Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Male POV Romance Awakening

Ruth Jensen is determined to cure Zeke Carlton of his jealous streak. Every time he gets jealous, she buys her assistant, Calvin Ward, a present—everything from jewelry to expensive cars to villas. Zeke goes from throwing hysterical fits to going completely numb. One day, Ruth buys Calvin gifts for the 99th time. She looks at Zeke, who's shaking all over, his face drained of color. She says disdainfully, "Zeke, I can't stand men who are jealous and possessive. If you never learn to be generous and graceful, then I'll just keep treating Calvin well." But this time, Zeke doesn't question her like he usually does, nor does he ask her for money. He's actually gone to the office to pick something up today. To his surprise, he walks right into Ruth throwing a birthday celebration for Calvin there. The place is crammed full of gifts she's gotten Calvin, piled so high there's barely room to walk. At the door, a few workers are hauling in boxes while gossiping. "Careful. These are all this season's new releases Ms. Jensen bought for Mr. Ward. If we break anything, we'll never be able to pay it back!" "How many times has it been this month? Every time Ms. Jensen does this, she buys him stuff worth millions of dollars…" Zeke feels like someone has sliced his heart open. Every time he asks Ruth for money to keep paying his grandmother's medical bills, she always complains. Yet she doesn't even bat an eye when she buys Calvin these insanely expensive luxury goods. Zeke turns to leave, but Ruth frowns and calls out to him. "Are you actually stalking me all the way to the office now? It's Cal's birthday today. Did you deliberately come here dressed like that just to be an eyesore?"

On Christmas Day, Dad shows up at my wife Sophia Walker's law firm, covered in snow. Clutching a crumpled land purchase contract, he stands awkwardly in front of her desk for a long time before finally gathering the courage to speak. "Sophia, I got scammed out of 30 thousand dollars in retirement savings when I bought a plot of land to be buried in. You're a lawyer. Could you take a look at the contract and see if there's any way I can get my money back?" Sophia specializes in contract disputes, but she doesn't even bother to glance at the document. Instead, she sweeps it off her desk and onto the floor. "You came to me over a 30-thousand-dollar scam involving a burial plot? I have actual clients waiting. I can't waste billable hours on this." Dad flinches at her words and hurriedly bends down to pick up the contract, apologizing over and over. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to bother you. I won't take up any more of your time. I'll figure something out myself." My heart aches at the sight. Then my gaze falls on the case files scattered across Sophia's desk. Right on top is a legal brief arguing for an acquittal in Ethan Cole's aggravated assault case. Ethan is her childhood sweetheart. He's gotten into a bar fight and broken three of a woman's ribs. Despite the overwhelming evidence against him, Sophia has spent the entire night poring over legal statutes and drafting more than 30 pages of arguments in an attempt to get him acquitted. Yet when it comes to her father-in-law, she can't even be bothered to look at his contract. I watch Dad shuffle toward the door, his back hunched and his shoulders slumped. Taking a deep breath, I slowly slide the wedding ring off my left ring finger and place it on the corner of Sophia's desk.

My CEO fiancee, Lexi Wyndham, had no patience for incompetence, yet she repeatedly made excuses for her incompetent assistant, Lachlan Hayes. During the hiring process, she noticed that his profile looked remarkably similar to mine. Worried that our rivals might target me, she kept him on as my double, someone who could take my place whenever I was in danger. She bought him designer clothes, took him to exclusive events, and even put my projects under his name to build up his reputation. As time went on, she grew increasingly protective of him, insisting it was all so he would be willing to take my place when the time came. Then tensions with our rival company escalated. Lexi would rather send the bodyguards assigned to protect her to me than let Lachlan stand in for me. In the end, our rivals kidnapped me and locked me in a basement, where they tortured me for ten straight days. By the time I was rescued, there was not a part of me that was not badly injured. I had nearly died down there. The next day, Lachlan was diagnosed with liver disease. Lexi drugged me and forced me into the operating room to donate my liver to him. Her voice was gentle. "Lachlan has to be saved for the moment we truly need him to stand in for you. We can't use him too soon, or they'll get suspicious and everything we've done will be for nothing. "He has to stay alive until the day we need him. I'm making you donate your liver for your own good. Don't overthink it. Once you're discharged, I'll marry you." But she did not know how badly I had been injured. The liver donation only made my condition worse, and I was already dying. I would not live long enough to see the wedding she had promised me.

