قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Romance وتضم Male POV وتدور في Awakening

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

My girlfriend was known for being frugal and extremely stingy. When the chicken drumstick I loved went up by a dime, she decided they were too expensive and stopped buying them. When I got sick, she thought drinking warm water would be enough to make me better. Even the marriage certificate's nine-dollar processing fee was too much for her. She thought it was a waste of money. When the marriage certificate finally became free to acquire, I put on the only discounted suit she had been willing to buy for me and arrived at the city hall two hours early. I was eagerly waiting for her. Instead, from a distance, I saw her sitting by the lake with Henry, the male assistant she had hired six months earlier. A street photographer approached with a camera and asked if my girlfriend wanted some photos. Each photo cost a hundred dollars. I thought she would refuse on the spot, curse him for overcharging, and walk away. But she glanced at Henry beside her and said, "Henry, come to think of it, we've never taken a photo together. How about we take some?" Henry waved it off and said it was too expensive. The photographer quickly added that there would be a discount if they took more pictures. My girlfriend calmly retrieved her phone and transferred one grand to him. "No discount needed. Take a hundred photos of me and my junior. Put them in an album." I silently watched as my girlfriend and Henry posed intimately for a hundred photos. The time we'd agreed to meet finally arrived. My phone lit up. [I asked around. Although the marriage certificate itself is free now, we still need to take three ID photos. That's at least twenty dollars. That's enough to pay for one of our meals. Besides, getting the certificate is just a formality. We can still spend our whole lives together without it.] I quietly typed out a reply. [Okay. Let's not get married then.] I didn't want her anymore either.

At the last stop on our trip, my fiancee, Giselle Huberman, drives off while I'm busy taking pictures. I immediately call her, but she doesn't answer. I wander around the attraction, trying to find my way out, but I can't. Just as I start to panic, my best friend, Steven Rudd, posts an update on social media. "Big thanks to my best bro for the free ride, free vacation, and amazing photos!" The post features photos of Steven from the trip, all taken by Giselle. When I zoom in on the landmarks in the background, I realize they're already in the neighboring city. Giselle and I have been together for seven years, yet every date somehow turns into a group outing with Steven. Even our pre-wedding trip is no exception. Just then, a message from Giselle pops up on my phone. "I went to buy some water, and you wandered off to take pictures again? Hurry up and get in the car." I stare at the message for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. She still hasn't realized that I've been gone for five hours.

Marissa Caldwell marries me to save the man she truly loves, Damian Davenhurst. For five years, she never once treats me like her husband. To her friends, I'm nothing more than a fool who comes running whenever she calls and disappears whenever she tells me to leave. "Cyrus Halden, you're basically her lapdog. She calls, you come running. She tells you to leave, and you leave." Whenever they laugh at me like that, Marissa simply smiles and says nothing. Once, when I'm burning up with a fever that won't break, she leaves the country with Damian just to escape her mother's constant nagging. Another time, I drink until I'm vomiting blood from a stomach ulcer during a business dinner while Marissa is upstairs in a presidential suite with him. I endure it all, convincing myself that if I love her enough, one day she'll finally see me as her husband. Then Damian and I are kidnapped on the same day. When she's forced to choose between us, she doesn't hesitate. She abandons me. That is when I finally wake up from my delusion. After five years of loving a woman who has never loved me back, I decide I'm done. I will leave her for good. But the moment she realizes I'm serious, Marissa regrets everything. She grabs my hand, her voice breaking as she begs, "Cyrus, please don't leave me. I'll go crazy without you." I slowly pull my hand from hers. "I can't do this anymore."

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Alessia Pratt, was nowhere to be found. My mom, Lizzie Spencer, looked more and more displeased. I finally stepped out to call Alessia. As I passed a private dining room, I caught a glimpse of her through the door, which hadn't been fully closed. She was having dinner with her first love, Amos Farrell, and his family. Amos's hand slid onto her waist, and he leaned in until his head was against her ear. They looked incredibly intimate. Mom had come out looking for me, and she saw it too. She gave a cold snort. "You treat her like a treasure. You treated her like a treasure and were even willing to give her a share of our family's fortune, worth tens of millions of dollars. And what do you get for it?" I sighed, finally giving up on her for good. "If she doesn't care about it, there's no reason for me to keep throwing it at her."

I was easy to fool. I believed almost everything that people said. During the worst year of my life, a girl in the grade above me tricked me out of my entire living allowance. Juno Halloran split hers with me and helped me get by. She was the only person who had never lied to me. "It's not that you're dumb. Other people are just rotten," she told me. "Stop trusting them. Trust me instead." Then, 1 hour before I was supposed to walk into my grad school entrance exam, she texted me. [I was in a car accident. I'm at the hospital. Get here now.] I rushed to the hospital and found her and her best friend, Brent Ostrow, sitting in the convenience store downstairs, eating nachos. Brent laughed so hard he slapped his thigh. "See? I told you he'd fall for it. One text and he ditches his exam to come running." Juno held a chip to his mouth. "Fine, a bet is a bet. I'll take you to Starfall Park today." I stared at them in disbelief. Juno pulled out a napkin and wiped the sweat from my face. "You're about to graduate, and the world is a nasty place. Consider this lesson number one." My voice shook. "Today's my grad school exam!" Brent rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, Cooper's about to cry. We'd better get him back before he flunks and blames us for it." When she saw my eyes reddening, Juno panicked too. She sped the entire way there and got me to the exam hall with only 1 minute to spare. I had barely breathed a sigh of relief when the proctor stopped me. "Excuse me, your admission ticket is fake. I need you to leave." I looked down at the paper in my hand. At some point, someone had switched out my admission ticket. In its place was a huge drawing of a pig's head with a message scrawled beside it. [Dumbass Cooper, I'm holding on to your ticket! Surprise!] Beneath that was another line. [Don't trip in the same spot twice. That's lesson number two.] It was Brent's handwriting. It was Juno's idea. I still could not tell truth from lies, but I could tell the difference between genuine care and fake concern. From that day forward, I never trusted anyone so easily again.

