Tragic Love Romance 단편 소설 & Face Slapping 소설

I'm the daughter of the richest man in the world, constantly surrounded by countless exceptional men. Yet I fall in love with Lance Hartley, a man who has nothing. I hide my identity and pursue him, staying by his side for six years and helping him become the company's chairman. Everyone knows I'm his girlfriend and assumes I'll be the one he marries. But he abandons me and proposes to Ella Monroe, the famous movie star. The man who once swore to love me for all eternity kneels and publicly declares his feelings for her, vowing he won't marry anyone but her in this lifetime. Puzzled, my dad confronts him and demands an explanation. "Your girlfriend is clearly Lisa. Why would you marry someone else?" Lance's expression turns cold and disdainful. "She's just some poor woman with no family, no connections, no influence. Sure, she stuck by me through the hard times, but she's not wife material. Besides, she's not even in Ella's league. Why would I settle for her?" Hiding behind the door, I feel my heart shatter. In that moment, I finally understand that I'm someone he can discard at any time. I look at my heartbroken dad and smile bitterly. "Dad, I lost." I accept the arranged marriage Dad sets up for me. But just as I'm about to marry someone else, Lance kneels before me, full of regret and remorse. "Lis, I was wrong. Please don't marry him."

In the fifth year of my marriage to Raymond Lowe, Lilian Smith, the woman he had never been able to forget, returned. From that moment on, cracks began to form in our marriage. Raymond started breaking his promises. The first time was the day I won a major design award. He had promised to take me out and celebrate. Instead, a single phone call from Lilian was enough to make him leave. The second time was on my birthday. The candles had been lit, and I had not even made a wish yet when Lilian called. Once again, he walked out without hesitation. The third time was Valentine's Day. I sat alone in the private dining room I had reserved, waiting for Raymond for four hours. He never showed up. Later that night, I saw Lilian's post on social media. Raymond was with her, standing on a bridge beneath the stars. The fourth time was our wedding anniversary. That was the night I became the laughingstock of Liberty City. The humiliation was so public that there was not a single person in the city who did not know about it. I sat alone in a nursing home that evening when a message from Lilian appeared on my phone. After reading it, I walked into the operating room without looking back and terminated the pregnancy. In that moment, I also took back the love I had once given Raymond. Raymond, it was only because I loved you that you were able to hurt me again and again. However, the moment I stopped loving you, you became nothing to me.

While shopping for our wedding jewelry, my fiance, Xavier Shepherd, buys two pieces so that my sister, Abigail Young, can get the first pick, as always. One is a pink diamond necklace that he tracks down across three cities before winning at auction for a fortune. The other is a cheap black brooch that comes free with the necklace. It doesn't even go with my wedding dress. For the first time, I point to the necklace before my sister can. "Can I choose first this time?" Xavier ruffles my hair. "Abigail has always liked being first. If she can't have what she wants, she'd rather have nothing at all," he says. "You're not picky. Whatever's left will do." I say nothing. An empty feeling settles in my chest. I've known Xavier for 20 years. Whenever I'm with him, I'm always the one who gets my sister's leftovers. Whenever he cuts up a watermelon in the summer, he would always serve Abigail the first slice. She would always choose the reddest, seedless piece from the center. Then, he would hand me the slice closest to the rind that's ridden with seeds. "This one's ripe too. It's not as sweet, but it'll do." When he buys a new car, Abigail gets the first pick again. She takes the front passenger seat because it's the least likely to make her carsick. Xavier gestures toward the back. "It's a little cramped back there, but either seat is yours." Later on, I realize that his love is no different. He loves Abigail, but she chooses her academic career and dreams over him. With her gone, he switches sights and confesses to me instead. To him, I have always been the second choice. I stare at the black brooch and push it away. "You can have them both, Abigail. I don't want it either." I'm done settling for her hand-me-downs.

For five years, I was married to Joshua Grayson. He was known as the gentleman of the tech industry and was never arrogant. In fact, he was always cool and collected. A shame we never had any children of our own. I asked every single doctor I could get my hands on, but nothing helped. For that, I kept beating myself up. Joshua told me that it was fine if we had no children, and that what mattered was that our souls were perfect for each other. We did not need any children to secure our bonds. I believed him. And then I found an unsealed box of Plan B in a secret space in his study. It looked exactly the same as the vitamin tablets he fed me all the time. A phone sat under the box. The screen was a photo of him with his top secretary, Yvonne Wellington. It was a family of three. Then, a message popped up on the screen. 'Our girl's born, Joshua! Haven't thought of her full name yet, so we'll call her Cece for now.' 'Oh, right, you fed your wife contraceptives for five years. Now that we have a perfect family, you should kick her out and make me your wife instead. When's that going to happen?' The message hit me like a lightning bolt that came out of nowhere. To think I wasted five years beating myself up for never getting a baby. To think I looked forward to one. And now, everything was crumbling around me.

