck fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted into even louder cheers. Alex slid the ring onto Lillian's finger, and smiled carelessly. "See? Told you she wouldn't dare make a scene even after seeing the ring. Ten years, and when has she ever really stood up to me?" Lillian looked past his shoulder at me, undisguised triumph gleaming in her eyes. So the proposal hadn't been spontaneous. They had bet on whether I would make a scene. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and turned to leave. So ten years really could be worth this little.

I agreed to leave the firm with Adrian Cross, my childhood friend, after he claimed he was being bullied out of his job. But the day before we were supposed to resign, he changed his mind for Mia Foster, a new intern. One of his colleagues laughed. “Impressive. You pretended to be bullied at work for months just to trick Evelyn into leaving.” “But you two grew up together. You’re really going to send her to a new firm alone?” Adrian rolled the bourbon around his glass. “She’ll still be working in the same city. How far away can she possibly go?” “Besides, isn’t she always saying she’s independent and the department can’t function without her? This works out perfectly.” I stood outside the office for a long time that day. In the end, I turned around and walked away. I withdrew my application from the firm we had planned to join together. Instead, I accepted the offer my parents had arranged for me at Bennett Global’s London headquarters. Everyone had forgotten one thing. Adrian was the one who begged me to stay.

After we'd had a fight, my childhood sweetheart, Adrian Hale, deliberately agreed to take a sophomore named Sienna Reed to Beach House Week on Cape Cod. He was certain I'd do what I always did: get jealous, start a fight, then swallow my pride and beg him to come home. But when he returned to Kingsley University with Sienna a week later, he found me unexpectedly easy to deal with. He gave Sienna my lead creator slot in the National Robotics Challenge. I didn't quit. I organized her test data and rewrote her presentation for her. He backed Sienna in the student council election and picked apart my work during the public debate. I didn't argue. I admitted I could have prepared better and calmly watched her take my seat. Then he tried to hand Professor Moretti's recommendation to her too. I still didn't lose my temper. I even delivered a neatly organized application checklist to Sienna myself. Smug with victory, she told him, "See? You can't keep spoiling a woman like Claire. Give her the cold shoulder, knock her down a peg, and she'll learn to behave." Adrian agreed. He told her she understood people better than anyone. Afterward, he came to see me alone. He promised he'd secure me a direct-entry PhD position at Kingsley and, in an astonishing show of generosity, said he'd propose in front of everyone at graduation. But Adrian had forgotten one small detail. While he was busy entertaining Sienna at Beach House Week, he'd personally approved my transfer to Zurich. I packed the commemorative pin, old records, and love letters he'd given me into a box and sent them back. The Hale family ring he'd planned to propose with would never touch my finger. I was headed for a much bigger world, and I wasn't coming back.

My husband sent me to prison on our third wedding anniversary. I thought Bryce Holloway was the love of my life. My high school sweetheart and husband. The man I had spent three years trying to build a family with. So when I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to surprise him. But instead of celebrating our anniversary, I was arrested for my father’s murder. “I didn’t kill my father!” The evidence said otherwise. And when Bryce finally came to the police station, I thought he would save me. Instead, he leaned closer and whispered, “Didn’t you say you wanted something unforgettable for our anniversary?” My heart shattered when he added, “Enjoy your life sentence.” He had framed me. While I was rotting in prison, he divorced me and married my stepsister, Daniella. “He should’ve chosen me from the beginning.” Daniella said. I thought my life was over. Then I discovered I wasn’t carrying one baby. I was carrying twins. And I made one decision… Bryce would never know they existed. But keeping my children a secret wasn’t enough. My stepmother wanted me dead, my inheritance was at risk, and the people who destroyed my life were determined to make sure I never walked out of prison. Until someone helped me disappear. My father’s attorney, Roman Ashford. Two years later, everyone believed Kaia Bennett was dead. But they were wrong. I returned to California under a new identity, with my twins by my side and one goal in mind. Taking back everything that belonged to me.

My husband, Colonel Ronan, swore to protect the wife and son of his fallen comrade. Everyone in Greyhaven admired his devotion. At home, our seven-year-old daughter learned to eat her birthday cake without him. Then her teacher sent home an assignment. [My father is dead. He died at Mara's house. Whenever she calls, he goes to her, and I have to wait until he remembers me.] Ronan came home demanding an explanation, with a birthday present tucked beneath his arm. Our daughter thanked him. "Good evening, Colonel." He wanted me to tell her to call him Dad. Instead, I answered the letter I had kept hidden in my desk. My father, the King of Northmere, had asked me to come home. He wanted me to return to the palace and take my place as the next Queen of Northmere. And Ivy would return with me—not as the daughter everyone had overlooked, but as a princess. In fifteen days, we would leave everything behind and go home to a family that had been waiting for us all along.