Maiikling Kwento tungkol sa Tragic Love at Romance, at mga Nobela ng Independence na may Face Slapping

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."

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.

In saving Aspen Reid, I went blind. She said she would be my eyes forever and watch all the scenery that I would not be able to enjoy anymore. She taught me how to read braille and gave me a lot of love. I thought this was the best love ever. That was until my best friend, Liam Anderson, returned to the country. When we were travelling, she held Liam’s hand. I lost her and immediately called after her, but she said, “Ted, you’ve been blind for three years. Liam said you shouldn’t always rely on me. The hike down isn’t too difficult. You should be able to navigate the way out on your own.” She was right. She did not need to take responsibility for me. From then on, I decided that I would no longer need her.

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.

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."

Three months after my fiancé disappeared, I saw him at the airport, his arm around a girl. He laughed smugly, "Thanks to my buddies, coming up with that plan. Otherwise, how would I get to spend every day with you? Won't go back until you're pregnant. Let that old ball-and-chain keep searching." I didn't rush over to confront him; I just watched them in complete silence. Back home, I wrapped my arms around his brother's neck and whispered bitterly, "Harry is gone, but your family needs an heir."

I marry the comatose heir of Jebony's most affluent family for the ten million dollars in wedding gifts. In the year after the wedding, I undergo 12 rounds of IVF and finally give birth to the Larkin family's successor. When our son turns five, Jacob Larkin miraculously wakes up. The media goes wild, calling me the Larkin family's lucky star. They say I'll live a life of endless privilege. I merely smile—the first look Jacob gives me after waking up is one full of disdain. He even warns me icily, "You're nothing more than a woman my father paid to bear me an heir. Don't kid yourself that I'll ever fall for you! "I grew up with Angela. If not for that accident, you would never have become my wife." I hand him the divorce papers and say calmly, "I'll step aside, then. I'll give you and Ms. Lloyd what you want."

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?"

Climbing a snow mountain is the engagement trip Amber Garcia and I planned together. The night before we set out, our guide, Mike Marlowe, found an extra set of thermal gear while taking inventory. "Captain Garcia, who's this for?" Everyone's eyes turned to me. After all, the whole team knew this climb is supposed to be a special trip for the two of us. Amber glanced at our junior teammate, Theo Yorkson, who was crouched in the corner, shivering from the cold. Her voice was gentle and casual. "Give it to him. It's his first time at high altitude. The gear will come in handy for him." Theo awkwardly took the gear with both hands. "Thank you so much, Amber." Mike paused, then said nothing more. When my friend, Charlie Jameson, called on the satellite phone, he sounded so furious that it was as if he could crush the phone in his hand. "Aren't you two supposed to propose to each other at the summit? Why is she bringing Theo along again?" I smiled and swallowed the bitterness in my throat. "Don't worry. The plan hasn't changed." I'll make it to the summit, and I'll wait for her to propose. If Amber doesn't want to give me that moment, then so be it.

At the reunion, someone asked when I was getting married. Grinning, I pulled out the invites. "Mid-October. Be there." Cheers broke out. Everyone peeked at the girl next to me. "You've been with Daphne forever, right? Finally making it official?" Daphne hurled her drink at me. "Ethan Everett, is this your idea of pressuring me into marriage?" The room froze. I wiped my face, cool as ever, and opened the invite in front of her. "Maybe check the name. It doesn't say you're the bride."

The day before our wedding, Luke Murray got wasted. On the ride home, he looked right at me and slurred, "Cassie, don't bring the kid to the ceremony. Arya can't know I'm the dad." I hit the brakes. Hard. He smacked into the seatback, halfway sobering up. When he finally realized it was me, he just... froze. Then he said real slow, "Guess you heard. Wedding's off—for now. Cassie doesn't want marriage, but the kid's mine, so I gotta step up. She's your bestie, right? You probably feel bad she's doing this alone. So once he's in school, I'll come back and marry you." I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "...That's fine. I don't mind." He didn't say a word when we got home—just grabbed his suitcase and left. I wiped the last tear off my face, sat on the bed, and just stared at nothing. Then my phone lit up. My childhood friend's voice cracked on the other end. "Arya, don't marry him. Please." I didn't say anything for a sec. "Okay."

