Tragic Love Romance の短編小説 & Hypocrisy 小説

“Honey, let’s make a baby together so that you won’t leave me.” I resisted, but my husband ignored it and forced himself onto me. After that, I did it with him 520 times, each time a nightmare for me. Even when he was on business trips, he had to monitor my every move via video, terrified that I would run away. However, one day, I received an invitation to an art exhibition. The intimate gestures between my husband and me had been turned into works of art, filling the entire gallery. My husband held a young female intern by the waist, his gaze sweeping over me with indifference. “Two years ago, you insisted on going against Tiara over an art collectible and suppressed her during the auction, spending lavishly just to humiliate her.” “Now there are 520 art pieces here, an exhibition showcasing your disgrace. If you don’t want them falling into someone else’s hands, you’ll need to bid on them one by one.”

My boyfriend, Cedric Lambert, and I have been in a long-distance relationship for three years. I video call him every night. The first time I notice a pink scarf that doesn't belong in his room, I take a screenshot and confront him. But before he can answer, his older sister, Cecilia Lambert, messages me. "Naomi, that's my scarf. I must've accidentally left it at his place the last time I visited." The second time, I spot two used condom wrappers in the corner of the screen. One of his friends immediately sends me a screenshot of a hotel booking. "Naomi, this one's on me," Kian Callahan explains. "I was just messing around with Ced and didn't think about how it would look. I'm sorry." These incidents keep happening for the third and fourth time. But every time something suspicious appears in the background of his video calls, someone conveniently steps forward to claim it. Then comes Cedric's birthday. Without telling anyone, I take an eight-hour train to his city, hoping to surprise him. Instead, I find the area outside his apartment building decorated for a wedding. A large sign beside the entrance reads, "Congratulations, Cedric Lambert & Addison Ross!" Beside the entrance is a large wedding portrait of Cedric with a woman I've never seen before, his arms wrapped around her as they kiss. I bite down hard on my lip until I taste blood. With trembling fingers, I type a message into our group chat. "I just received a wedding invitation from a woman named Addison Ross. Does anyone know her?" The group falls completely silent. After a long moment, my best friend, Scarlett Crosby, finally breaks the silence. "Addison's a friend of mine. She must've sent it to the wrong address by mistake," she explains. "Just keep the invitation, Naomi. I'll explain everything later." Hot tears splatter against the glass of my screen as my chest tightens. So it turns out Cedric isn't the only one who's been betraying me these past three years.

The day I fail to get into university, my childhood sweetheart breaks off our engagement. Then he delivers the next blow. He's marrying my best friend, Katherine Schaffer, who actually got into a university. They've even already registered their marriage. Crushed by the double betrayal, I leave home to clear my head, only to fall into the hands of human traffickers. Katherine's stepbrother, Dominic Frizzell, spends his entire fortune rescuing me. Even after I lose a hand, he proposes. After we marry, he spoils me in every way. Sometimes it feels like he practically worships me. That goes on for seven years, until one day, I overhear my mother-in-law lecturing him. "You abducted Valerie and cut off her hand just so Katherine could take her place at the university. And to make sure Valerie couldn't get revenge, you even married her. You've done more than enough for Katherine." Dominic's voice holds a quiet melancholy. "It's still not enough. Kat always deserves the best." I freeze behind the door, stunned by the truth. It turns out that all the suffering and every supposed act of salvation were simply Dominic using me.

My best friend, Susie Young, broke a bone while saving my boyfriend's mother. So my boyfriend, Josh Wagner, had to take care of her after work every day. At first, he still came home afterward. Later, he got tired of going back and forth, so he simply started staying at the hospital dorm. Whenever I asked about Susie's injuries, he always looked helpless. "It takes at least three months for an injury like that to heal. She's probably got a long way to go. If it weren't for repaying her for saving my mom, I wouldn't even bother taking care of her." When Susie heard that, she rolled her eyes. "You think I want you here? You can't even peel an apple properly." They acted so openly that it seemed like there was nothing going on between them. Then one day, my blood sugar dropped, and I accidentally fell down the stairs. My arm was dislocated in the fall. Drenched in cold sweat from the pain, I called Josh. He sounded helpless. "Susie has rehab today. I really can't get away. Take a cab to the ER yourself." I dragged myself to the hospital, my arm limp and weak. I stopped by Susie's room. When I pushed the door open, the room was empty. A nurse told me Susie had been discharged two weeks ago and was recovering at home. I stood frozen in the hallway, my hands and feet cold and numb. Then a post from Josh's mom popped up on my phone. "Josh is all grown up now. He finally brought his future wife home!" In the video, Susie and Josh were fooling around in matching aprons. They both saw the post and liked it at the same time. Neither of them offered an explanation.

