Tragic Love Romance 단편 소설 & Independence Face Slapping 소설

My fiancé Damian Crowley and I'd been together for six years. But the night before my wedding, he demanded that I let my twin sister, Chloe Lambert, take my place as the bride. "Chloe doesn't have much time left. This is her only dream. Think of it as granting your sister's last wish." My own parents jabbed their fingers in my face and yelled at me too. They said I owed Chloe my life. It was only a wedding, they said, and I should stop being so selfish. Three years ago, I'd slipped and fallen into the water, and Chloe had supposedly risked her life to save me. She'd been in fragile health ever since. From then on, my family blamed me for everything. I walked on eggshells around them and gave Chloe whatever she wanted to repay that debt. I told myself I owed her, so I gave in to every demand, no matter how unreasonable. Now they wanted me to give up my wedding too. I looked at Chloe hiding behind my fiancé, barely able to keep the triumph off her face. My fingers closed around the contents of my bag: a falsified medical record with an official hospital stamp and proof of what had really happened three years ago. I smiled coldly and nodded. This time, I wouldn't just give them what they wanted. I'd give them a wedding the whole city would talk about.

"Be good. Relax..." A man's warm hand pressed against the woman's waist. Ian Gibson leaned over, ready to go. However, the woman suddenly bit him hard on the earlobe, killing his mood. "Ian, have you gotten this far with my sister before?" Seeing Ian's astonishment, Tammy Palmer raised an eyebrow and watched with a teasing smile as the redness spread from the tips of his ears down to his neck. "Ian, can my sister make you feel as good as I do? You should break off your engagement to her and marry me instead. "You don't want everyone tomorrow to be talking about how Mr. Gibson stole his sister-in-law's innocence!" Memories flooded Ian's head. He finally came to his senses, and a dull pain stabbed at his heart. In his previous life, he and his younger stepbrother, Anthony Shaw, were both engaged to the Palmer twin sisters. However, an intimate video of him was leaked to the media on the eve of his wedding to Selena Palmer. That was when he realized the woman he had spent the night with was not his fiancée but her younger sister, Tammy!

Everyone said my wife and I were deeply in love. Even after she had built a successful career and founded her own music company, she still came with me to my hometown for the Christmas-New Year's holiday and handed out lavish presents to all the younger relatives. Only I knew that she was no longer the woman she had once been. After we had a few rounds of drinks, my younger cousin started clamoring for karaoke. While Regina Lockwood was in the bathroom, I took her phone to queue up some songs for everyone. That was when I noticed the music app was still open to a shared listening session. One account, its avatar a comic-book hero, had spent more than 2,600 hours listening together with Regina. Even as she smiled and piled food onto my plate, raising her glass to toast our relatives, that shared listening session remained running in her earphones—keeping her connected to a world that belonged only to her and another man. Just then, the bathroom door opened. Regina walked out, rubbing hand cream into her hands, an elegant, composed smile still on her face. "Honey, why are you holding my phone? Were you checking up on me?"

My girlfriend, Selena Jenkins, and I are committed to a strict 50-50 relationship. We are three years into our relationship, and we split everything down to a single bottle of water. Then, out of nowhere, I get a call from a kidnapper. "We have your girlfriend. Have 150 thousand dollars ready, or she dies!" I calmly launch our app, SplitMate. According to the algorithm, this unexpected incident falls under "shared risk", meaning she is responsible for 50% of the cost. However, after factoring in the personal insurance policy I took out on her behalf, she only needs to pay 35,550 dollars. I send the calculation results to the kidnapper. "This is her share. Please contact her family for the payment. I'm only responsible for my own portion." The line goes silent. A few minutes later, I receive a livestream link. The livestream shows Selena tied to a chair, smiling at her phone. The live chat in front of her is blowing up. "Holy shit! This guy's a monster. This is the craziest livestream I've seen all year!" Later on, she follows the 50-50 rule to a T, but I'm no longer on board with it.

It took me ten years to go from secretly loving Zane Shaw from afar to becoming his fiancée. For an entire decade, I lived like his shadow. I followed wherever he went and abandoned the future I had once planned for myself. Everyone said Tessa Stone loved Zane so much that she had lost herself in him. They were right. Everyone at the architecture firm knew that years ago, I'd given up a guaranteed spot at a prestigious STEM university and thrown myself into a field I knew nothing about, all for the chance to stand a little closer to him. And through it all, Zane remained as distant and indifferent toward me as ever. Except for that one time.