In the year I came of age, my father, the King, intended to confer upon me the title of Princess of the State. My mother suggested that good things come in pairs, and proposed that a prince consort be named on the same day as my coronation. The court selected four proper young nobles. I would decide my choice by drawing lots. In my previous timeline, without hesitation, I had chosen Henry Lapointe, the heir to the Duke’s mansion, whom I had long admired, as my prince consort. But after we were married, I learned that he had a beloved. She was a woman who was said to possess the beauty of a goddess. She slashed her face eighteen times and sold herself into servitude at the Princess’s residence just to stay by his side. For years after our marriage, his heart would twist in agony every time he saw that woman. He believed that I had used my power to force her to disfigure herself and become a lowly servant to prevent them from being together. To seek revenge, he secretly poisoned me with a slow-acting toxin and conspired with his beloved to betray the capital’s defense maps. This led to the Ubury empire’s territory being seized, and I was forced into prison. He ordered men to force-feed me the poison day and night, which compelled me to serve dozens of perverted old guards. They literally tortured me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the Prince Consort selection. Amidst the uproar in the court, I drew the lot for Justin Yale, the hostage prince with the weakest political base. But on the day the royal decree was issued, Henry broke down.

Ever since I was little, my taste buds seemed off. Whenever my family shared a watermelon, the others all raved about how sweet and refreshing it was. Yet no matter how many times I tasted it, the watermelon always struck me as bland, with a faint trace of sourness. I could never bring myself to enjoy it. Eventually, I stopped eating watermelon altogether. That was until the new summer break, when I dragged my heavy suitcase home, drenched in sweat, and spotted several slices of watermelon sitting on the table. To quench my thirst, I picked up a slice and popped it into my mouth. A burst of rich, sugary juice immediately exploded across my tongue. Just as I caught myself wondering when watermelon had ever tasted this amazing, my sister saw it and snatched the tray right out of my hand. "Why are you eating Buster's watermelon?" "What? Who is Buster?" She pointed to the number labeled on the tray. "Buster is the puppy I got this year. You're not Number 5 in this house anymore. Buster is!" In our family, everyone had a designated number. My dad was Number 1. My mom was Number 2. My brother was Number 3. My sister was Number 4, and I was Number 5. Before I could even process that my number had been handed off to a dog, my mother stepped into the living room. Spotting me, she said cheerfully, "Oh, you're eating watermelon again? That's great! Now those rinds won't go to waste anymore." Looking down at the watermelon rinds tossed in the trash can, I finally understood. There was never anything wrong with my taste buds. It was simply that over all these years, the sweet, tender heart of the watermelon—and the love tucked inside it—had never once been given to me. That very evening, I signed the agreement to join the Mistolstone Research Institution. I'd never return home where I was treated worse than a dog.

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.

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?

After stealing 3,000 dollars, Eloise Maguire is taken to the main hall by her husband, Zander Pierson, to face punishment. Chase Pierson, the Pierson family elder, glances uneasily at her pregnant belly. "Our family has stood for a hundred years and is wealthy beyond measure. Eloise is eight months pregnant. Is there really a need to make such a fuss over 3,000 dollars?" Zander is dressed in a dark gray overcoat, which only accentuates his tall, commanding figure. His distant eyes and cold voice make it clear there will be no room for leniency. "Julia manages the household. If Eloise needs money, she can ask her for it. Instead, she goes behind her back and takes the money without permission. Even if it's only 3,000 dollars, taking it without permission is still theft. "We have rules in this family. Anyone who steals is punished by having all ten fingers crushed. As my wife, she should set an example, not giving the younger ones a reason to break the rules." Chase is at a loss for words. He can only urge Eloise to plead for mercy. But Eloise doesn't even spare Zander a glance. She supports her lower back as she slowly walks into the room. "I accept my punishment," she says calmly. "Eloise, have you lost your mind?" Chase hurries after her. "The punishment is having all ten fingers crushed in a finger clamp. Even a man couldn't endure that kind of torture! "Zander may be strict about the family rules, but you're his wife. He won't treat you like everyone else. Just beg him for mercy…" Eloise says nothing. She simply places her fingers into the clamp. The housekeeper pulls the rope tight, and a searing pain tears through her entire body. Cold sweat trickles down Eloise's forehead as her thoughts begin to blur. In this lifetime, she steals money twice. The first time is five years ago, when Zander is struggling to deal with the trouble caused by his sworn enemy. Eloise returns to her father, James Maguire's, house and takes the entire inheritance her mother left her from the family safe. Her father beats her so badly that she ends up with three broken ribs. She struggles back to Zander and hands him the bank card containing her entire fortune, telling him to use it to deal with his troubles. For once, even Zander, known for being cold and reserved, is visibly stunned.

