Independence Romance Short Stories & Awakening Novels

A few days before my postpartum period ended, I found two plane tickets to Mirelia tucked inside Daryl’s wallet. I was secretly delighted. I thought he had planned a surprise for me. But on the very day I was supposed to recover, he told me that his company had suddenly sent him on a business trip. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep—only to see his first love post on social media. [Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.] The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing. I didn’t confront him right away. Instead, I turned to look at my sleeping daughter beside me, then picked up my phone. [Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll take over the family business.]

I have been reborn on the day Sierra Shepherd regains her memories. I watch as the butler hands me a check and says, "Here's 1.5 million dollars. You can think of it as a reward for taking care of Ms. Shepherd during this time." His implication is unmistakable. He wants me to take the money and get out of her life for good. In my past life, as the Shepherd family hands over the check, I feel lost and uncomfortable. Sierra grips my hand firmly and says, "You should come home with me, Caleb. I'll protect you." I return with her to the Shepherd family without looking back because of her single promise. I block every scheme aimed at her, fight alongside her step by step, and help her reclaim control of the family. I have helped her until the day she holds her wedding banquet with Mason Lund, who instructs the Lunds to kidnap me and throw me into the sea. Sierra only responds coldly after hearing the news of my death, saying, "He was just a guy using past favors to try to climb the social ladder. He's better off dead." I snap back to reality and look at the check in front of me. I then say without any hesitation, "I'm afraid 1.5 million dollars won't be enough." I smile faintly as Sierra stares at me in disbelief. "I want 4.5 million dollars. I won't bother you and Mr. Lund as soon as I receive the money." I won't go back to being someone else's sacrifice since I have this startup capital. Isn't it much better to just focus on making money and living my best life on my own?

After celebrating our tenth anniversary, my wife suddenly drops her ring into my palm. "Don't you feel like our life has gotten pretty boring? Maybe we should just get a divorce."

For ten years, I was the messenger between Gabriel Moretti and my sister, Vivian. Every time he and Vivian fought, he trashed the whole studio. As the kid sister who tagged along, I was the one running around the neighborhood at midnight for bandages and hangover pills. They couldn't stand each other's stubbornness. And yet, whenever the mood struck, they kissed like they never wanted to stop. Then, no matter what he did to stop her, my sister got on a plane to California for grad school. Gabriel caught me outside the airport security checkpoint. His eyes were red as he gripped my chin. "She thinks she's the only one who gets to walk away from me? Vera, I know you've been in love with me for years. We're going to City Hall." It was how he got back at my sister. For me, it was a pit I couldn't climb out of. In three years of marriage, he never once held my hand in public. But late every night, he pressed me down into the bed in the master suite and wouldn't let me go. I thought he'd finally accepted me as his wife. Then, last night, my sister posted a boarding pass on Instagram. Gabriel told me to move out of my own home that same night. "Gabriel, I'm your wife." He looked at me like I'd said something ridiculous and gave a thin smile. "You know better than anyone why we got married. Greed doesn't suit you, Vera." I didn't say a word. I just took the unopened box and, right in front of him, dropped it in the trash by the door. "You're right." I smiled at him. "I'm done being greedy." What Gabriel didn't know was that just this morning, I'd signed up for an exchange program in Switzerland. By next week, that little tagalong who did nothing but carry messages would be gone from this city.

I was getting a spa treatment at a beauty salon when Phoebe called. "I just saw Derrick buying jewelry for a woman at the mall." "Got it." "Aren't you going to catch him in the act?" "No need." I gave birth three months ago. After the spa, I needed to hit the gym, and by five, I had to pick up William. I had no time for this nonsense.

Everyone on both sides of the law knew two things: Valerie Pelt, the Pelt family heiress, loved to play around, and her husband oved to threaten divorce. So the last time Valerie and I got divorced, she signed the papers without batting an eye and asked, "So how long are you going to sulk this time? A week? Two?" Everyone assumed it would go the way it always did, that before long, I'd come crawling back with my tail between my legs. But this time, I moved, changed my number, and vanished without a trace. A year later, I ran into her by chance while representing my company in a partnership pitch. I presented the proposal for two hours, and she sat there in silence the entire time. Only when my expression darkened did she finally speak, her voice lazy. "Are you done? My patience is running thin. How about dinner tonight?" I glanced at the time and shook my head. "I have to pick up my kid from my mother-in-law's. If you'll excuse me." After all, my wife had been investigating her all along, and I was in no hurry to see her caught just yet.