On the day of my wedding, I waited on the stage for six long hours with the wedding ring in my hand. The bride never came. Instead, I was greeted with the sight of my older sister's bloodied corpse. To make things worse, my wife, Winona Graham, was the one who defended the murderer in the court. I demanded answers from Winona like a madman, only to be locked up in an oven that was toggled to 200 degrees Fahrenheit by her. "Are you done, Arthur? It's Annabelle's own fault that she died in the first place! This has nothing to do with Hudson at all! He has just started his life as a young adult, and I won't let you ruin his life! "Just sit here and reflect on yourself! The moment you decide to sign the Letter of Understanding is the moment I'll get someone here to free you from the oven!" After that, I was trapped in the oven for 12 hours, resulting in my death from getting burned alive. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Winona throws the Letter of Understanding in my face.

There are two things Sienna Crawford can't shake off. One is her Malamute. The other is me. But I still won her favor by being her simp. The day before our wedding, she was hospitalized after a reckless drive for her first love. I rush to the hospital in a panic, only to find that the scar that should be on her chest is missing. My face goes pale, and I ask, "Where is the scar from her heart surgery?" "Don't jinx my daughter! She's never had such a dreadful surgery!" Just like that, I realize I've been in love with the wrong person for the past three years. On the day Sienna is discharged from the hospital, she calls off our wedding for the sake of her first love. Everyone is eager to see me make a fool of myself, expecting me to lose my mind. Instead, I calmly reply, "Fine." Little do they know that I have never loved her. The person I loved died many years ago.

As a future son-in-law, I spent $30,000 to host a Thanksgiving dinner for my fiancee’s family. I was just raising my glass, about to propose a toast. But my fiancée Tiffany Spencer’s childhood friend, Howard Hall, beat me to it. He stood up and said to my father-in-law, Dan Spencer. “Mr. Spencer, thank you for letting Tiffany give me a son.” I froze. Feeling touched, Dan said to Howard. “You’re a grateful young man. Since you and Tiffany grew up together, it’s only right that she’d have a child with you.” Everyone present nodded in agreement. No one thought there was anything wrong. Tiffany eventually noticed me standing off to the side. She offered an explanation. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Howard has no intention of ever getting married. He’d be lonely in his old age without a child. I just did him a favor. “You already have me. Whether we have children or not, it makes no difference.” Dan shot me a stern look. “This is a Thanksgiving dinner. If anyone dares to cause trouble today, get out.” Howard smiled. “Don’t be so glum, all of you. Brendon has always been generous. He certainly wouldn’t hold a petty little thing like this against anyone.” He walked over to me and raised his glass. “If Tiffany and I were really together, you wouldn’t have stood a chance to marry her. “From now on, you’ll be this child’s godfather. The three of us will raise this child together.” I did not take the glass from Howard’s hand. Then, I glanced at Tiffany again. She motioned for me not to make a scene. A lump formed in my throat. For a moment, I felt utterly resigned. I sent a message to my professor, who wanted me to be his son-in-law. [Prof. Wilson, does your daughter know about my situation?] Alfred Wilson, who was also my academic advisor, replied instantly. [She does. As long as you’re willing, the marriage is a done deal.] I replied, [Prof. Wilson, I’m willing.]

After pursuing Yves Chapman for five years, he finally agrees to marry me. Two months before the wedding, I get into an accident. I call him thrice, but he rejects my call each time. It's only because Clarisse Tatcher advises him to give me the cold shoulder for a while to stop me from pestering him. When I crawl out of that valley, I'm covered in injuries. My right hand has a comminuted fracture. At that moment, I finally understand that certain things can't be forced. But after that, he starts to wait outside my door, his eyes red as he asks me to also give him five years.

In the fifth year of their marriage, Layla Turner insisted Jules Fanon take on Roland Presley as his assistant. “His name is Roland Presley. He’s young and hot-tempered. Be patient with him and help him out if there’s anything he doesn’t know.” During that first meeting, Jules hardly suspected that this young man would eventually turn out to pose a grave threat to him. Three months later, Jules stood outside the house and watched his wife of five years, Layla, cheating on him with another man. This other man was none other than Roland himself, the assistant whom Layla had insisted on assigning to him. Jules waited downstairs for Layla to explain, and when she finally did, she remarked nonchalantly, "We're just having fun. Look, the boy is upset about being the other man, so how about this? We can get divorced for now and remarry three months later." Jules agreed without hesitation. "Sure." However, in Jules’ vocabulary, there was no room for remarriage! Since Layla wanted to be with someone else, then so be it!