On our anniversary, Gus King overslept again. When he woke up, I was curling my lashes in front of the mirror. He looked apologetic. “I’m still adjusting to the time difference. Please try to understand.” For the past month, he and a junior labmate had been traveling around the world collecting marine samples. I calmly put away my mascara. “It’s fine. I made plans with a friend instead. This makeup is too nice to let go to waste.” He relaxed, though his expression turned a little strange. After all, in the past, I would have thrown a fit and cried at him. Gus hugged me from behind and smiled. “You’re getting so mature, sweetheart. By the way, I saw the new photos you posted. Where did you go?” “Oh, Seaview City,” I said casually. “While you were away in the North Isles.” He froze. I’d spent the whole first year of our relationship begging Gus to take me to Seaview City to see the ocean. He always said he’d take me when he had time. For our second, third, and fourth anniversaries, he kept telling me to be more understanding, then headed off with his junior labmate to their next destination. In the fifth year of our relationship, I suddenly stopped waiting. It turned out that traveling alone was pretty fun too.

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.

An hour before the college application deadline, I jolt awake in my hotel room in Chanont. My girlfriend, Evelyn Keate, and my adopted brother, Marvin Needham, are nowhere to be seen. I immediately call them, reminding them to get their applications in before the deadline. To my surprise, they burst out laughing. "We're already back home, and we got our applications in last night. You still haven't submitted yours?" I can hear my parents criticizing me in the background. My mom said, "He's always like this. He's so careless that he doesn't even take his own future seriously." "Marvin has always been so much easier," my dad remarked. Laughter and chatter fill the other end of the line, while I begin to shake with panic. I almost miss the deadline. After receiving our exam results, the three of us agree to apply to the same college. Marvin can't make up his mind, so Evelyn patiently indulges him and says, "There's no rush. We'll take our time and help you pick." However, she casually brushes me off. "Just go with whatever we choose and enjoy yourself in Chanont for the next few days." Just then, my phone buzzes. Evelyn sends me the application code for Solridge University. "Hurry up, or you'll miss the deadline." I stare at the application page, my eyes stinging with tears. My score is much higher than theirs, and I can get into a better college. It turns out that the compromise I'm making doesn't matter to anyone at all. With one second left before the deadline, I click the submit button and apply to Harburt University, the school farthest from home. The three of us are one too many, so I choose to walk away.

The day Brianna Lindt is supposed to meet my adoptive parents, her phone stays off the entire day. Just the night before, she confidently promises that, as their future daughter-in-law, she'll win Mom and Dad over. But even after the server comes in for the sixth time to refill our drinks, I still can't reach her. A few hours later, I stumble upon a new post from Brianna's assistant, Elliot Collins. In the photo, Brianna is surrounded by shopping bags full of high-end gifts as she chats over drinks with his family. The caption reads, "My family's been hounding me to get married, so huge thanks to my boss for coming to the rescue and pretending to be my girlfriend." Brianna finally arrives at the restaurant that evening. "Michael, I'm sorry I'm late. Something urgent came up at work, and I had to deal with it." She takes my ice-cold hand in hers and soothes me in a gentle voice. "Knowing I was meeting Mr. and Mrs. Pearson today made me so nervous last night that I completely forgot to plug in my phone, so it stayed dead all day. Can you reschedule with your parents for another time, please?" We've been together for seven years, yet she can't even tell me the truth. Furthermore, the so-called work emergency is merely pretending to be Elliot's girlfriend so he can get his family off his back. Years of built-up disappointment finally spill over. I gently pull my hand away from hers, slip off my engagement ring, and say, "Let's call off the wedding. You can play his girlfriend for the rest of your life."