Feel-Good Story Romance Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

The night my girlfriend, Lesley Cohen—whom I've financially supported for years—officially announces her relationship with Archie Gould, the System determines that I have failed my mission and strips me of my "saint's heart". From that moment on, I stop caring about her future and focus entirely on my career, eventually landing a spot among the Fortune 500. However, once I withdraw all financial support, Lesley confronts me with tearful eyes. "You always said that loving someone means giving them everything they want or need without asking for anything in return!" I'm baffled. She is the one who finds my money filthy, so why is she suddenly being so calculating about it now?

I went to my son's birthday party and was stopped at the door. "I'm Lucas Caldwell's mother." The hotel manager looked me up and down with a smirk. "You? Mrs. Caldwell has been running around for days getting everything ready. She's inside greeting the VIP guests right now." My breath hitched. What other Mrs. Caldwell? I tried calling my husband, Nathan Caldwell, but he didn't pick up. My texts went unanswered. Guests arrived one after another, each shooting me bewildered looks. I swallowed my pride and begged the manager to bring Lucas out to get me. She came back a moment later, her face dripping with contempt. "Lucas says his mommy is right beside him." The blood drained from my face. "He said that himself?" She waved me off in disgust. "This is an exclusive event. Don't even think about sneaking in. Get lost!" I drove home in a fog and found an Instagram post from my younger sister, Sienna Pierce. My son had his arms around her. My husband leaned toward her, his head slightly tilted her way. The caption read: "Got the birthday boy's official stamp of approval, and every bit of work was worth it! Happy birthday, sweetheart!" So my place in this family had been taken long ago. I sent a text: "The product launch at the end of the month. I'll be there in person." It was time to put an end to all of this.

Nick lost a round of Truth or Dare. His punishment was to divorce me. Worried I might get lonely, he was even thoughtful enough to hand me another man. "Until we remarry, he can keep you company." Later, I found out Nick had lost on purpose because his childhood sweetheart, Selena Hart, had come back. He said he wanted to try again with her. If Selena truly didn't love him anymore, he'd remarry me. His friend asked him, "You're giving another man to her. Aren't you afraid Ella will cheat on you?" Nick only gave a faint smile. "Ella is obsessive about fidelity. She'd never touch anyone but me." Later, I kissed that man right in front of him. His eyes turned red as he demanded, "How could you fall in love with someone else?" I ran my hand over my eight-month belly, every word deliberate. "You're the one who put me in his bed. Don't you remember?"

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The dice roll decides the wedding gift, no? I'll play too."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found a hotel key card in my husband's pants pocket. A quick scan on my phone confirmed it: the city's best-known adults-only fantasy hotel. But we haven't had sex for three years. I clenched my fists, my heart aching, but I kept my temper. I silently slipped the key card back into his pocket. Then, using his phone, I sent out a group message: "It's my birthday tomorrow! The party's at the Velvet Ember Hotel, Room 520. Anyone who's late can't call themselves a friend!" The next day, my husband rushed into the room and started stripping. He came face-to-face with his entire office.

During our beach vacation, my wife, Carla Locke, lets her guy best friend, Alex Dugan, rub sunscreen all over her. "What have you been eating lately? Feels like you've gone up a cup size." The moment I see Alex's hand lingering on Carla's chest, the drink slips from my hand and shatters on the ground. Carla gets upset and tells me off for being so insecure. "We're just messing around. Why do you always overthink everything?" Alex shoots me a challenging look. "Don't be upset, Hubert. Carla and I are just friends. Sometimes, I wish I'd been born a woman. Then, people wouldn't keep misunderstanding our relationship." Carla leans into his embrace and shakes her head as she looks at me. "I wish you'd stop being so sensitive about this. Stop trying to ruin our friendship." However, Carla and Alex don't know that I'm from another world. After completing my mission in the previous world, the system rewards me with one wish. Since they insist they're just best friends, I'll be more than happy to grant his wish to become a woman.

I’m Chloe. Daughter of the richest man in the world. I spend money like water. To stop me from blowing his fortune, my dad put me on a strict allowance. But right before my engagement party, he made an exception. Handed me a black card. Told me to pick out my own wedding jewelry. I went straight to Manhattan. To the most exclusive, biggest rough diamond trading center in the US. Because real top-tier jewels? You don’t just buy them. You bid for them in blood. I spotted a flawless rough pink diamond. It had this faint, perfect glow. Just as I picked it up, smack! A hand slapped mine hard. It stung. I dropped the stone. "Don't touch what you can't afford. You break it, can you pay for it?" “Five hundred thousand. Wrap it up. Now.” I frowned and looked over. A woman in a designer evening gown was rubbing her hand with disgust, as if she’d touched something filthy. Before I could even speak, a staff member snatched the stone right from me. "Right away, Miss Mia! I'll wrap it up for you!" I actually laughed from sheer disbelief. “Excuse me? That's daylight robbery.” Mia folded her arms and looked me up and down with a sneer. “Robbery?” “I’m Liam Astor’s childhood sweetheart. He's the heir to Wall Street's biggest empire. Around here, whatever I want, I get.” “So who the hell do you think you are, calling that robbery?” Liam. At the familiar name, I raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t he the fiancé my father had forced on me? I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Liam. Your little childhood friend is trying to steal my wedding jewelry in public. Are you going to handle this?"