The day Carly Stein and I make things official, she syncs her phone to my smart weighing scale. Every morning, my body fat percentage and biometric data get uploaded straight to her phone. Whenever my fat slips above 8%, she turns cold. "Lower it to 8%, Danny. Get those muscles razor-sharp, and then we'll get married." For six years, I obsess over every calorie and burn myself out in the gym because of those words. On my birthday, I eat a single slice of regular cake. She immediately flags it on our shared fitness app as a severe loss of control. Now, I finally hit 8%. I have the broad shoulders and narrow waist she demanded. Yet on the day of my custom suit fitting, Carly leaves me waiting in the shop for three hours. Aiden Turner, an old friend, sends a photo. Carly is sitting with him in a barbecue joint, picking onions out of his plate. "Hey Danny, I just got back in town. Carly said you're cutting for the wedding and can't have this stuff, so I didn't invite you." On our app, Carly logs that grease-heavy midnight meal as a "companion day". I open the scale's historical setup logs. That 8% body fat goal was created six years ago—the exact day Aiden moved abroad. There's one line of text in the target notes field that hasn't been completely deleted. "Aiden at his physical peak." I stare at the screen for a long moment, then hit unpair. After that, I go to the suit shop and change the name on the suit reservation to Aiden Turner.

The third time Queenie Stone meets Evan Sutherland's parents, she receives another message from her childhood friend, Joel Lodge. "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland. Something came up. I have to go," she says. Evan reaches out and catches her wrist, frowning. "You have to leave right now? My parents have been preparing for this all day. At least stay and finish dinner." Queenie sets her phone down in front of him. In her chat with Joel are four simple words—"The fog's rolling in". "This is my code with Joel," she explains. "He has depression. Whenever he starts spiraling, he sends me this. We agreed that no matter what I'm doing, I'll drop everything and go to him when I see those words. No exceptions." She sounds so serious, as if Joel will drop dead if she doesn't leave that very second. "Can't you wait until after dinner?" Evan asks. "At most, you'll just need to stay for two more hours." "Evan, Joel doesn't send that code lightly. If he has, it means he's at his limit. If I'm late and something happens to him, I'll never forgive myself. I'm sorry." Queenie turns to Evan's parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland, I need to head out. I'll come by another day to apologize properly." She leaves without another look back. The front door slams shut, making Evan's parents jump. "Did something happen?" his mother asks. "Queenie left in such a hurry." Evan stares at the untouched dishes on the table and forces a stiff smile. Over the last five years, Joel has sent Queenie that code over 700 times. She could be on a movie date with Evan, yet the moment Joel's message comes in, she'll walk out halfway through the film. On New Year's Eve, before the fireworks even go off, she'll ditch Evan to go to Joel. Even when Evan has a 104-degree fever and is lying in bed needing someone to care for him, she'll still rush over to Joel in the middle of the night.

After Yvonne Preston's childhood sweetheart, Oliver Emerson, hits someone while drunk driving, she gets on her knees and begs me to take the fall for him. "Ollie's father saved my life. Can't you endure this for my sake? Once you get out, we'll get married." I nod with tears in my eyes, only to discover after entering prison that my two-month sentence has been turned into six years. I attempt to retract my statement, but all I get in return is a brutal beating. "We've been told to keep a close eye on you. Who the hell do you think you are? You should take a good look at yourself before you start thinking you have a chance with Ms. Preston!" I'm beaten until my eyes are red and swollen, and the last thing I see before I lose consciousness is Yvonne holding Oliver's hand on television as they announce their engagement. My heart turns to stone, and after six agonizing years that feel like an eternity, I'm finally released from prison. However, as I quietly board the train with my luggage, Yvonne's assistant, Juliette Parker, appears in front of me. "Ms. Preston wishes to see you, Mr. Clark," she says respectfully.