I am Carlton Helfer, the most useless alchemy student in Crucible. Whenever I tried to craft pills, I somehow blew up the entire compound to pieces. So, my teacher, Caspian Hemlock, never allowed me to touch a cauldron, and my female peers always took the blame for me. Then, Zephyr Tierra arrived in town. He was a once-in-a-millennium prodigy at pill crafting. He swore he could raise our order to glory, and he loathed worthless trash like me above all else. So, he organized a pill-crafting tournament with my female peers, using me as a negative example every single day. On the day of the Arch-Alchemist’s election, he and my female peers drugged me with a crippling draught and cast me into the Miasma Woods. I died, but my soul stayed. I bound myself to a Zero to Hero System. The system spoke, “Carlton, you have fulfilled the prerequisite: A Wretched Death. The First Alchemist’s Legacy acquired.” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Zephyr Tierra arrived in town. This time, when I flicked my finger, Enneaphyllon, an herb extinct for ages, sprouted from my palm. Zephyr’s eyes went wide. “I-Impossible!” I sneered and said, “Don’t you know that a true arch-alchemist doesn’t need a cauldron?” Every herb and every tree in the whole of Crucible was my elixir.

On our tenth anniversary, my husband's secure work phone buzzed. "Sorry, honey. Emergency callout." He looked so anxious that I did what I had always done and let him leave without complaint. One second later, my phone recommended a viral video with more than a million likes. Derek Foster's best friend, Mason Reed, raised his glass to the camera, drunk and grinning. "First toast to me. My buddy disappeared, so I stood in as the groom. "Second toast to me. He went on a date, and I told his wife he was at tactical training. "Third toast to me. He handed me his kid to raise, and I became a dad without doing any of the work." The comments exploded. Everyone praised Mason for creating the perfect comedy account. I couldn't laugh. Mason really was raising an eight-year-old boy alone. I called him. "Where are you?" His voice was thick with sleep, but he answered, "Out grabbing barbecue with Derek." I hung up, picked up my newest Birkin, and took a selfie in front of Derek's prized whiskey wall. Then I posted: "Trading in my husband. Thirty-six, seeking two eighteen-year-olds. Ambition optional. DMs open."

Natalie Shaw, the dance company's new understudy, slipped razor blades into my practice outfit and left my back slashed and bloody. My boyfriend, Derek Mercer, the theater's associate director, sent her makeup case skidding across the room with one furious kick. "Touch her again, and I'll end you!" Natalie was thrown out of the rehearsal room, her eyes rimmed red. After that, she didn't just refuse to back down. She hired a few thugs to corner me in the alley behind the theater. Derek threw himself in front of me to block a steel pipe, fracturing his arm. Everyone said Derek would die for me. Then, at a sponsors' dinner the night before the tour, I drank a glass of wine Natalie handed me. Within minutes, my limbs went slack and my skin began to burn. I dragged myself into a storage closet at the end of the hall, only to hear Natalie's syrupy voice just outside the door. "The way you took that beating for her two days ago almost broke my heart. But..." Fabric rustled, and Natalie giggled. "Back in the private dining room, you watched me slip something into her drink. You knew those sponsors had cameras ready and were waiting for her. And you just stepped out for a smoke." "You let me destroy her reputation, so the principal role is mine now. Right?" Derek said nothing. He only pinned her against the door. The door vibrated slightly, striking a heavy blow against my heart. He had already given his heart to someone else.

My wife's first love fell seriously ill. To save him, she gave away the kidney donor that was meant for me. Afraid I would cause a scene at the hospital, she locked me inside our home. Day after day, she stayed by his bedside, cooking for him, caring for him, never leaving his side. All she left for me was a box of stale biscuits… and expired milk. A month later, she finally opened the door. "Have you thought it through?" I looked at her, pale and desperate. "If I don't get that transplant, I'll die." "Why are you talking about dying?" she snapped. "You've endured this for so long already. A little more pain won't kill you. Are you trying to scare me?" "But Vincent is different. He's never been able to handle pain. Can't you be more understanding?" "Understand…" I nodded stiffly. Then, I walked out, without looking back. Only for her to be stabbed multiple times… yet still refuse to let go of my hand!

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

Two weeks before I stopped waiting, Ethan Hayes gave my island invitation to another woman. Her name was Mia Lawson. Twenty-six, pretty, soft-spoken, and always close enough to him that people had started pretending not to notice. That night, everyone at our table went quiet. Ethan didn't. He placed the envelope in her hand and said, "You've been working too hard. Take a break." Mia blushed like he had given her roses. I looked at the envelope, then at the man I had waited eight years to marry. That island was supposed to be ours. The beach, the villa, the ceremony site facing the ocean. All of it. Maya gripped my hand under the table and whispered, "Claire, say something." But I only smiled, because if I opened my mouth, I was afraid I would beg. And I was done begging. Two weeks later, on that same island, my phone kept lighting up with Ethan's name. I didn't answer. I was already wearing the white dress he had told me to return.