Jasper Eaton decides to ditch me at the altar just so he can meet up with Wendy Klein, his ex-girlfriend who abandoned him when he almost got crippled five years ago. All the guests are stunned, to say the least. I can only tug at Jasper's hem of his shirt while trying very hard to keep my expression intact. "Can you please stay with me now?" Mixed feelings cross his eyes, but he soon wrenches my hand off him, finger by finger. At the same time, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I must go now. I need to ask Wendy why she was so heartless to me back then." Amid the crowd's shocked gasps and murmurs, Jasper leaves without even looking back. My dad, who has a bad heart, trembles violently out of fury. I can only stare in a shocked daze as he collapses to the floor shortly after. "Dad!" I break down on the spot. Still, I manage to send him to the hospital. There, I slump outside the emergency room. At that moment, my phone buzzes for a short while. Two new text messages have shown up on my screen. The first message comes from Wendy. "I told you that as long as I'm back, Jasper will never choose you. You lost again, Celeste." The second message comes from Jasper. "Give me 30 days. We'll break up for the time being. Once the period is over, I'll definitely love you and you only." My gaze is already hollow at that point. The smile curving on my lips is one of mockery and bitterness. This time, I will never lose ever again.

Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father. At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her. She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her. But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it. He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love. Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie. Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death. But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.

When I was five, the wealthy Whitmores adopted me from an orphanage so their only son, Caleb, would have someone to grow up with. The first time we met, Caleb pulled his best friend Audrey Ellis over and gave me half his candy. After that, the three of us were inseparable. That changed in the summer after our college entrance exams, when Audrey confessed her feelings to me—and I accepted. Caleb quietly chose a university a thousand miles away. The night before he was supposed to leave, he went drinking alone. Someone dragged him into the alley behind the bar and beat and humiliated him until he died. Audrey and I spent the next two decades burdened by guilt. At forty, I was diagnosed with ALS. The night before I died, she held me and cried so hard she shook. "Julian, I love you. I always have." "But if there is a next life, I have to stay with Caleb. I can't let anything happen to him again." When I opened my eyes, I was back. I had returned to the day Audrey was going to tell me she loved me.

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

At the wedding I've spent months planning, my usually stoic fiancé, Anthony Scott, is about to run off with his assistant, Erica Jones. To top it all off, she is wearing a wedding gown. Out of nowhere, his younger brother, Christopher Scott, grabs my hand and plans to pull me straight to City Hall. He disregards my panicking eyes. "Let's get married," he says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Then, the stage decorations suddenly collapse, revealing a room full of guests mocking and laughing at me. The two men who once swore to love me forever do all just to make Erica smile. The three of them clink glasses and drink a love toast on stage, completely lost in their own moment. "The wedding you planned was way too outdated. You should thank Erica for turning it into a bachelorette party!" "The real wedding will be this Sunday. Isn't Erica's idea amazing?" Anthony and Christopher were confident that I wouldn't dare leave them. But I quietly pick up my phone and type a message. "Let's set the wedding date for this Sunday, Levi."

I was always a step behind, while Ryan Walker, my childhood friend, and Claire Morgan, my best friend, were always in a rush. Whenever we ate together, they would finish before I was even halfway through. Then they would start talking about heading to the gaming lounge next door and leave me sitting alone in the restaurant. Once, while we were swimming, my leg cramped halfway across the pool. I called out for help, only to realize they had already gotten out and left. When it was time to submit our college applications, I had not even logged in when they submitted theirs and got up to leave. "Wendy, you take forever. I need to help Claire snag concert tickets, so we're leaving without you. "Claire and I both applied to Eastbridge University. Make sure you apply there too." As soon as Ryan finished speaking, Claire grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. They left in such a hurry that he never heard me say, "I'm not applying to Eastbridge University. "You won't ever have to wait for me again."

