Feel-Good Story Romance Short Stories & Independence Face Slapping Novels

In a car, Matteo Gallagher kisses Evelyn Walsh until she's breathless and entranced. She's been stripped, but he's still fully clothed. The stark contrast makes her blush. Matteo wraps an arm around Evelyn's waist and pulls her close. He chuckles and whispers, "The soundproof divider is up, so the driver can't hear you. He wouldn't dare listen in, anyway. Why are you so shy?" She watches as he intensifies his ministrations on her and throws her arms around him. Love fills her eyes, and she's about to reach her climax. Just then, a phone rings, interrupting them.

I stumbled across an encrypted folder on my husband's phone, filled with photos of a little girl I'd never seen before. From newborn to first steps, sorted by month—two full years' worth. But the child in those photos wasn't our daughter. When I confronted him, he said she was a girl named Rosie from the children's home I sponsored. The director sent growth updates, and he'd been saving them for me. I never imagined that my warm, thoughtful husband would use my charity to spin a lie. Because every single photo was geotagged to the apartment complex next to his office. And the children's home was on the other side of the city. I didn't call him out right then. Because I wanted to know whose child she really was.

On my wedding night, I find out my childhood sweetheart, Sean Clay, has a mistress who is highly fertile. She's already given him a son and a daughter. "My family line is dying out, and your health has always been fragile. Paige gets pregnant easily. With her around to take the pressure off, it'll be easier on both of us. As long as you don't make a fuss, I promise she'll never take your place." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I trash everything in the room and kick everyone out. Clutching my chest, I collapse in front of the bronze mirror, only for the glass to reflect me ten years into the future. The woman in the reflection is gaunt, her hair completely white. "I've already tried throwing a fit and divorcing him. It only led to mutual hatred and absolute ruin. Let me give you a piece of advice. Accept Paige. "She might be fertile, but most of her children won't survive past the age of five. The ones who do will end up mentally impaired." She taps the surface of the mirror, and a flood of unfamiliar memories rushes into my mind. When I come to, tears are streaming down my face. Looking at the aged face in the bronze mirror, I reach out to touch it. "I will save you. And I will save myself."

Dario brought me a silver bracelet engraved with pomegranate blossoms when he returned from Madrid. He pulled me into his arms and nuzzled my temple with the tip of his nose, as tender as every reunion over the past seven years. "Mira, tell me, what does your family value most in a relationship?" I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, sure he was finally about to keep his promise. Seven years earlier, he'd met me in a whitewashed town outside Granada, moved into the courtyard I'd inherited from my mother, and left a pair of handmade leather shoes beside the front door. I come from a Romani family, and my grandmother's side kept an old custom: when a man truly meant to make a place his home, he left a pair of shoes at the door. If the woman put them outside, the door was closed to him for good. I smiled and answered, "Sincerity, of course. " Dario kissed the side of my neck and chuckled. "I knew it. " "Sofia and I got married yesterday. She's carrying my brother Javier's baby, and the Vega family won't let its first grandchild be born without the Vega name." The smile froze on my face. "Then what are we? Nico is already four years old." He reached up to touch my cheek, soothing me as if I were a child who didn't know any better. "Since when did you start using a piece of paper to pressure people? Don't Romani families care more about family acceptance and building a life together? I never said I was leaving you. So what exactly are you upset about?" I looked at his self-righteous face and suddenly laughed. He had probably forgotten that those shoes were still by the door. My family had lived here for three generations. Yet the moment Dario needed me to excuse his betrayal, he reduced me to a Romani woman too ignorant of the law to deserve recognition in public. Now he simply dressed the same prejudice in a gentle voice and spoke it to my face. All I had to do was put those shoes outside. Then this courtyard, this home, and I would never wait for him again.

I arrived at yet another family gathering to see Declan Mercer's assistant sitting in my seat. I turned to him. "She's sitting in the hostess's seat. Do you really have nothing to say?" He looked at me like I was wasting his time. "You showed up late, so don't blame her for taking your spot. There's an empty seat right there. You can sit there, or you can get out." I was about to respond when Declan's inner voice flooded my head. "Come on, babe. Get mad already. "Tell me you need me. Tell me you want to sit next to me. "Prove to me that you love me. That's the only way I'll feel secure." This time, I did not give his inner voice what it wanted. I simply looked down and slid the ring off my finger. "If there isn't a place for me at this table, then I suppose I'm not needed here anymore. "Let's get a divorce."