I was in a temporary shock from an allergic reaction. The two guys I had grown up with didn't even look my way. One of them was busy helping Vivian Byrd carry a pile of gifts, while the other was snapping pictures of her at some popular social media spot. It was a stranger passing by who called an ambulance and got me to the hospital, saving my life. The next day, Vivian called, her tone almost smug. "Trish, Zeke and Hendrick were so exhausted after shopping with me yesterday. I heard you threw a tantrum and ended up in the hospital. Should I come visit you?" I simply replied, "No need." Zeke Benson and Hendrick Peay were my childhood friends. They once treated me like I was everything to them—promising to pluck the moon and stars from the sky and to protect me forever. But ever since Vivian came into the picture, their world no longer revolved around me. I thought for a moment and then dialed my mother's number. "Mom, I'll accept the marriage arrangement."

The day my college acceptance letter arrived, Aiden Corliss said he would pick me up for dinner. "Congrats on getting into college in Kelderwick, Eloise," he said. "Once the semester starts, I'll be out there too, and it'll be just like when we were kids." I believed him. I waited from 3:00 pm until 9:00 pm. The streetlight outside my rented apartment was broken, and I sat alone on the front steps, hugging the acceptance letter. He never showed up. When I opened social media, I found a video my sister, Clarissa Mallory, had posted. Aiden had gone with her to try on her new clothes, and at one point he crouched down to tie her shoelaces. Her caption read: [Good thing someone's always had a soft spot for me.] Underneath, our brother had commented: [Aiden's got me beat as a big brother.] Our mom had written: [As long as Clarissa's smiling, we can rest easy.] I suddenly remembered a year earlier, when Aiden had been the one convincing me to step aside. "Eloise, your grades are great and you can handle anything. Just let Clarissa have this one. Moving out is only temporary. Once she's better, everyone will bring you back home." All that waiting got me nowhere. Nobody replied when my exam scores came out. I ate takeout alone after my summer job, and when my suitcase broke at the start of the school year, no one cared. At 10:00 pm, Aiden finally texted me: [Crazy busy today. I'll make it up to you another time.] I replied: [Don't bother.] Then, I unpinned his chat. When someone was that late, there was no point in them coming at all.

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

When I was reborn, Horace was pressing me down on the bed. His phone rang with a piercing ringtone, interrupting him from undressing me. After seeing the caller ID, the desire in his eyes instantly disappeared. Throwing a random bath towel on my body, he said, "Leave. My new girlfriend doesn't like it when I smell like someone else." Without another word, I got dressed and left without any complaint. In my past life, I wasn't willing to leave, and clung onto him, throwing away all my dignity, and I even became crippled after saving him during a car accident. As I wished, I became his wife, only because he said, "Let's have a baby. Then, even if I was no longer around, our child would be able to take care of you." I endured several life-threatening medical crises during my pregnancy, but then I overheard him talking to Vivian, "Vivi, you'll be saved once the kid is born." "But that's you and Rose's child, isn't it? Wouldn't she get mad if she knew?" Horace's voice was ice-cold. "I only let her live because she could still give birth. Did she think that I'd fall for a cripple?" In my anger, I pulled out my oxygen tube, and both I and my baby died. Now that I was reborn, I would never walk the same path once more.

I'm rejected after asking for my boyfriend's hand in marriage for the 99th time. To my devastation, he turns and proposes to my best friend. I storm over to his office to demand an answer, but I hear them making out. My boyfriend says, "Don't worry. She offered herself to me in bed several times, but I've never touched her." I head home and trash the place. When I run out of strength, I make a call. "I'll marry you, Spencer." Since the man I chose doesn't love me, I'll now go for someone who does.

Dad has a stroke and needs money to save his life. I'm left with no choice but to borrow money from my secret CEO boyfriend of five years. Before I can even say anything, he frowns and tells me he's busy. Then, he hurries off to attend his childhood sweetheart's birthday celebration. He only remembers me the following day. "What did you need?" I hold Dad's death certificate and smile wanly at him. "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that we're over."

My online boyfriend dropped a bomb on me the day before freshman orientation day. He had been playing dice with a group of friends and lost a bet. Apparently, I was the prize. Before I could even figure out whether he was joking, he added me to a gaming group chat packed with more than a hundred people. The announcement at the top had already been changed. "Congratulations, Oliver! You just won yourself a 200-pound girlfriend!" A few seconds later, someone posted an old high school photo of me. It was a picture of me in my loose school uniform. As I was at nearly 200 pounds, my neck had practically disappeared into my shoulders. The chat instantly erupted. "Holy shit! That's not a girlfriend. That's a pig in human form." "A bet's a bet. Oliver, you have to do the couple challenge with her tomorrow." The jokes only got worse from there. Before long, someone even started a betting pool over whether I would have the nerve to show up the next night. My own boyfriend threw 10,000 at me and then backed out. "Don't blame me, man. You rolled a six. You won her fair and square." Oliver, the guy who had supposedly won me, stayed completely silent. Then, the girl everyone in the freshman group had already crowned the hottest girl on campus suddenly tagged me. "Lauren, you're coming tomorrow night, right?" I watched message after message fill the screen. Then, I smiled. They had no idea that I had spent the past several months preparing for the day I finally met my boyfriend in person. I was no longer the girl in that photo. I had gone from 200 pounds to 110. I'd been stopped by plenty of guys over the past two months. I'd gotten so many men asking for my number in the past couple of months than I had during the first 18 years of my life combined. None of the people laughing in that chat knew any of that. And I… Well, I didn't see the need to explain myself. Instead, I quietly put 3,000 on myself. My bet was simple. I would show up exactly on time. The entire group chat went crazy the moment they saw it. Mocking comments, jokes, and laughing emojis flooded the screen. I didn't say anything, letting their jeers fill the screen. Then, I sent one final message. "A bet's a bet."

