Family Emotions Romance Short Stories & Novels

On my birthday, my girlfriend of ten years, Bella Dixon, tells me she wants to propose. I arrived at the spot, overjoyed, only to see smoke everywhere as my mom, Hannah Moore, screams from inside the house. Trauma from the fire three years ago overwhelms me again, leaving me breathless. To save Mom, I claw my hands raw over the short distance of 16 feet, leaving a trail of blood behind me. When I throw open the door, trembling, I see Mom laughing heartily with her godson, Jasper Wilder. Disgust fills her eyes when she sees how pale I am. "Thanks to Jasper's exposure therapy, you're finally desensitized. Hurry up and thank him." Jasper turns off the sound effects on his phone and leans against Bella's shoulder, laughing and giving me a playful wink. "Jason was such a good sport. Though all that blood, ash and bodily waste was pretty disgusting. Hannah, thanks for your support. I finally have enough material for my PTSD treatment case study." Bella steadies Jasper, then meets my disbelieving gaze. She says casually, "Jasper is only trying to help you. Instead of avoiding it, facing a real-life situation like this is much more effective." The sight before me makes my breath hitch, and I can't even form a complete sentence. "Alright, go clean yourself up. Hannah and I are taking Jasper out to celebrate first." As I watch the three of them leave, my legs finally give out, and I slump to the floor. I have PTSD from that fire years ago, when I tried to save her. Yet she shows me no sympathy and thinks of me as a burden. Even Mom is willing to put on an act with an outsider and use my traumatic experience as research material. In that case, I may as well leave your world for good.

A week before we're supposed to register our marriage, my fiancee, Celine Payton, asks me to book eight train tickets to the beach. She says it's our last trip before we get married, and everyone close to us is going. I spend three days scrambling for tickets and finally manage to get eight seats together. After I pay, a group poll pops up in a chat called "No Henry Sharp Travel Group." The question is simple. "Should Henry come with us?" Seven votes are against it while one person abstains. Not a single vote is in my favor. The voters include Celine, my older sister, Celine's childhood best friend, and my younger cousin, whom I had practically raised. I ask Celine if she's the one who abstained. She rubs her temples. "Yes. I didn't vote against you, and that's already me looking out for you. "Everyone's worried you'll try to control everything and complain about this or that. No one will have any fun. Just give me some space before we get married, okay?" I ask, "Then why do you still have me book eight tickets?" Her answer comes naturally. "You're good at getting tickets. The eighth seat gives us extra room for luggage. I'll send you the money later." My older sister, Joanne Sharp, tries to reason with me. "We're about to be family. Don't let a few tickets ruin your marriage." I look down at the eight seats sitting side by side. So I spend three days scrambling for tickets, not because I'm going with them. I'm only helping everyone else book a trip that doesn't include me. The app reminds me that I have ten minutes left to cancel the tickets. But by then, I don't care whether I can get a refund. What matters is the woman I'm about to marry. Even when everyone else turns against me, she can't bring herself to cast a single vote in my favor.

I was the real daughter brought back to marry in place of the fake one. On the night I married Shaun Harrison, he kissed my tearful eyes and made a promise. “Quiana, if you have my baby, I’ll give you a home.” Because of that promise, I risked my life to give birth to Jaxon Harrison. I dreamed of having a home that belonged to me. But years later, I saw the fake daughter walking over while holding Jaxon’s hand. “Aunt Stella, I wish you were my mom. “I’ll help you get rid of her. Can you be my mom instead?” The fake daughter laughed, and Shaun looked at them lovingly. They looked like a real family.

On Valentine’s Day, I discovered that my brother’s fiancee, Erika Gibson, was cheating on him. So, I tried to tell my brother, Nathan Clinton, about it. However, he yelled at me. He said that I was trying to ruin his relationship and told me to leave. Erika then asked her lover to deal with me, so he kidnapped me. He mocked me for being unable to speak and forced me to sell 200 roses at the night market. I asked Nathan for help, but he replied impatiently. [Moon, I can’t believe you’d lie about something like this… I don’t have time for your games.] I was accidentally hit by a truck while Nathan was having a wonderful time with Erika. Haha. I was finally free, but I wished I had a different brother.