On our wedding night, my wife demanded that I wear a blindfold. She said her body was meant only for her true love. The words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I snapped, "Are you my wife or his?" She shot back even louder, defiance blazing in her eyes. "I married you. Does that mean I have to show you my body? Coercion is still coercion, even in marriage. My body is only for Matt to see because you simply don't deserve it." Later, she said she wanted to truly be my wife. I found myself thinking she wasn't worthy anymore.

In my previous life, my girlfriend's childhood friend impersonated a rich heir and messed around with the fake power he had. I exposed him, and he crashed his car into me. In my final moments, my girlfriend's sister begged on her knees, pleading for my girlfriend's aid, hoping she could save me, but my girlfriend did nothing. "He wouldn't do that. Zacharias is beyond this. He would never dirty his hands for a nobody like this guy. He might be my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean he can do anything he wants. He'd better know his place." My girlfriend's sister remained on the ground for three days. In the end, Zacharias dragged her away, violated her, and killed her. Even at my dying breath, my girlfriend was still covering up for her childhood friend. She refused to believe Zacharias hit someone with a car and violated her sister. And then I was reborn. This time, I did not beg and plead for my girlfriend to give me a moment of her time. I called my brother instead. "Hey? Yeah, it's me. Some bastard impersonated me and is dragging my name through the mud. I need you to take that guy out. Also, I'm not marrying Annabelle Lawson. I'm taking her sister instead." I gave the Lawsons a lot of resources so they could grow, and what did I get in the end? An ungrateful woman who would leave me stranded and dying all for another man. With all their resources pulled, Annabelle and her childhood friend would be saying goodbye to their good old days and hello to their personal hell.

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?

The royal family once helped the Foxkin of Moonveil. For generations, the Foxkin had sent their youngest daughters to the royal palace to repay that debt. Each prince had a Foxkin companion who looked after him and kept him safe. My elder brother, Alaric Ashbourne, had a Foxkin who fought fiercely by his side on the frontier for years. In the end, they fell in love and married. My Foxkin was named Evelina Wrenwood. I felt sorry for her. She had left her home and would never be able to return to her clan, so I never restricted her freedom. I always gave her the finest things first, never expecting anything in return. People said I spoiled her rotten, but I pretended not to hear them. Yet Evelina ignored all I did for her and kept urging me to put brotherly love first and entrust Alaric with greater authority. That day, I personally brought her a basket of summer peaches from the southern duchies. But when I stepped out of her room, I saw a swarm of tiny words floating in midair. [That's what you get for chasing a woman who doesn't want you. You end up with nothing!] [Why force Evelina to be yours? Her heart belongs to Prince Alaric. Doesn't he get it?] [She's doing everything she can to put Prince Alaric on the throne. Cassian, the crown prince, is just a fool!]

When Harry Carson is reborn, he finds himself back at 27 years old, married to the richest woman in the world, Laura Jensen, with a son and a daughter. Laura holds the top spot on the Global Wealth Index year after year. The Pinnacle Magazine names her the world's most desirable woman to marry, and even the royal family of Eldoria hopes to arrange a marriage between her and their prince. Everyone says Harry is the luckiest man alive, but the first thing he does is take the divorce agreement straight to Thomas Bright, the man Laura has always loved. He slides the papers across the table and says calmly, "I want a divorce. Laura's yours, and so are the kids." Thomas stares at him in disbelief. He can't believe that Harry, who has been Laura's husband for six years, is suddenly willing to step aside. Harry simply adds, "Since they all prefer you anyway, I'm giving you what you want. Just get Laura to sign the papers. Once the divorce procedures are over, I'll walk away." This time, Harry refuses to repeat the mistakes of his previous life. He's done being "Laura's husband", whom everyone treats as though he doesn't exist. Thomas unconsciously runs his fingers along the rim of his cup, his brows furrowing. "Harry, what the hell are you playing at?" Harry watches the expressions flicker across Thomas' face before calmly repeating himself, "I'm not playing games. I've just had enough." "Harry, do you have any idea how many men out there would kill to be in your position?" "I do." Harry looks him straight in the eye. "That's why I'm giving it to you."