My girlfriend, Natalie Charlton, had one rule about everything. We always split the cost. She believed nothing ruined a relationship faster than taking advantage of each other. She insisted that if we wanted to stay together, every expense had to be calculated and settled fairly. For four years, we split every meal, bought our own movie tickets, and divided the cost of our Valentine's Day gifts. Whenever she bought me something, she asked me to transfer half of the money back to her. Once, I came down with a fever of 102.2 degrees and called to ask if she could pick up some medicine and bring it to me. She sounded irritated over the phone. "You are a grown man. You have a fever, and you still need your girlfriend to bring you medicine?" "Did we not agree that we were each responsible for ourselves? Why should I pay for your illness?" I braced myself against the wall and made my own way to the pharmacy. After that, I learned to stop asking for anything. I convinced myself that a mature man should never trouble his girlfriend. Then, just before our graduation trip, I borrowed her tablet to look up travel information. I accidentally tapped into her photo album. It was filled with screenshots of old orders. Couples' packages, two movie tickets, VIP passes for two to music festivals, and limited‑edition sneakers. The notes beside them repeated the same words. "He likes this." However, the person she bought all those things for was not me. It was my best friend, Ronald Larkins. The earliest order dated back to our first year together. I took screenshots of the pages, then canceled my own plane ticket. After four years together, the final thing Natalie taught me was this. Never ask again, and never look back.

I'm an orphan, and I spend all my free time volunteering at a nursing home. The elderly residents there feel sorry for me because I have no family, so they all treat me like their own granddaughter. Thanks to them, I have a pretty good life. That all changes when Jenna Olsen, the most popular girl in our department, uses her family's connections to take the spot I'd earned as one of Beyton University's top students. In front of the entire class, she tears my application to shreds and throws the pieces straight into my face. "Do you think an orphan like you can compete with me for this spot?" She pinches her nose and takes two steps back, looking at me with open disgust. "You spend all your time hanging around a bunch of old people who are practically on their deathbeds. You reek of old people! "You'd better know your place. Even if you take this all the way to the dean, no one is going to stand up for you." She folds her arms and gives me a mocking laugh. I bend down and pick up the torn pieces of my application, not bothering to say a word. What she doesn't realize is that the old people she looks down on are far more powerful than she could ever imagine. The old man I play chess with, Mr. Otis Larsson, is a former governor who once wielded enormous influence in the state. The old lady who dances with me, Ms. Nancy Jacoway, is a recently retired senior official at the Department of Education. Even Mr. David Wadsworth, who never stops trying to feed me snacks, is powerful enough to make the entire city of Beyton sit up and take notice.

On the seventh Christmas of our marriage, my husband, Alan Seaton, who worked in France, finally agreed to let me visit him. That was when I learned he wasn't renting some basement apartment at all. He had bought a spacious three-bedroom apartment. His mother, Maria Seaton, had the primary bedroom. He slept in the second, and the third had been turned into a pink princess room for his mother's goddaughter, Daisy. Even Daisy's dog had a climate-controlled kennel on the balcony. When he caught me staring at the kennel, Alan laughed and patted Daisy on the head. "You treat that dog better than your own mother. You insisted he couldn't suffer, so you even had radiant floor heating installed for him." I stared at the border collie eating imported beef in his kennel, and something inside me broke. For a moment, I had no idea what to say to Alan. Should I tell him that I had worked three jobs to fund his business overseas and that when I had a fever, I could only afford expired acetaminophen? Or that I had lived on sandwiches until a bleeding ulcer made me pass out in my rented room? Before I could decide, Alan pulled me over to the dining table. "You haven't worked in Texas in years anyway. Why don't you sell your house there and move here to take care of my mom? You can look after Daisy's dog too." He had no idea I had sold that house in Texas years ago to clean up the mess he had left behind. Nor did he know that I was the real owner of the multinational company he worked for.

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.