After my boyfriend, Matteo Hogan, has fallen asleep, I notice that his phone has been receiving numerous notifications. When I tap on them, I find out that Matteo has answered a question on a thread named, "How far can one go for the sake of the one they can't be with?" "I've been in love with my childhood friend for 12 years, and yet I'm now dating a woman I don't love. My childhood friend has a first love. In order to ensure her happiness, I purposefully woo the one that her first love has a crush on, who happens to be my current girlfriend. That way, I can help my childhood friend get rid of her love rival. "Now, she's about to marry her first love. As for me? Well, since I can't be with her, I might as well be with anyone else in this world." Only then do I realize that I'm the girlfriend whom Matteo never loves this whole time.

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."

Three years back, a crash wrecked Rhea's hearing—and the future she'd built her life around. At her lowest point, Eddie stayed by her side like a hero, pulling her out of the shadows. But the second she got her hearing back and thought she could finally tell him... she heard the truth: he'd planned the whole thing. For his beloved. So she could win. Yeah, he was already engaged. To that girl. Rhea didn't cry. Didn't scream. Just picked up her phone. "Grandpa, I'm ready. I'm taking back the Cliburn name. And I'm entering the international piano competition as your heir."

When Clara Jones learns that her son has leukemia, her world crumbles. After several failed donor matches, she still can't reach her husband, who's away on a business trip. In the end, her best friend, Monica Spencer, rushes to the hospital and turns out to be a compatible match. Carrying a basket of nourishing supplements, Clara visits Monica. When she arrives at her hospital room, she sees Monica wrapped tightly in a man's arms. That man is none other than Clara's husband, Luther Tanner, whom she had remarried three years ago. "Why would you offer to donate your bone marrow without telling me? That needle was so long. Do you have any idea how worried I was? You've been avoiding me for the past three years. Have you forgotten how to look after yourself?" Monica reciprocates the hug affectionately and chokes out, "I'm Sean's biological mother, after all. Now that he's sick, I had to come back." Frozen outside the door, Clara feels as though she's been thrown into a frigid pool. Those words root her to the spot. How can Sean Tanner not be her biological son? How's that even possible? Back then, she endured three days and nights of obstructed labor just to bring him into the world. She suffered massive blood loss after giving birth, and nearly all the blood in her body had to be replaced. But the second Sean lay in her arms, she felt she had no regrets left in this lifetime. So, how on earth can he be Monica's?

I've had severe acrophobia since birth. My legs weaken, and I get dizzy even when I'm just standing on the second-floor balcony. For the past six months, my fiancé, Oliver Bayley, has been arranging "desensitization training" for me. First, he puts me on a 33-foot-tall platform and leaves a single ladder for me to climb down. I grip the handles and cry until I'm dehydrated, but he just records my anguished expression through the surveillance cameras. Later, Oliver takes me cliff swinging. He also forces me to walk across a glass bridge that's built high in the sky. He sighs and shakes his head every time I scream in terror, kneel on the floor, and refuse to move. "My marital home is on the top floor of an apartment with a river view, Holly," he says. "How are you going to marry me if you can't even conquer your fear?" I assume Oliver's frustration stems from wanting to cure my phobia. However, I realize that's not the case when he takes me to an abandoned observation tower in the suburbs. The glass observation deck at the top of the tower is in disrepair. The railings have also come loose. Oliver blindfolds me when he leads me up the tower. He then suddenly disappears. When I rip the blindfold off, I realize that I'm over 300 feet above the ground. A wave of dizziness crashes over me, and warm liquid trickles uncontrollably down my thighs and drenches the hems of my pants. In my panic, I pick up the Bluetooth earbud that Oliver accidentally leaves behind. I hear the raucous laughter of my best friend, Carrie Kirby, and my brother, Elias Alden, echo through the earbud. "Did you film that? Holly wet herself out of fear!" Carrie stifles her laughter and says, "I got it! Her pants are soaked, and she's crying on the floor like a baby. Lydia will definitely laugh when she sees this." "Oliver's really something else," Elias chimes in teasingly. "How did he come up with the idea to make Lydia happy by showing her Holly's humiliating appearance when Holly's acrophobia leaves her terrified? Lydia's depression has improved a lot recently." Oliver lets out a nonchalant chuckle. "Lydia wouldn't have been harassed by the netizens and developed depression if it wasn't for Holly. This is just Holly's way of compensating her, making her feel better by showing her humiliating side." The freezing winds that billow past me feel like blades slicing against my skin. The biting cold burrows deep into my bones. It turns out that, for the past six months, my "desensitization training" has been an elaborate ruse they came up with to make Lydia feel better. As for me, I'm the only clown on the stage.