My best friend, Mandy Cooper, and my boyfriend, Logan Bennett, had been at each other's throats since freshman year of college. Years ago, a careless mistake of Mandy’s indirectly led to the death of Logan’s best friend. Ever since that day, Logan made it his life's mission to wreck every ounce of happiness she ever tried to build. The day he crashed her third attempt at a wedding, I had just gotten back from studying abroad. Right in the middle of the chaos and shouting, Logan’s eyes locked onto mine from across the crowded room. It was love at first sight. Now, five years into our relationship, he was still obsessively scheming to ruin Mandy’s ninth wedding. I’ve begged him to drop it a million times, but he always shuts me down with the same stone-cold answer—"She doesn't deserve to be happy." Mandy came to my place in tears, begging for help. She planned to sneak off and throw a low-key wedding out of the country, scheduling it for the exact day Logan was supposed to fly back from his business trip. She needed me to keep tabs on him at home. "Maya, please. This guy is a total catch. He's a college guy, hot enough to be an actor, and I’m going to marry him. You have to help me keep Logan off my back." I promised her I would. To stall Logan, I blew up his phone asking when his flight was landing, but I didn't get a single reply. Then I opened Instagram and scrolled past a photo from Mandy's wedding. Standing right beside her, caught in a grainy side-profile shot, was Logan. The truth hit me like a physical punch. Five years of love, and every second of it was a sick joke. Just as my chest tightened with a numb, hollow ache, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a ridiculously handsome guy standing on my doorstep, dressed in a sharp tuxedo. "Hey," he said, offering a casual smile, "I’m the rent-a-groom Ms. Cooper hired. I'm here for the gig." I stared at him, and suddenly, a quiet laugh bubbled up in my chest. If Logan could turn around and tie the knot with Mandy, why on earth should I turn down a fake husband dropped right on my doorstep?

On the day my wife, Rachel Carter, receives her Ph.D., I rush back from overseas. But when I approach her with a carefully chosen gift, she slaps me in front of everyone. "I'm a married woman with a family of my own. Stop trying to make me your lover!" I watch as she turns away from me and makes her way over to a family of four. "Honey, Mom, Dad, don't mind him. This man is crazy. Let's go," she says gently. Refusing to give up, I catch up to her and grab her arm. "What happened, Rach?" I ask. "Who's this scary man, Mommy?" a child asks. "Why does he keep bothering you?" Rachel yanks her hand away and pulls out her phone. "I've already called the police. Stop harassing me, you piece of trash!" As I stare at her retreating figure, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washes over me. I pull out my phone and make a call. "Notify headquarters, William. Cancel all plans to relocate our global headquarters back to Jekovia." After I hang up, I toss the gift into a nearby trash can and walk away without looking back.

Ryan Becker's favorite phrase was always, "Just wait a little longer." I waited two years for his startup to stabilize so we could get married. I waited another three years for his mother to warm up to the idea of a wedding. On the night of his 30th birthday dinner, his mother slipped her emerald bracelet off her wrist in front of everyone. Passing down the heirloom was their old tradition for recognizing a daughter-in-law. I thought that this time, finally, I wouldn't have to wait anymore. "Give me your hand, dear." Yet Aurelie Becker reached right past me and smoothly fastened the bracelet around Sabine Hansen's wrist instead. The entire room fell dead silent. She patted the back of Sabine's hand warmly. "Sabine grew up with Ryan. We're all one family here, no distinctions between us." My hands were still resting on the table, my fingertips turning cold. Someone whispered, "What about Miss Solis?" Ryan leaned in close, lowering his voice. "My mom is just being sentimental. Don't take it to heart. I'll bring you a custom necklace from my business trip next month. Just wait a little longer, okay?" Sabine lifted her wrist, flaunting it right in front of my face with a provocative smile. "Look, Eliza, isn't it beautiful? Aurelie says it's an old-mine emerald." "It's beautiful," I said simply. Just then, the phone inside my bag vibrated. It was a text message that read: [Have you made up your mind? When are you coming to Phaelis?]

A sudden burst of screams erupted in the living room at 3 AM. I pushed open the door to hear the commentator announcing that my fiancé Noah Lucas' favorite team had advanced to the quarter-finals. Our best friend, Jessie Newman, jumped up excitedly and kissed Noah on the cheek. I would be taking wedding photos with Noah in another five hours. The hangover soup on the table had long since gone cold, with a cigarette butt floating in it. I could not help coughing. The two of them froze mid-conversation. Jessie realized what it looked like and stepped over the wine bottles on the floor with her fair legs. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, too. Her voice was gentle and innocent. "Lola, why are you awake? Don't overthink. I've been best friends with Noah since kindergarten. We were just messing around! Noah was too noisy, wasn't he? I'll teach him a lesson for you." Noah casually tossed a cushion at her, hitting her squarely on her bottom, and teased with a laugh, "You're blaming me? You were the one shouting!" Then, he nonchalantly reassured me, "Lola, we're about to take our wedding photos soon. Go and get some more sleep. We'll turn the volume down." There was no apology or explanation. They were just trying to brush me off, as always. They assumed I was being paranoid and petty, tainting their 20-year friendship by overthinking. I loosened my grip on my nightgown. "It's okay. You guys continue." I had had enough of this three-person farce. I was done.