On the day I was supposed to marry the man I loved, I found him in bed with my best friend. Before I could expose their betrayal, they revealed a horrifying truth. My best friend had introduced us, planned our relationship, and spent years helping him gain my trust. Their goal was simple—marry me, steal my inheritance, and get rid of me. Then they left me bleeding on the floor to die. As darkness swallowed me, I swore that if I ever got a second chance, I would make them pay for everything they had done. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn back to one month before it all started. This time, I know every lie, I know every betrayal, and I know exactly who murdered me. Now it’s their turn to lose everything.

For three years, I gave up everything for Adrian Cole. Three years of believing my sacrifices would earn me a place in his heart. Instead, on the day I planned to surprise him, I walked into his office and watched him get down on one knee for another woman. In front of everyone, the man I sacrificed everything for called me a liar, a gold digger, and a burden he could no longer tolerate. Then he threw me out of his life without a second glance. Heartbroken and humiliated, I made a call I hadn’t made in three years. A call that would change everything. Because Adrian Cole never bothered to learn who I really was. And when the truth finally comes out, he’ll come crawling back to me. Too bad I’ll be busy kicking him back to the curb where he belongs.

My buddy, Jayden Jenkins, has come over to my place again to mooch a free meal. It is scorching hot outside, and I am sweating over the stove in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Jayden is lounging in the air-conditioned living room. After biting the tip off a strawberry, he pulls my wife, Willow Simpson, into his arms and casually pops the rest into her mouth. "Here, Willow. Help me finish it," he says with a wicked grin. "It's rare enough that this cheap bastard Caius finally buys strawberries. Now he'll complain that I wasted one if I don't finish it." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and glance toward the living room, just in time to see Willow swallow the half-eaten strawberry. The thing is, she is a serious germaphobe. We've been married for years, and even kissing me is something she rarely allows. I remember another sweltering evening. After playing basketball, I bought a Coke and offered her the half-finished cup. "Willow, you must be thirsty. Here, take a sip. It's nice and cold. It'll cool you down." She slapped the cup away and snapped, "Caius, do you have any idea how many kinds of bacteria are in saliva? Don't ever do something that disgusting again." On that crowded field, people stared at our exchange, some barely hiding their amusement. I froze, my hand still hovering near her forehead as I tried to wipe away her sweat. I knew I would never forget the humiliation I felt in that moment. But I told myself she was simply distant and hard to please. Again and again, I reminded myself not to be so sensitive and to respect her boundaries. Turns out, that wasn't the case. She can set aside her fear of germs. She just isn't willing to do it for me.

I was the famously sickly daughter of a great general. A cold breeze could make me cough blood. Unfortunately, I also had echopraxia, which made me compulsively imitative. Whatever I saw, I copied, and nobody could stop me. When I was three, one of my father's mistresses staged a hanging to win his attention. I thought it looked interesting, looped a sash around my own neck, and copied her. By the time a maid found me, my eyes had already rolled back. The physician forced three bowls of restorative down me through the night before he got me back. When I was five, my half sister threw herself on the floor screaming for candy. I copied her and stayed unconscious for seven whole days. My father even issued one iron rule throughout the Ashford estate: No crying. No tantrums. No dying in front of me. Then, at sixteen, an imperial decree married me to Crown Prince Adrian.

My boyfriend, Callum Fletcher, is bringing me to meet his parents, but the venue is picked out by his childhood friend, Sasha Mercer. Sasha arrives fashionably late to the local steakhouse, where she gives Callum a playful punch. "I just mentioned it on a whim yesterday, but you actually held the gathering here? Vivian might get upset, you know." Callum gives her a teasing glance as he wipes down her utensils. "Vivian wouldn't mind that. She's not like you. You've been petty since we were kids." Sasha's face turns red, and she retorts in a small voice, "Who are you calling petty?" Callum's mother, Brenda Hayes, simply smiles as she watches them banter. She eagerly nudges the basket of dinner rolls in Sasha's direction, urging her to eat something while we wait for dinner to be served. However, Callum stops her. "We're ordering the ribs. If she fills up on dinner rolls, she won't have room for the protein." I stare at the dinner rolls piled up on my plate. I remember how I've been politely declining Brenda's offer just now. I've glanced desperately at Callum for help, but he just gives me a goofy grin. As it turns out, he actually does know how to defuse the situation, but he only does it for Sasha. Callum and Sasha exchange glances and smile at each other. I know that smile all too well. Callum is my and Sasha's superior, and every time he throws me under the bus to shield Sasha from the heat, they'll share that exact same smile. This time, I've decided I won't be going to the branch office with them anymore. Instead, I'll stay at headquarters and take Callum's place.