I was three months pregnant when my fiancé left me to marry his first love, Isabella Thompson. Soon after, I was in a car accident. I survived, but our baby didn't. My childhood friend, Daniel Smith, found out and insisted on marrying me despite his family's objections. He spent a fortune on the best doctors to ensure I recovered fully. Later, he arranged a grand proposal, confessing he had loved me for years. I was touched and agreed to marry him. But three years later, I overheard his conversation with his friend, Mike Perez. "Remember years ago when Isabella stole Jessica's fiancé? To avoid any future trouble for Isabella, you married Jessica and even caused that car accident, which killed the baby she was carrying. Now, can she even get pregnant anymore?" Mike asked. "No, I love Isabella," Daniel replied. "I just didn't want to have any babies with Jessica, so I put birth control in her water." I trembled, unable to believe what I had heard. It turned out Isabella was also Daniel's first love. I figured it was time for me to leave.

The day we divorced, I gave up custody of our son. For once, Logan looked up at me. “Coral. “You nearly died on the operating table giving birth to him. “And now you want to abandon him as well?” I slid the signed divorce papers across the table. “That’s right.” Logan stared at me long and hard before letting out a scoff. “So you’re weaponizing the boy to force me to come back to you?” I didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, I placed my access card on the table–the one that had once granted me access to every conference room in the Reed Group. Five years ago, I stayed by his side throughout when the business faced its darkest chapter, edging on bankruptcy. Logan had declared there and then that I was the only lady of the household. Yet now, he believed that social standing was all I cared about. Not at all convinced, Logan refused to sign the petition on my terms. He simply uttered icily, “I have no time for your games.” Days later, my body was laid before him. Reality sank in. There was no turning back for us anymore.

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?

Nathan Riley and I had been married for five years. Throughout those five years, whenever I asked him about his relationship with Rosie Cooper, he always gave me the same answer. "She's like a little sister to me." I believed him right up until the crash. That was the day I finally learned who Nathan would choose if his wife and his so-called little sister were both in danger. It happened during a chain-reaction collision on a mountain highway. The SUV I was in smashed through the guardrail, leaving half the vehicle hanging over a cliff. A jagged piece of metal tore through the window and sliced across my face. Blood poured into my eyes, turning everything around me into a blur of red. Nathan reached out to me first and grabbed my hand. For one brief second, I thought I was safe. Then, Rosie started crying from the wrecked car nearby. "Nathan, I don't want to die. Please get me out first." His expression changed instantly. I tightened my grip on his hand. "Nathan, don't let go. There's nothing beneath me." His jaw clenched, and he started prying my fingers off his hand. "Joslyn, can you stop making this harder? Rosie's been on her own since she was a child." Suddenly, the SUV lurched beneath me. My grip slipped from Nathan's hand, and I plunged into the darkness below. The last thing I saw before everything went black was Nathan turning away from me and rushing toward Rosie. When I woke up, Nathan was sitting beside my hospital bed, looking as though he had not slept in days. The moment he noticed me stirring, relief washed over his face. He quickly took my hand, murmuring my name and thanking the heavens that I had finally woken up. I kept my eyes closed and pretended not to recognize his voice. "Excuse me, sir… Are you with the rescue team?"

On the 99th floor of the most luxurious apartment building in the capital city, my husband's sister was once again threatening to jump down the building for the 63rd time. Dana realized she was getting tired all of a sudden. She was even thinking of jumping down herself. The police on the other side of the call couldn't say anything else except, "Mrs. Hill, how many times is this already…? Just deal with it yourself and let her do whatever she wants."