To give my wife a sense of security, I stepped back once the company was on track and took over things at home. In ten years, Adeline Hemsley had never brought me to a single company gala. When the tenth anniversary celebration was announced at a five-star hotel, I finally asked if I could come with her. She was slipping into a pair of heels, not even looking in my direction. "You're my husband. If you show up, people won't feel comfortable." Before leaving, she leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. "Be good. Once this busy stretch is over, we'll take Cole to Silver Coast." The door clicked shut. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the Legos and picture books scattered across the floor. A familiar heaviness settled in my chest. Our three-year-old came running over, holding up a black phone. "Dad! Mom forgot her phone!" I hesitated. This wasn't the one she normally used. The moment my fingers brushed the screen, a message preview popped up. [Babe, I picked out a suit for the gala. It's only 6,000. You’ll get it for me, right?]

My twin sister Celeste and I shared the same face, but little else. She believed in forgiveness. I believed anyone who hurt her should pay. Three years ago, Celeste was set to marry Adrien, Crown Prince of Valeria. But an old succession law forbade identical twins from both retaining legal identities once one entered the royal bloodline. So I chose my sister. My parents staged my death, erased Cassandra Montclair from public records, and promised to protect Celeste after I disappeared. I left her my fortune and the Crescent Guard, then vanished to the northern border. I believed my death had bought her safety. Then our dormant twin bond suddenly returned—and pain told me Celeste was being tortured. I reached the capital to find our cousin Vivienne wearing Celeste’s crown beside Celeste’s husband. My parents watched her coronation from the front row. Celeste had vanished. Inside the palace, everyone mistook me for the disgraced former queen. Servants wore her jewelry. Adrien dismissed every plea she had made as jealousy. Even our parents threatened to disown her. They said her wicked sister had died long ago. They said Cassandra would be ashamed of her. Surrounded by royal guards, I picked up a sword and turned the hilt three times—the way I always had before protecting my sister. My mother went pale. My father staggered back. “Cassandra?” I raised the blade. “Now that you recognize me, tell me where my sister is.”

My husband, James Lincoln, disappeared in an accident, and my in-laws wasted no time filing to have him legally declared deceased. At the funeral, a woman, Xena Xander, suddenly showed up with a young boy, both crying hysterically. The boy, Charlie Lincoln, screamed at the top of his lungs, calling my husband “Daddy.” My ten-year-old daughter, Mia Lincoln, charged at him, shouting, “Shut up! That’s my dad!” Pretending to break it up, my in-laws instead shoved Mia to the ground. She collapsed and passed out on the spot. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself for not giving us a grandson! This family can’t die out without an heir!” Xena smirked at me with blatant provocation. Behind her, Charlie spat in my direction and sneered, “You’re just a worthless tramp nobody cares about.” I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I laughed. “If you want the status and the inheritance so badly, you can have them. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Two weeks later, Xena showed up at my doorstep, covered in blood, banging on the door and screaming. And then, I got a phone call that felt like a nightmare come to life. But I couldn’t have cared less. By then, I was already enjoying a peaceful vacation overseas.

The Dempsey family has two adopted sons. I'm one of them, and the other is Julius Haysworth. On the day Elena Dempsey and Julius get engaged, a car accident leaves her crippled. Julius tearfully breaks off the engagement, while I marry Elena to repay the Dempseys for taking me in. For the next ten years, I wait on her hand and foot, support her rehabilitation, and help her walk again. I even give up my chance to attend college for her. Yet, on the very day Elena regains her mobility and takes over the family business, she announces that she wants to bring Julius home. A wealthy woman has scammed him out of every penny, and Elena now wants to divorce me for him. I confront her in fury, destroy everything in our home, and even beg her to reconsider, but Elena refuses to change her mind. Even my adoptive parents believe that a man without a college education is no longer good enough for the now-successful Elena. I'm so furious that I spit out a mouthful of blood and jump from the top floor of the Dempsey residence. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Elena will choose between Julius and me as her future husband.

When my husband, Louis Banks, was caught in a traffic accident, I was at an interview out of town. By the time I got to the hospital, he had already been declared dead, and was sent to the crematorium. Hearing the news, I fainted on the spot. When I woke up again, I was greeted by the court coming to enforce the auction of all our assets. The reason was that Louis' company had gone into financial troubles, leaving us in massive debt, and I was the only legal representative of the company. Many years later, I found myself begging in the snow with a cracked bowl, and I nearly got run over by a luxury car. To my surprise, the one in the driver's seat was none other than Louis, who was supposed to be dead ages ago! Dressed in designer brands and holding another woman in his arms, he jeered at my filthy stench and appearance, even kicking my bowl to pieces. "You're still alive, huh? I was worried that I couldn't trick someone who graduated from a bigshot university, but you were dumb enough to believe it without questioning it for a second!" He laughed, sneering as he continued, "Thanks for working so hard for us, hahaha!" His words filled me with so much anger that I died on the spot, my eyes glaring at him even in death. Little did I expect that when I came to, I found myself back on the day of his accident!