I died beneath the Ferris wheel. The killer took a photo of the Ferris wheel and sent it to my mother. 'Mom, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you too,' wrote the killer. In my mother's voice message, her tone was filled with hatred as she replied, "How dare you ask to ride the Ferris wheel with me when you killed your own sister? Why won't you just die?!" As she wished, I was dead. However, what she didn't know was that the one who killed me was my so-called dead sister.

On my 22nd birthday, my uncle Scott discovered my diary. After he found out about my secret love for him, he sent me overseas. He then spent hundreds of thousands, marrying the love of his life.

I'm severely allergic to many things, so my husband buys a separate villa for me. It's supposed to be sort of a nursing home. When my future daughter-in-law learns about this, she thinks my son is cheating on her. She breaks my bones to vent her anger. When she finds out I'm her future mother-in-law, she caresses her belly and looks at me smugly. "I'm already pregnant with Shawn's child. Think about whether you want this child to make it into this world." What she doesn't know is that the Ziegler family's fortune belongs to me and that Shawn Ziegler is only my adoptive son.

After six months overseas, I had finally secured a hundred billion contract with a partner in Aurelune. I returned to the home my fiancee, Rebecca Holden, and I had bought for our married life, only for the smart lock to keep repeating, “Unrecognized visitor. Please step away.” After ten failed attempts to recognize my face, the system automatically alerted security. A security guard struck the back of my knee with his baton. Pain shot through my leg as I crumpled to the ground. Through gritted teeth, I explained that this was my home. The guard looked me up and down before he scoffed and said, “You can’t even get through the front door! How do you have the nerve to pass yourself off as Ms. Holden’s husband? “Everyone knows she’s head over heels for Mr. McGraw. She picks him up and drops him off every day. She showers him with sports cars and luxury watches. As if her husband would look as broke as you do!” His words knocked the wind out of me. For a moment, I could only stare at him. Then, I saw my childhood friend, Kirk McGraw, step out of the passenger seat of a luxury car that had just pulled up. Rebecca got out with his suit jacket draped over her shoulders. She lifted his son out of the back seat. The front door slid open automatically as Kirk approached. An electronic voice announced, “Door unlocked. Welcome home, Mr. McGraw.”

Every time Millie Johnson, my daughter, returns home from playing with my best friend's dog at his place during summer break, she brings home an expensive doll. I have no choice but to pinch pennies and save up for a gift for my best friend after seeing how much Millie loves the dolls. I return home earlier than usual one day and overhear Millie talking excitedly into her smartwatch from her hiding spot in her room. "Mission accomplished, Mommy! Daddy didn't suspect a thing!" I am momentarily stunned. I am convinced that I have misheard, but then I hear Millie ask for a reward. "You're taking your wedding anniversary photos with Papa today, right? Can I come along, too? I'm so sick of eating plain pasta with Daddy every day, Mommy!" I freeze, my breath catching as I snatch the smartwatch from her. I happen to see the photo that has just been sent over. Sophie Johnson, my wife—who is supposed to be on her janitorial duty this morning—is actually wearing a pure white wedding dress. I stare at the screen, my hands trembling uncontrollably as my heart skips a beat. Millie tosses her doll aside and hurriedly tells me off, "You can't just snoop on me, Daddy! I'll be heading out to play with the doggy later, so don't bother us!" She excitedly peers out the window and waits for her ride after saying that. I stand frozen in place, staring at the apology message Sophie sent just a minute earlier. "I'm so sorry, Steven. It's all my fault for blowing the business and making you and Millie suffer so much all these years. I swear I'll make it up to you, Steven." I feel a sharp pang in my chest, leaving me barely able to breathe. I don't want to confront Sophie yet, so I simply trail the car that has come to pick Millie up instead.

I used to be the apple of my family's eye, but Suzanne Nilson changed that when she showed up on my birthday with a DNA test result. The Nilson family cruelly kicks me to the curb and throws me back to my biological parents, leading to me being sold off to the village idiot. Xavier Gubbens, with whom I've grown up, kicks the door down and saves me. Later, he etches a word on my face. "Do you think you're done repenting for your sins with this, Suzanne Nilson?" Later still, his eyes are red as he pleads, "Can't we go back to how things used to be?" How things used to be? There's no such thing. Everyone has to look to the future.