The night my husband came home from another flight smelling of another woman's perfume, one question was taking over social media. "Where have all the homemaker over forty-seven gone? "If life as a homemaker is so wonderful, why doesn't anyone ever speak up about it?" My husband, an international airline captain with over a million followers, signed us up for a livestream. He wanted me to prove that homemaker hadn't vanished. According to him, they were simply loved, protected, and cherished by their husbands. He was certain I'd play along. After all, for 22 years, I'd been the perfect wife. Even when my swollen joints hurt so much I could barely hold a spatula, I still washed his uniforms and made sure dinner was waiting when he got home. Even when he walked through the door carrying another woman's perfume, I would only touch my wedding ring and tell myself the same lie. "He's just having a little fun. In the end, he'll always come back to me." On the day of the livestream, he smiled at the camera and told everyone how happy our marriage was. I was in the kitchen baking, carrying dish after dish to the table. Then the host asked me one simple question. "Would you want your daughter to grow up to be the homemaker as you?" My husband smiled and typed his answer onto the teleprompter for me to read. "Of course." I walked into the frame with the last dish in my hands. I looked straight into the camera. "No," I said. "I wouldn't."

The year the Lawson family was on the edge of bankruptcy, my father made a deal with Rory Lawson and arranged for me to marry him. I didn't know he already had a fiancée, who was also his childhood sweetheart. Later, when my father became embroiled in a scandal and the company faced collapse, Rory brought her home, promising her the grand wedding she deserved. I didn't cry or make a scene. I just quietly packed my bags. Rory sneered, "Don't pull that hard-to-get act. You think you're still the pampered heiress?" Unknown to him, I had the divorce agreement he signed while drunk. In seven days, I'd be leaving the country with my father.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, Jacob Carter once again abandons me for his so-called first love, Wendy Miller. "Wendy's raising a child on her own. It's not easy for her. Can't you be a little more understanding? You're also a woman, aren't you?" Jacob said. In my previous life, that argument turned into a nightmare. He locked me in the house, and when a fire broke out, I was burned to death. After being reborn, I don't just give them my blessing. I pack my bags, walk out on my own terms, and apply to study architecture overseas. And now? Jacob's the one falling apart—crying and begging me not to go.

My fiancé wants to marry me in a pizzeria. At the same time, he promises to give his true love the rest of his life on a luxurious cruise. Our wedding is only 48 hours away, but I don't want him anymore.

After being Nelson Jackson’s devoted simp for five years, Sarah Paterson became pregnant. Just as she was excitedly waiting for him to propose, Nelson had a change of heart when his high school sweetheart returned from studying abroad. Sarah didn't fight to keep the relationship. Instead, she went straight to the hospital, had an abortion, and immediately agreed to the arranged marriage her family had set up with a business partner's son. But Nelson came to regret his decision. He begged Sarah to keep his child, but she only gave him two words in response. "Too late."

This was the ninth year since Luca and I met, and the fourth time we had honored our ridiculous thirty-day break. Luca believed it was the secret to making our relationship last. Every year after our anniversary, we paused our relationship for thirty days. We did not call, ask questions, or interfere with whom the other person dated. If either of us found someone better, we would part gracefully. If not, we would return to each other at the end of the month. Tonight, the Westbridge University racing team had reserved the upstairs room of a bar just off campus. Around me, the guys shook bottles of champagne. "To another year of freedom! Congratulations to our captain on being single again!" "The betting pool is open! Bet left if you think Luca and Elena will marry after graduation. Bet right if you think they'll finally break up!" Champagne flew as laughter blended with the music. I sat alone in one corner, watching as though they were not gambling on my relationship. While everyone laughed, Luca entered the party with his arm around Sienna—the same woman he had chosen last year. He leaned close to me and smiled. “Don’t overthink it. You’re still the only woman in my future.” I rested one hand over the child he did not know I was carrying. Everyone was betting that I would forgive Luca on the thirty-first day. This time, they were all going to lose.