After my family went bankrupt, my wife, Claire Finley, was drowned in the river by debt collectors. To pay off our debts, I took on a job at an underground casino as a human punching bag. Every punch I took earned me 50 bucks. Then, one day, I'm about to deliver drinks to a private room. Through the crack in the door, I see Claire—supposedly dead—sitting in the seat of honor, leisurely sipping a glass of fine red wine. "It's been over three years since I last saw Nathan. I wonder how he's doing." Dad, dressed in a sharp suit despite our family's so-called bankruptcy, sighs. "He's probably been hiding away, grieving for a few years. Once he gets over it, he can always find someone else. Whatever happens, you and Victor will get to live in peace, so long as he believes you're dead." Victor Gray is Dad's son with his first love. A glance around the private room reveals nothing but familiar faces. My once-close friends are all there, along with the very people who have supposedly killed Claire. So, everything has been a setup from the start. The only thing that has been real is the hell I've endured over the past three years. Balancing 20 bottles of beer in my arms, I smile and shake my head. Once I save up 80 dollars for an urn, they can finally be free of me.

After remarrying Odette Fairbanks, Ezra Whitlock turns into the perfect husband, one who no longer checks up on her or gets jealous. He no longer wakes up early to make her a balanced breakfast, and he no longer shows up at the hospital right on time with a home-cooked lunch for her. Even when he finds a box of ultra-thin condoms on her passenger seat, he quietly puts it away for her and pretends he hasn't seen it. Odette, however, begins to panic and starts volunteering the very explanations she's always been too proud to give.

“Milana, did you secretly marry Miles Garrett while abroad? Does Ernest know about this?" Milana Orr was just touching up her lipstick and staring at her striking reflection in the mirror. Then, she remarked in an utterly unconcerned voice, "Oh, leave it already. I’ve got the call on speakerphone." Her best friend, Clarice Rivers, dropped her voice to a sharp whisper, "Is Ernest with you?" Milana smiled, then turned around to glance at Ernest, who was seated on the couch and waiting for her to finish getting ready. She smiled coyly, "Yeah, he’s sitting right behind me, but it's fine. It's not like he can hear us anyway." After a brief silence, Clarice spoke again, in a slightly sharper tone this time, "He lost his hearing and became disabled because he tried to save you when you tried to end it all by jumping into the river." "That’s exactly why I went and got married overseas instead." A complex look surfaced in Milana's voice as she cut Clarice off. "But I'm going to stay right here in the country, and we’re going to have a grand wedding together in a week. "That's my way of repaying him for taking care of me over the last five years. "As for the actual marriage license... Well, let’s just forget about that for now." Meanwhile, Ernest was clutching the edges of the magazine so tightly the paper crumpled.

After five long years of dating, Winona Shaw finally said yes. I was elated, like a scavenger who'd struck gold. I put everything I had into the engagement party, but out of the blue, Winona embraced Claude Landton instead. She even tried to frame me and boot me to jail. I canceled the party and called the cops instead. That made Winona mad, and Claude started panicking. Icily, I said, "Now, calm down. We have a lot of trials to go through. See you in court."

Melissa Mills, my wife, had allowed her lover to stay in our home for an entire week. Normally, I would've asked her to pay me for putting up with it. This time, I didn't. She must've thought I was finally learning how to be a good husband because she tossed me a check without me requesting one for the first time since… well, ever. "Nathan's moving out later. Pack his things for him. Do it, and the check is yours." That was how things had always worked between us. Every dollar Melissa gave me came at a cost. I would receive 50,000 when she wanted to parade me around as "Melissa Mills' husband." I'd be paid 100,000 to stand by and watch her flirt with Nathan Reid right in front of me. Finally, I was given 300,000 when she wanted the master bedroom for some alone time with Nathan. I'd swallowed my pride and put up with all of it because I needed her money for my mother's medical bills. However, that changed a week ago. My mother couldn't bear watching me humiliate myself for her, so she took her own life. Now, all I had left of her was nearly three pounds of ashes in an urn. There were no medical bills left to pay. So, I no longer had a reason to keep selling what remained of my dignity. Melissa knew none of this. Therefore, I wasn't really listening when she went on about Nathan moving out and told me to pack his things. Instead, I was sitting at a poker table with a few trust-fund guys, tossing another chip into the pot without even looking up. "I'm busy. If you need something, ask Nathan."

After six years together, Isabella McCarthy proposed to Gabriel Hart six times. He accepted all six. But when she proposed for the seventh time, he didn't immediately offer his hand. She looked up at him with sincere eyes, wisps of black hair falling across her forehead as the lights gilded the fine contours of her face. Gabriel looked at her and suddenly gave a sardonic smile. "Does this proposal actually count?"