My CEO wife insists on taking a young, fresh intern under her wing. She wants to train him personally. She says to me, "Don't overthink this. I just value his potential." She's always been stern and stoic, but she starts dressing in pink and pulling her hair back in high ponytails. On our third wedding anniversary, she and the intern even willfully disappear for 48 hours. When others are searching for her like mad, she shares photos of her riding a carousel and holding cotton candy. She captions them, "I found the purest of joys in the most joyful of places—all because of you!" Our company loses a huge project because of this, and I lose my wife. I slip a divorce agreement between the pages of the intern's application to become a permanent staff member. My wife signs it without even looking and says, "Knowing what Elliot can do, he's more than capable of carrying out the role of a vice president." I calmly hand her my resignation. "You're right. That's why I'll make way for him."

Someone uses AI to put my face in a pornographic video, and it gets over 20 million views. The day I decide to take legal action, everyone close to me tries to stop me. My childhood friend, Vivian Clark, corners me at the door, warning that suing will only make people believe the video is real. My best friend, Mike Crain, snatches the evidence out of my hands and throws it in the trash, insisting the people behind it are overseas, and the police will never track them down. Even my older brother, Graham Campbell, calls, telling me to think about our parents' health and stop disgracing the family. I take a deep breath. I finally manage to get away and head straight to my girlfriend Wanda Beckham's apartment. She's a lawyer. If anyone will help me clear my name, it's her. But when I walk in, I find her curled up on the couch in the arms of her childhood friend, Everett Patterson. He's casually admitting that he's the one who made the video, brushing it off as a mistake with the AI software. Wanda just laughs and hands him a beer. Vivian and Mike are there too, sipping their drinks as they joke about how Everett should have been the one dating Wanda all along. They say I've been standing in his way for years and had it coming. I freeze in the doorway. The people who ruined my life were right there beside me all along—and I was blind to it.

My wife, Carla Clayton, suddenly develops a serious illness, so I rush to the hospital to donate a kidney to her. But the anesthesia wears off, and I hear Carla tell the nurse, Betty Farrell, to throw the kidney they've removed from me into the trash can after surgery. Unable to bear watching this, Betty says, "Carla, I know your husband, Trevor Draper, refused to throw the match and surrender the championship title back then. "And that drove your first love, Ivan Huston, to jump off a building, leaving him partially paralyzed. But surely you wouldn't go so far as to betray Trevor's love for you just to get back at him, would you?" Carla lets out a sigh. "Trevor was the one who wronged Ivan first, and I promised Ivan I would get justice for him 99 times." "But aren't you afraid Trevor will divorce you if you keep doing this?" "As long as none of you tells him, he won't find out. There are only three times left anyway. Once I've repaid this debt, I'll spend the rest of my life treating Trevor well to make it up to him." My heart turns ice-cold. Since Carla loves Ivan so much, I'll walk away and let them have each other.

When my wife, Hazel Zimmerman, is diagnosed with a terminal disease, she insists on divorcing me just to set me free. I refuse to do so. Instead, I travel all over the world to seek doctors and treatment remedies in hopes of finding Hazel a cure. I keep going at it until I start vomiting blood from exhaustion. But as soon as I reach home, I overhear Hazel bragging to her best friend smugly. "Brandon, that idiot, actually thinks that I really have cancer! I just wanted to use this excuse to divorce him so I could go on a world trip with Nathan. "Once I've had my fun, I'll claim that I'm cured of my disease. Then, I'll remarry Brandon again." "Do you really think Brandon will believe your excuse?" the best friend asks. Hazel just sneers in disdain. "That idiot loves me so much that he can't live without me. Ever since he found out that I have cancer, he's been crying his eyes out. What can he tell, anyway?" When Hazel brings up divorce once again, I don't hesitate to accept it this time.