My two childhood friends act like they don't see anything when their assistant locks me in a cold storage. They're filled with regret when I thoroughly vanish.

Right after I had my uterine scraping procedure, Ian called. "Construction on Tina's new home officially starts today. I'm going over to keep an eye on things, so don't wait for me for dinner. "You're on your period today. Don't wander around outside for too long. Go home and get some rest." I touched my flat stomach and couldn't speak for a long time. All this time, Ian and Tina had been the design firm's poster children. One was a specialist in hard finishes, while the other was a prodigy in soft furnishings. Even our marital home had been designed by the two of them working together. But every time we discussed the plans, Ian would pull out another set of blueprints he had painstakingly refined and patiently explain to Tina the entire hardscape design he had created specifically for her new home. Every detail was a perfect replica of the dream house he and I had once imagined together. "Tina lives alone, and the house is small. Designing it for her is no big deal. "Besides, you're not pregnant yet. Once we have a baby, we can renovate the entire house, including the nursery, all at once. It'll save us trouble." For the sake of 'saving us trouble,' I had waited three years in a house where not even the walls had been painted. All I got in return were Ian's repeated excuses and empty promises. He didn't even know I was pregnant. He had mistaken the symptoms of my threatened miscarriage for a normal period. Tina's flirty voice came through the phone. "Ian, don't slack off! Come help me double-check the measurements we left for the bathroom cabinets!" The call ended abruptly. I took a deep breath as I listened to the harsh beeping tone. After waiting three years for this unfinished house, I suddenly didn't want to wait anymore.

At a party the night before Aiden and I are supposed to officially get engaged, someone starts a round of "Never Have I Ever." One of my fiancé's friends raises his glass. "Never have I ever gotten my fiancée's best friend pregnant before getting engaged." The room goes dead silent for a second. Then everyone bursts out laughing. I pretend I don't hear a thing and keep feeding my fiancé, Aiden Bassett, pieces of fruit like he's the only person in the room. Aiden takes a slow sip of his drink, then looks over at my best friend, Sharon Moore, his expression soft. "Sharon's always wanted a baby, but she never wants to get married. I just helped her out." Sharon looks away shyly. "Okay, enough. Renee's right here." My fingers tighten around my glass. That's when it finally hits me that they're talking about Aiden. The second his friends notice my reaction, they rush to smooth things over. "Renee, don't be upset. You're so good to Aiden. You're sweet, and you've always got everything handled. We just didn't want to keep this from you!" "Honestly, Aiden did you a favor too. If you're okay with it, you get a baby without ever having to go through pregnancy yourself. Sounds like a pretty good deal, doesn't it?" "Exactly. Sharon and Aiden have known each other forever. She's practically family." I don't cry or make a scene. I just smile, stand up, and give up my place beside my fiancé. What they don't know is that I only play the good girl when it benefits me. I'm not obligated to raise someone else's baby.

My husband, David Klaus, was a top surgeon with a strict rule: he didn't treat family. Conflict of interest, he said. Absolute professional ethics. He only broke that rule three times. The first was when severe period pain made me pass out, and he finally wrote me a sick note. The second was when my mother’s emergency surgery couldn't wait, and he allowed her into his hospital. The third was when I had a miscarriage risk, and he stepped in to save our baby. I should have felt grateful. But I didn't. Because he didn't break his rule for me. He broke it for my best friend, Wendy. All it took was a single phone call from her. "David, be good. Seeing her in pain hurts me too, and it won't ruin your reputation." And just like that, the unyielding doctor gave in for her. Afterward, he always looked at me with resentful eyes. "I keep breaking my boundaries for you." Waking up after surgery, I watched through the glass as they laughed together. She told him to stop being so rigid. He smiled and promised he would try. He never broke his rules for his wife. He broke them for her. And from then on, I didn't want his pity anymore. ---