The male lead I picked out, James Linden, doesn't love me anymore. He's broken away from the and has fallen in love with the secondary female lead, Yvette West. On the day of our wedding, he insists on making things official with her. "You've gone mad, James! We arranged your marriage to Mia with the Churchill family ages ago!" James' father, Jack Linden, yells angrily at him. He attempts to stop James, but the latter has already gotten carried away and is poised to escape alongside Yvette. I sigh as I listen to the system clamoring in my ears, informing me that the romance between the male and female leads has been ruined. "Then, let's just choose another male lead," I say tiredly, looking around until my gaze lands on a man with delicate features. "He'll do," I declare. James still thinks that as long as he breaks free from the main plot and loves Yvette boldly, he can turn her into the female lead. However, he doesn't know that I'm the one who decides who gets to be the male lead.

My husband, Benji Morrison, is a system guide from another world. His mission is to get me pregnant so that I can give birth to his successor. However, although I've already gotten pregnant seven times, I suffer a miscarriage each and every time. "Your uterus has been severely damaged due to the amount of times you've suffered a miscarriage," the doctor explains. I'm racked with guilt. I resign from my job and stay at home to focus on getting pregnant again. When I get pregnant for the eighth time, a comment appears before my eyes just as I'm about to share the good news with Benji. "She's so pitiful. She's nothing but a tool that the male lead is using to get together with his first love." "The vitamins are actually drugs that will trigger a miscarriage, but the female lead keeps thinking that she's the problem every time." "It's already the eighth time. If the male lead still doesn't return, he'll be stuck there forever." I freeze in place. Benji walks in while holding a glass of milk. He smiles at me warmly and says, "I've added some vitamins into the milk, Harper. Drink it while it's warm. It'll help you conceive." I reach out and take the glass of milk from him. My fingers are trembling slightly when I drain the entire glass in one breath. If Benji doesn't want to leave, he can stay here forever! My stomach begins to ache. I call one of the directors of my company, saying, "I want to take back Weller Group, Richard."

My roommate Sophie is a stunning beauty who is popular across the entire school and serves as its beloved cheerleading captain. So when my online boyfriend asks for another photo, she suddenly snatches my phone out of my hand. She puts on a worried expression, as if she is only thinking of me. “Are you sure you want to send one now? You’re almost two hundred pounds. I’m just afraid he won’t be able to handle it once he sees you.” Then she tilts her head and adds, “Why don’t you send him one of mine first? At least I won’t scare him off.” The girls beside us burst into laughter. “Two hundred pounds and you’re still dating online? Isn’t that basically catfishing?” “If he ever sees you in person, he’ll probably block you on the spot.” I lower my head and pinch the soft flesh around my waist, hesitating over whether I should send him my roommate’s photo instead. Then, out of nowhere, a line of translucent text flashes before my eyes. [Don’t send it! She already knows your online boyfriend is the heir to a fortune worth millions.] [Sophie is pretending to help you, but she’s the one who wants you to send her photo first.] [Once you two arrange to meet in person, she can easily take your place and steal your boyfriend.] I freeze for only a second. Then I snatch my phone back and pull up a photo from three years ago. “No need.” “After all, once I slim down, I’m much prettier than you.”

Tomorrow was supposed to be my engagement party with my fiance, Jason Miller. To surprise him, I flew back a day earlier after spending three long years studying abroad in London. The moment my plane landed, I called him. But he just laughed and casually dropped a bombshell. He had lost a high-stakes poker game, and he had just wagered me off to his friend as a free maid for a month. Before I could even speak, my phone lit up with a notification. He had added me to his wealthy inner-circle group chat. The title was vicious. [Congrats to Marcus on his new ugly maid!] Jason dropped a photo of me, from before I left the country, into the chat. In the picture, my skin was broken out, my hair was a wild mess, and I had severe buckteeth that made me look completely awkward. The group chat exploded. "Holy crap, Jason! You're brutal! She looks frightening!" "A bet's a bet, Marcus! You gotta bring the monster to the yacht party tomorrow!" Someone immediately set up a poll, betting cash on whether I would actually have the nerve to show up in a swimsuit. Jason instantly dropped ten grand on the poll, betting I would hide in embarrassment. "Sorry to ruin your eyes, bro," he texted the group. "Just think of her as a free circus act." I stared at the screen, a cold smile touching my lips. He never bothered to call me while I was away. He had no idea I spent the last three years in Europe undergoing three hundred thousand dollars' worth of top-tier facial reconstruction and styling. He had no idea that a single unedited photo of my face was now pulling hundreds of thousands of followers online. They wanted a show? Tomorrow on that yacht, I would give them one.