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

My parents died when I was young, so I grew up by my aunt’s side. What she did not know was that I had been secretly dating her best friend, Yvette, for three years. One night, after Yvette had too much to drink, she looked at me with her hazy eyes. “You should be with someone closer to your own age. How about I find someone for you?” I looked at her deeply and nodded. “Sure.” In my previous life, I refused. I even bravely proclaimed to the entire world that I loved her. Under pressure from her family, Yvette had no choice but to marry me. However, after we were married, she became almost completely indifferent toward me. Even on the day I underwent a heart transplant, Yvette was off sandboarding with the man she had always loved. A love that was forced would never have a happy ending.

Nathaniel Cooper spent ten whole years slowly working his way into Audrey Sinclair's life. At last, he went from being a secret admirer no one knew about to the man she openly acknowledged as her fiancé. But just two weeks before their wedding, he decided to call it off. "I'd like to transfer to the research institute's Northwestern Branch. Please add my name to the list." Nathaniel placed the signed application form on the director's desk and spoke in a calm voice. The director, who had been looking at his computer, looked up in shock. "Nathaniel, aren't you and Audrey getting married next month? We all know you joined the institute to follow her. You're so close to finally getting what you want. Why would you choose to leave for the Northwest at such a critical time?" Nathaniel swallowed the bitterness rising in his chest and cut her off. "Just approve the transfer, please."

Throughout our four years of college, Charlotte Montgomery booked train tickets for me and my buddy, Forrest Croft, whenever we headed back to school or went home for break. She always claimed that getting tickets was a race against the clock, and somehow, the three of us never managed to sit together. Every time the tickets were issued, Forrest would tear into her in our group chat. "Charlotte, can you be any more useless? You managed to book three tickets in three different train cars. Next time, you'd better stand right next to him, even if you have to stand the whole way. Otherwise, you'll answer to me." Charlotte always fired back immediately. "Who the hell do you think you are? I could crouch at his feet, and it still wouldn't be any of your business." I believed them. Even when I spent six hours sitting alone in an uncomfortable seat, or came down with a fever in the middle of the night and called Charlotte more than a dozen times without getting an answer, I assumed she'd fallen asleep in another train car. It wasn't until our graduation trip, when someone asked to switch seats with me. I dragged my suitcase over, only to find Forrest with my jacket draped over his shoulders, his head resting on Charlotte's shoulder as they shared a pair of earbuds. When Charlotte saw me, she simply pulled out one earbud and sat up straight. "Let's get one thing straight. We've always been careful not to give people the wrong idea. I only kept it from you because I was afraid you'd feel uneasy if you knew we'd be sitting next to each other for six hours." Forrest patted the seat beside him. "I'm your buddy. Isn't it better to have me keep an eye on your girlfriend, rather than some random guy sitting next to her?" Just then, a smiling train attendant came over and handed them a matching set of luggage tags. "According to our system, you two have sat next to each other on all 16 round trips throughout your four years at college. We'd like to give you this souvenir to commemorate that." Only after she'd finished speaking did she notice me. She glanced down at the booking details again. "This is your friend who booked tickets with you, too, right? How come he's the one sitting alone every time, even though all three of you book your tickets together?" The entire train car fell silent. I looked at Charlotte's pale face, realizing something. They had never once been separated from each other. For four years, I'd been left out every single time.

On my birthday, Genevieve Rothwell posted a photo with her male executive assistant, Ethan Kline. They were wearing matching rings. [Partners at work. Partners in life.] I commented: [You two make a great couple.] Genevieve called me right away, yelling that I was sick in the head and couldn't take a joke. Before she'd even hung up, she was gently comforting Ethan, who was tearfully blaming himself. Before, I'd have stormed over there and thrown a hysterical fit, making a fool of myself in front of everyone. But this time, I felt nothing. I couldn't have cared less.