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

My grandparents, Timothy Shaw and Dorothy Elmer, show up one day to ask for 30 thousand dollars. In response, my wife, Jade Quinn, shuts the door in my face. She refuses to discuss the topic of a loan or open the door for anyone. All she does is send me a text message that reads, "I earn a fixed salary. How could I possibly come up with 30 thousand dollars on the fly? Don't you have other colleagues and classmates? Just ask them for a loan." I mull over the message as my hand hovers over the study door's knob. Through a crack in the door, I can see her on a video call with a male student named Nicholas Dion. She says to him, "Nicky, I've transferred 200 thousand dollars to your bank account. It's not safe for a young man like you to live in a rented place off-campus. Consider the money a gift from me for you to use as a down payment." My hand freezes in midair, trembling slightly. Just then, the door is opened, and Jade sees me standing outside the door. She offers no explanation and shows no sign of guilt. She simply explains unhurriedly, "I married you and not your entire family, so I'm not letting just anyone mooch off of me. I worked hard to earn my money too." She closes the door in my face. She was a mere inch away from catching my hand in the doorframe, but she showed no hesitation. I clench my hands into fists, understanding abruptly dawning on me. It turns out that our marriage is worth less than 30 thousand dollars to her.

On the day of my wedding, my parents suddenly show up at my house with my fiancé, Yoseph Caldwell. They say they've decided the bride is going to change. "Your sister's terminally ill, and her only wish is to marry Yoseph. You're her younger sister, so be generous and help her out." Yoseph chimes in calmly, "Don't worry. It's just a ceremony. Once she passes, you and I can still get the marriage certificate." When I refuse, my parents tie me up. "We'll let you out once the wedding's over." But not long after they leave, an intruder breaks in and brutally murders me. By the time they finally remember me, all that's left is my rotting corpse.

In the seventh year of living apart from my wife, Sharon Shaw, I come to see her, only to have the key break off in the lock again. I hurriedly call her, and she says, "Maybe you grabbed the wrong key again. Go to a hotel and get some rest. I'll open the door when I get back." I look down at the sticker on my key and freeze. I didn't bring the wrong key. The only other possibility is that she has changed the locks. Before I can dwell on it, my dad, Ryan Jarquin, suddenly calls me. He laughs merrily and says, "Of course Sharon isn't home. She came to visit me first thing this morning with a whole bunch of things." My best friend, Steven Morgan, calls me next. He sounds drunk over the phone. "She's getting her nails done with my girlfriend right now. Women are such a hassle." After that, I get a call from my sister, Greta Jarquin. She says, "Sharon is such a busy woman. She finally found some time today to help me with an investment." My mind goes blank. What they don't know is that five minutes ago, the security guard at the entrance told me the owner of this unit had just come home. I don't ask any more questions. Instead, I call a locksmith. Suddenly, I really want to know what secret my entire family is hiding from me.

On the day my wife, Adele Bellamy, rang the opening bell on Merrow Street to take her company public, my daughter and I sat in the audience. When my daughter was invited onstage to speak, she took the microphone and asked me in her small, childish voice, "Daddy, did you really get Mommy by being a homewrecker?" The hushed hall erupted as if a boulder had crashed into still water, and countless camera flashes swung toward my pale face. "Mr. Linwood, is what your daughter said true?" "If his own daughter said it, it has to be true! That's a juicy high-society secret. Bet he never expected his own kid to be the one to spill it." "Haven't you heard? Ms. Bellamy used to have a childhood sweetheart, and then they split up out of nowhere. Maybe he broke them up so that he could take that guy's place!" Amid the uproar, I rushed onto the stage in a panic to explain myself, but the moment I opened my mouth, Adele pressed her hand down on the back of mine. "Yes. He was the homewrecker."

