Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Male POV Romance Family Emotions

On my birthday, my girlfriend of ten years, Bella Dixon, tells me she wants to propose. I arrived at the spot, overjoyed, only to see smoke everywhere as my mom, Hannah Moore, screams from inside the house. Trauma from the fire three years ago overwhelms me again, leaving me breathless. To save Mom, I claw my hands raw over the short distance of 16 feet, leaving a trail of blood behind me. When I throw open the door, trembling, I see Mom laughing heartily with her godson, Jasper Wilder. Disgust fills her eyes when she sees how pale I am. "Thanks to Jasper's exposure therapy, you're finally desensitized. Hurry up and thank him." Jasper turns off the sound effects on his phone and leans against Bella's shoulder, laughing and giving me a playful wink. "Jason was such a good sport. Though all that blood, ash and bodily waste was pretty disgusting. Hannah, thanks for your support. I finally have enough material for my PTSD treatment case study." Bella steadies Jasper, then meets my disbelieving gaze. She says casually, "Jasper is only trying to help you. Instead of avoiding it, facing a real-life situation like this is much more effective." The sight before me makes my breath hitch, and I can't even form a complete sentence. "Alright, go clean yourself up. Hannah and I are taking Jasper out to celebrate first." As I watch the three of them leave, my legs finally give out, and I slump to the floor. I have PTSD from that fire years ago, when I tried to save her. Yet she shows me no sympathy and thinks of me as a burden. Even Mom is willing to put on an act with an outsider and use my traumatic experience as research material. In that case, I may as well leave your world for good.

My wife's childhood best friend returned from overseas with a child. To protect his reputation and secure the boy's future, she told everyone that she was the child's mother. And my child? She claimed that my daughter was the bastard I had brought home after fooling around behind her back. When I finally broke down and demanded an explanation, she remained as calm as ever. "Bryan has always had it hard at home," she said. "And his son cannot grow up without a mother. I have to help them." That day, I looked at the woman I had loved for seven years and decided that I would never love her again.

At Opaline Corp, the lowest-performing employee had to eat a plate of pasta mixed with live worms. This time, Tristan Crocker lost three clients and landed dead last. To keep Tristan from feeling singled out, my wife, Wendy Kline, hit me with a nine-million-dollar performance penalty because I showed up one minute late while sick—even though I'd brought in three million in revenue. Just like that, I became the first employee in company history with negative earnings. Grinning, Tristan shoved the plate toward me. "Wendy updated the company rules last night to keep everyone in line. Anyone who's late gets penalized three times their performance. You always said mistakes deserve punishment. Now that it's your turn, you're not backing out, right?" Every eye in the room locked on me, waiting for me to lose it. Wendy quickly sent me a message: [The nine million is only on paper. It's not a real fine. With your talent, you'll earn it back in three months. Tristan's allergic to worms. If he ends up in the hospital over a punishment, it'll damage the company's reputation. And if people hear we punished an outsider, that'll look even worse.] [You're my husband. You're one of us. I love you, which is why I'm giving you the chance to show some leadership.] [Once this blows over, I'll give you an extra twenty dollars a month, okay?] When I didn't reply, she finally snapped. "Company rules apply to everyone, even the top performer. If you don't like it, you're free to leave." I nodded, unclipped my badge, and set it on the table. "Fine. I quit." I looked at her. "And while we're at it, let's get divorced."

My bride went missing on the night of our big day but woke up in my brother's room the next day. My parents persuaded me to ignore it for the sake of fame but scolded my wife as an easy girl. Angrily, I moved out of the villa with my wife. Soon after, my wife had a miscarriage and suffered from depression due to gossip. She jumped off from the top floor in front of me. Desperately, I followed her. Opening my eyes again, I found myself back to the time when the wedding ended.

Before my mother died, she arranged a marriage for me. My bride-to-be was Rosalind Young, Kingsford's most formidable financial tycoon. Before I married her, I added three clauses to the prenuptial agreement. First, no feelings. Our marriage was purely business. Second, she could live her life however she pleased, while I'd live mine. Third, I would step aside immediately if her true love ever came along. Nevertheless, I would be getting double the alimony. Rosalind was quite pleased that I knew my place. Our marriage was a peaceful one until the day a teenage girl who bore a striking resemblance to her knocked on the door of our mansion and calmly said, "Sir, I'm Rosalind's daughter. She raised me elsewhere. I'm 17."