My boyfriend, Sean Conway, tells me he wants to get married and asks me to wear a wedding dress to the company's annual party. I think he's finally going to propose. So I show up in the most beautiful wedding gown I can find, bouquet in hand, and confess my love to him in front of the entire company. Suddenly, his sweet, innocent-looking secretary, Hannah Sloan, storms over and dumps an entire cup of coffee on me. "You shameless, ugly bitch! Just because you landed a nine-figure deal, you think you can steal my husband? You slut! Keep running your mouth, and I'll shut it for you!" Sean has always been a stickler for the rules, but instead of standing up for me, he accuses me of violating company policy and hands my project over to Hannah. Everyone looks at me with pity, waiting for me to make a scene. But instead of arguing or getting angry, I simply take off my employee badge and toss it to Hannah. "So you're the CEO's wife. My mistake. Consider my director position a wedding gift to you both." What Sean doesn't know is that Dad practically forced me to take on that nine-figure project in the first place. Now that I'm stepping down as project lead, Sean won't be able to move forward with the deal. And since he replaced the project lead at the last minute, his company will be in breach of contract. Bankruptcy will only be the beginning. He'll be left drowning in debt too.

When I found Silas Pembroke, he was carefully untangling a strand of another woman’s hair from his tie clip. The two of them were wrapped around each other, far too close to pretend otherwise. He let out a mocking laugh. “Jenna, what exactly are you going to accuse Sienna and me of this time?” Sienna Vale smiled sweetly. “Mrs. Pembroke, you stayed away longer than usual this time.” I steadied myself and said, “I’m not Jenna. I’m her twin sister, Summer Sinclair.” Silas burst out laughing. “What is this, your latest stunt?” Then his expression hardened. “Keep pushing me, and I can’t promise you’ll stay Mrs. Pembroke forever.” I only looked at him and said quietly, “Silas, my sister left three keepsakes behind for you.”

All 30,000 relief meals my company produced are deemed unsafe and destroyed in an incinerator. Jack Lumber, my husband and the deputy director of the city's Department of Health, is the one who orders them destroyed. The woman who reports my company is Shirley Watson, his childhood friend and a former investigative reporter. This is already the third time she has gone after my company. The first time, she reports one of my trucks for illegal parking, and Jack forces me to issue a public apology. The second time, she accuses me of violating packaging and labeling regulations. Jack immediately fines my company and orders us to suspend operations for a month. Every time, he takes her side and makes me pay the price. This time, a major disaster cuts off power and water in the region. I rush relief meals to the area overnight, but they block my trucks, claiming that my food is contaminated. I hold out the inspection certificates and plead with Jack. "People are waiting for these meals. If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility!" Jack waves me off. "Shirley is a reporter. She wouldn't make something like this up. Destroy all the meals immediately!" Two days later, the lab report confirms that every ingredient meets safety standards. However, it's too late. The relief meals have already been destroyed, and accusations that my company sent contaminated food to the disaster zone are spreading online. My company is facing a massive online boycott, and our biggest clients are canceling their contracts one after another. Jack looks at the lab report, uneasy but still arrogant. "Shirley made a mistake, but she meant well." Finding this ridiculous, I pull off my wedding ring and say, "I've given you three chances. Let's get a divorce."

Two weeks before my wedding to Wendy Sutton, she gets a marriage certificate with someone else. That day, a screenshot from an unfamiliar group chat suddenly pops up in our wedding-planning group. The group is named "No One Stays Young Forever". A photo of Wendy and her new husband, Shiloh Caddel, is posted. They are beaming as they hold up the marriage certificate they've just obtained. Her brother asks, "You made sure Morgan doesn't know, right? Don't let this affect the wedding plans." My best friend replies, "Don't worry, he's still waiting for Wendy to come back so she can try on her wedding makeup." Her best friend chimes in, "They're only registering the marriage to make up for a past regret. It's not like she's really going to replace the groom." Wendy says, "Keep it from Morgan until the wedding. I'll tell him after the ceremony." I feel the crushing weight of betrayal. The screenshot is quickly deleted. The wedding-planning group falls silent. Then, as if nothing had happened, Wendy's brother asks what style I want for the decorations. I calmly type my reply. "Those don't matter anymore. The wedding is off."