I get into a car accident on my way to surprise my husband, Theodore Vane, during one of his business trips. When I wake up, I keep mistaking people for someone else, even my own parents and husband. The first time my younger sister, Celeste Ashcroft, brings her fiancé home, I throw myself into his arms. My parents panic and quickly pull me away. "Watch yourself! That's your sister's fiancé. Theodore is still away on business." The second time, I catch my sister kissing her fiancé when I drop off her performance outfit. Without thinking, I call out Theodore's name. When my best friend, Sara Lawson, hears about it, she can't resist teasing me. "Heather, it's been so long since you've had any action with Mr. Vane that your hormones must be all over the place!" Just a few days ago, I'm running late for work, so I ask "Theodore" to drive me, making my sister miss her prenatal appointment. I feel terrible, but everyone rushes to reassure me. "Come on, your brother-in-law does look a little like Theodore. It's an easy mistake to make." Eventually, my parents take me to see a doctor because of how much I'm struggling. He tells me the accident has damaged the part of my brain responsible for recognizing people. I believe him. Until the day I go to the hospital alone for a follow-up appointment and happen to see a message from Mom in our family group chat. She's tagged Theodore. "If the baby's doing well after today's checkup, we should stop giving Heather the medication for her face blindness. What's already in her system should last until the baby's born." Theodore replies almost immediately. "Sounds good. Celeste needs more attention during her pregnancy anyway. Heather won't recognize me for a while, but we'll still need you to help cover for us, Mom." I freeze, a deafening ringing filling my ears. I'm not sick at all. They've been drugging me this whole time, just to keep me from discovering Theodore's affair with my own sister.

A stampede happened at my daughter's kindergarten. Timothy Horuson was in a hurry to save his first love's son, and he pulled away someone else's hand. A hand reached out to him, hoping for him to save her. His daughter's hand. And the light in my daughter's eyes faded. The longing for fatherly love she had held on to for so long vanished. I risked my life to save her. She looked at me quietly. "I'll go with you, Mom. We'll leave Dad behind and go somewhere he'll never find us."

I returned home after studying abroad for three years, only to find that my brother’s girlfriend had brought her entire family to live in my mansion. The moment they saw me, they pinned me against the floor. "How dare you! Call him your sweetheart, spend his money, and now you're here to take my mansion? " When I saw the girlfriend’s crazed antics, I was shocked. “Who did you say owns the mansion?” “It’s my boyfriend’s, but it’ll be mine sooner or later. It has nothing to do with you.” With her parents, she yanked off the ancient pendant on my neck and crushed my heirloom bracelet. They even tied up my limbs, put me on the table, and positioned me in a humiliating pose to post online. Her brother pinned my legs down and reached under my shirt…

My father-in-law, Lawrence Richards, suddenly becomes gravely ill. After seeing the exorbitant medical fees, I call up my wife, Victoria Richards. She doesn't ask questions and instructs her people to transfer five million dollars to my bank account. But even as Lawrence is prepped for surgery, the money doesn't show up. Out in the hospital hallway, I repeatedly call Victoria, but my calls go unanswered. Finally, the 7th call gets connected. "Tori! The surgery's about to start, and Dad's in a lot of pain right now. Please tell the finance department to hurry! He's—" The call gets cut off. I continue to wait. In the end, all I receive is the official death verification from the hospital, confirming that Lawrence has died. I also see a photo of a ridiculously expensive watch that Victoria's assistant, Simon Lewis, uploads to his social media. "I only said that I fancied it, and Ms. Richards gives me five million dollars without any hesitation! Now that's a boss I will happily serve for life." Victoria finally sends me a message. "The finance department needs some time to clear the transaction. Can't your dad just wait a little longer?" I looked at my dad, who was waiting outside the operating room with me. It now occurs to me that Victoria has assumed that it's my dad who died.

My six-year-old son, Zac Quest, deliberately fed me almond cake, which I was allergic to, to make me miscarry. Standing in front of the hospital bed, he hid behind my husband, Sterling Quest, with a long face and refused to admit his mistakes, "Grandma said you won't ever divorce Dad once you give birth to my sister. I don't want you as my mom anymore. I prefer Ms. White!" Sterling said indifferently, "We'll have other children. Winona... is indeed more fit to raise Zac than you." Hearing those words, I gave up completely. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I went back home and cleared out all my belongings. All I left behind was a divorce agreement and a letter disowning Zac.