On Valentine's Day, my fiancee, Camilla Stenson, is admitted to the ER in the middle of the night for food poisoning. In her dazed state, she blurts out, "Nathan, I'm sorry I let you down. If it weren't for me being broke back then, I wouldn't have gotten together with Hendrick." My name is Hendrick Toff, while Nathan Langdon is her first love. It seems that she's forgotten that after the Stenson family went bankrupt, Nathan abandoned her and headed overseas. For the past eight years, I was the one who paid off her debts and remained by her side. Yet, in the end, the person she's always held close to her heart is none other than Nathan. I calmly tell her I want to break up with her, then toss my engagement ring into the trash. However, she says, "Can't you be more magnanimous? Nathan definitely wouldn't be as unreasonable as you." I laugh. "In that case, I'll be giving a piece of trash like you over to him as well."

On the morning of our pre-wedding health exam, a health alert popped up on my smartwatch. It was synced to my fiancé, John William. [2:17 AM. Elevated Heart Rate. Location: Clara Gabriel's Apartment.] Beneath it was an activity log. [Vigorous Exercise. 42 minutes.] My fingers went numb. John had insisted on sharing our health data so I would know if he was working too late or suffering a migraine. I never realized that data would track his pulse spiking in another woman’s bed. Looking back, the signs were everywhere. The night Clara had a fever, his heart rate surged until 3:00 AM. The night Clara had insomnia, his heart rate stayed steady in her apartment until dawn. On Clara’s birthday, his watch logged an all-nighter with three distinct heart rate peaks. Whenever I asked, John would just laugh it off. "You're getting jealous over algorithm updates now? You need a hobby." Clara would give a guiltless smile. "He’s just worried about me living alone." I didn't realize worry was meant to be so hands-on. At the clinic, Dr. Gates handed me the registry forms. "Fill in the groom's information so we can set up the joint file." I looked at the blank space next to Spouse and smiled. "Never mind." His heart wasn't mine to monitor anymore.

Not long after Josh Stewart proposed to me, the Stewart family went bankrupt. He took on three jobs, pouring everything he had into taking care of me. Every morning, he handed me the first cup of coffee, and the only fresh bagel on the table was always mine. He would pull me into his arms and promise, softly but firmly, that once he had saved his first 100,000 dollars, he would marry me. I believed every word. Until the day I stepped into an exclusive private club and saw him with his childhood sweetheart, their fingers intertwined, as he ordered a bottle of Lafite without a second thought. "If Yvette still hasn't realized in three days that Donald's been pretending to be you, then you win," she said with a smile. "Her eyesight isn't great," Josh replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And Donald avoids women. She won't notice. If I win, you're coming abroad with me for the wedding." I stood there, just out of sight, listening. A small smile tugged at my lips. Perhaps… it was time to find myself a different groom.

Noelle Anderson grows up with Stephen Sedgwick, the son of the family her mother works for as a housekeeper. What starts as a childhood friendship slowly turns into love. But when Stephen's father dies, everything between them changes. Stephen turns his hatred and resentment on Noelle, taking pleasure in making her miserable. After one disappointment too many, Noelle finally walks away. But the moment Stephen hears she's getting married, he becomes desperate to win her back.

During the long National Day holidays, I planned a Golden Highlands trip for the whole family. I even booked tickets for a luxurious train ride so we could enjoy the scenery. But on departure day, my husband and son vanished. I called my husband. I could hear an airport boarding announcement in the background. My voice trembled. "Where are you?" He panicked and mumbled that the company had an emergency before hanging up. I tried calling again, but the line was busy. The next day, he posted an update on his social media. In the photo, he stood beneath the snowy peaks of Wintercrown with one arm around his old love while the other held our son. The caption read: [If we had been a little braver back then...] A friend commented: [Where is your wife?] I stared at his reply: [She's sick and resting at home.] Three expired train tickets sat on the table as my eyes welled up with tears. A decade of marriage. A pack of lies. It was time to bring it all to a close.

On the day of his funeral, I discovered that my fiance, Zachary Gray, had come back to life. His friend says teasingly, "You sure know how to stage an act, Zachary. Your fiancee cried so much over your fake death that she almost went blind!" Zachary smiles indifferently and says, "Stepping into marriage is like taking one foot into the grave. Of course, I have to have some fun first." I stand in the shadows and watch him bend down to kiss another woman. He then points at the tombstone I had carefully and painstakingly carved for him, laughing until he can't catch his breath. Watching him, I feel like an utter fool. I take out my phone and call my father. "Dad, since Zachary is dead, our engagement is null. Let's pull out of the collaboration with the Gray family's company."