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?

During my tenth attempt at IVF, I was finally pregnant with triplets. I was extremely excited when I found out that I was pregnant, and I immediately wanted to tell Liam White. That was when I accidentally overheard his conversation with the doctor. “Mr. White, aren’t you afraid that Ms. Scott will find out that you’ve secretly swapped the eggs with Holly’s? “Besides, it’s not good for Ms. Scott to be pregnant with triplets. It’ll be very dangerous for her.” Through the gap of the door, I saw Liam say coldly, “Holly will only become the top supermodel after Evelyn gives birth to triplets and ruins her figure completely. “When Evelyn gives birth to the triplets, I’ll propose to Holly on the same day. “Then, my life will be complete with my career, love, and children. Evelyn is nothing but a surrogate to me.” I stood outside of the door and finally understood how cruel Liam could be. Then, I immediately made a call. “Mandy, I want to join next week’s fashion week.”

My grandfather is hit by a car, and his skull is shattered. I take the driver to court. That's when I find out my husband, Stuart Creed, who was supposedly abroad on a business trip, is suddenly at the hospital. He looks at me coldly and snaps, "Do you have any idea how important Maddy’s valedictorian announcement is? Her future can't be ruined by some car accident! Drop the case right now, or I'll cut off all your credit cards and have your grandfather kicked out of the VIP ward!" He slams the door and storms out. Before that, he snarls, "Come home when you agree. Until then, forget about calling yourself Mrs. Creed!" While I'm out desperately trying to gather money for my grandfather's surgery, a team of lawyers contacts me. Turns out the patent my grandfather once authorized to Creed Group has expired. And now, I'm the new legal owner.

After dating Scott Kenta for 10 years, I said to him, "Scott, I'm pregnant." The file in his hands slipped and hit the floor. He frowned, clearly irritated. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "This is a critical moment—my company's going public. I never planned on having a child." "It's fine. Your career matters more," I said, smiling gently. He didn't catch the meaning behind my words. I was pregnant, yes. But he wasn't the father.

Years after graduation, I walked into a college reunion with a freshly printed wedding invitation in my hand, ready to give it to the man across the table. His eyes turned red as he asked me a question. "Do you remember an upperclassman named Derek Ashford? The one who brought you breakfast every morning and spent hours with you in the library?" I smiled and shook my head. He pressed on. "Do you remember running two miles through a downpour for his birthday? He said he'd love you forever." I frowned instinctively, my hand pausing halfway across the table with the invitation. Nathan Sterling, the boy I'd grown up with, came over and slipped an arm around my waist. "Who's Derek Ashford?" I leaned into Nathan's shoulder and lifted our clasped hands for everyone to see. "Let me introduce you all. This is my husband, Nathan Sterling." The moment those words left my mouth, every pair of eyes in the room turned to the man who had just knocked over his cup of tea. Tea dripped off the table edge onto his pants, but he didn't seem to notice. His gaze was locked on the diamond ring on my finger. His reaction baffled me. Six months earlier, Derek had brought Selene Dawson, his graduate advisor's daughter, back to the apartment we'd prepared for our wedding. She claimed to have amnesia. I ran out into a rainstorm and was hit by an out-of-control truck. When I woke up, every memory of Derek Ashford was gone. The only person left in my world was Nathan Sterling, my childhood sweetheart and the man I had come to love all over again. We had just made it legal at the courthouse.

Seven years into our marriage, Zane Grimes and I remained childless. He once held me close, his voice tender and earnest. "Don't overthink it. I've never cared for children. You're all I want in this life." But on the day his company went public, as the ceremonial bell echoed through the hall, the doors burst open. My sister stormed in, cradling a wailing infant. "Zane, this is your son! How can you abandon us?" Zane's face paled as he turned to me, his eyes brimming with panic and a silent plea. Unbeknownst to him, I had long known about his betrayal and the child.