Eight years ago, my daughter, Joey Porter, was stuck in the desert of death. Her GPS had blinked out, and she ran out of supplies. She kept calling for me for over a dozen hours over the walkie-talkie. The only rescue team was an hour's flight away from her, only to get intercepted halfway there. Later on, I found out that my wife, Ruby Shaw, spent 800 thousand dollars bribing the dispatch center, rerouting the rescue team's flight route just so they could save Ruby's younger brother, Howard Shaw, instead. Howard had had too much to drink at that time, causing him to lose his way outside the resort that was located at the edge of the desert. When he was found, it turned out that he was about a mile away from the resort. But the rescue team never came for Joey, who waited for them till she was dehydrated and, later on, died in the desert. Since then, I've quit my job and made this living hell my new home. For the next eight years, I work as a desert guide, ultimately saving over 100 people. Every inch of the dunes and the hidden sand currents are engraved into my mind. Today, my partner decides to give me a rescue order that's worth an astronomical amount. He urges me to pack my things and set off immediately. I glance at the photo, only to see a familiar face. That's when I turn off my walkie-talkie and get up to my feet before heading outside. "I can't save this person."

I was the most cheated-on man in our entire circle. People online had even put together a compilation of every time my wife had cheated on me. Whenever Vanessa Kane started threatening suicide, everyone knew I'd been cheated on again. The first time, she wanted to go on vacation with a college student she was keeping. She stood on the roof of an eighteen-story building and forced me to get on my knees and beg her. The second time, she wanted to celebrate her male assistant's birthday. She grabbed a shard of glass and screamed that she'd slit her wrists. When I tried to stop her, the glass severed a tendon in my hand. The third time, she wanted to win over a male model from a club, and she was dead set on becoming a nun. It went on and on. Then came the ninety-ninth time, when she said she'd found the love of her life. To sleep with Lucas Reed, she lost the baby she'd been carrying for twenty weeks, then threw what was left of our unborn child down in front of me. "You can forget it. I'm never having your baby as long as I live." Heartbroken and done, I laid a divorce agreement in front of her parents. "Let's get divorced. I'm letting Vanessa go."

I'd lost count of how many times Ethan had turned me down when I asked to stay the night at his place. "Ethan, you're no fun at all." I grumbled. The day before, I'd noticed someone had left a mark by my front door, the kind that flags a woman living alone. It scared me, so I went to Ethan and asked if I could crash at his place for a few days. He said no. "I'll book you a hotel room for tonight." When he saw I was upset, he softened. "I just don't want to give up my own space this soon." "Give me a little time to get used to the idea, okay?" Three years together, and no matter how late our dates ran, he always drove me home. He never once asked me to stay. I wasn't happy about it, but I nodded and let it go. It wasn't that late yet, so I suggested we catch the new movie that had just come out. Ethan checked the time instead and hurried me off to the hotel, a little on edge. Alone in the room, I happened to scroll past the social media of a new coworker. "AC's broken at my place. Thank God I've got someone to run to, or I'd melt." The photo behind the caption showed the TV wall in Ethan's living room. My stomach dropped. I stared at the picture for a long time. By the time I came back to myself, my face was wet with tears. Then I slid off the engagement ring Ethan had given me. A love with something rotten stirred into it wasn't a love I wanted anymore.

Throughout our seven-year marriage, my CEO wife, Ruby Irving, goes on yet another business trip on Memorial Day once again, so she can't travel back to my hometown with me. But soon, I saw the photos uploaded by her assistant, Wilbur Stork, on his social media feed that featured her sweeping the grave in his hometown instead. The caption writes, "Mom and Dad must be very satisfied with their daughter-in-law because the gloomy weather has cleared up in an instant." I chortle in amusement for a brief moment before liking the post calmly. Then, I comment, "I respect your relationship and wish you nothing but happiness." But my colleagues all go nuts over the latest bombshell. They are quick to form their chat groups and speculate as to how I'm going to cause my next ruckus in the company this time. Ruby soon calls me while sounding very stern. "I know Wilbur does things very brashly due to his young age, but you shouldn't have caused him trouble in the comment section! What will everyone else in the company think of him? How is Wilbur supposed to continue working in this company? "Moreover, Wilbur doesn't have anyone left in his family. What's wrong with me keeping him company just this once? People with happy families like you don't have empathy for others at all! "I want you to delete your comment and remove your like right now. Once the holidays are over, I'll free up some time in my schedule to go back to your hometown with you." As I listen to Ruby making yet another empty promise to me in such a casual way, I let out a soft chuckle. "It's fine." Once the holidays are over, we'll be able to obtain our divorce certificates.