On the day of my wedding, I waited on the stage for six long hours with the wedding ring in my hand. The bride never came. Instead, I was greeted with the sight of my older sister's bloodied corpse. To make things worse, my wife, Winona Graham, was the one who defended the murderer in the court. I demanded answers from Winona like a madman, only to be locked up in an oven that was toggled to 200 degrees Fahrenheit by her. "Are you done, Arthur? It's Annabelle's own fault that she died in the first place! This has nothing to do with Hudson at all! He has just started his life as a young adult, and I won't let you ruin his life! "Just sit here and reflect on yourself! The moment you decide to sign the Letter of Understanding is the moment I'll get someone here to free you from the oven!" After that, I was trapped in the oven for 12 hours, resulting in my death from getting burned alive. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Winona throws the Letter of Understanding in my face.

A week before we're supposed to register our marriage, my fiancee, Celine Payton, asks me to book eight train tickets to the beach. She says it's our last trip before we get married, and everyone close to us is going. I spend three days scrambling for tickets and finally manage to get eight seats together. After I pay, a group poll pops up in a chat called "No Henry Sharp Travel Group." The question is simple. "Should Henry come with us?" Seven votes are against it while one person abstains. Not a single vote is in my favor. The voters include Celine, my older sister, Celine's childhood best friend, and my younger cousin, whom I had practically raised. I ask Celine if she's the one who abstained. She rubs her temples. "Yes. I didn't vote against you, and that's already me looking out for you. "Everyone's worried you'll try to control everything and complain about this or that. No one will have any fun. Just give me some space before we get married, okay?" I ask, "Then why do you still have me book eight tickets?" Her answer comes naturally. "You're good at getting tickets. The eighth seat gives us extra room for luggage. I'll send you the money later." My older sister, Joanne Sharp, tries to reason with me. "We're about to be family. Don't let a few tickets ruin your marriage." I look down at the eight seats sitting side by side. So I spend three days scrambling for tickets, not because I'm going with them. I'm only helping everyone else book a trip that doesn't include me. The app reminds me that I have ten minutes left to cancel the tickets. But by then, I don't care whether I can get a refund. What matters is the woman I'm about to marry. Even when everyone else turns against me, she can't bring herself to cast a single vote in my favor.

Every time Millie Johnson, my daughter, returns home from playing with my best friend's dog at his place during summer break, she brings home an expensive doll. I have no choice but to pinch pennies and save up for a gift for my best friend after seeing how much Millie loves the dolls. I return home earlier than usual one day and overhear Millie talking excitedly into her smartwatch from her hiding spot in her room. "Mission accomplished, Mommy! Daddy didn't suspect a thing!" I am momentarily stunned. I am convinced that I have misheard, but then I hear Millie ask for a reward. "You're taking your wedding anniversary photos with Papa today, right? Can I come along, too? I'm so sick of eating plain pasta with Daddy every day, Mommy!" I freeze, my breath catching as I snatch the smartwatch from her. I happen to see the photo that has just been sent over. Sophie Johnson, my wife—who is supposed to be on her janitorial duty this morning—is actually wearing a pure white wedding dress. I stare at the screen, my hands trembling uncontrollably as my heart skips a beat. Millie tosses her doll aside and hurriedly tells me off, "You can't just snoop on me, Daddy! I'll be heading out to play with the doggy later, so don't bother us!" She excitedly peers out the window and waits for her ride after saying that. I stand frozen in place, staring at the apology message Sophie sent just a minute earlier. "I'm so sorry, Steven. It's all my fault for blowing the business and making you and Millie suffer so much all these years. I swear I'll make it up to you, Steven." I feel a sharp pang in my chest, leaving me barely able to breathe. I don't want to confront Sophie yet, so I simply trail the car that has come to pick Millie up instead.

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

On the day my daughter, Dakota Bradshaw, gets into a car accident, I rush over to save her, only to get crippled instead. Both my wife, Delilah Rowland, and Dakota don't mind the fact that I'm being a burden to them. Instead, they put in a lot of effort to take good care of me. But one day, a fire breaks out at home. Yet, Delilah personally closes my room door. Since I'm crippled, I end up falling to the floor in my state of panic. That's when I notice Dakota's shoes through the gap under the door. "Dakota, save me!" I call for help at the top of my lungs. But only the sounds of the crackling flames respond to me. I have no idea how much time has passed when I catch wisps of a conversation hazily. "Mom, the firefighters are here. What should we do?" Dakota's voice is very low. Delilah replies calmly, "Tell the police that your father started the fire when he was cooking. We just reached the corridor at that time, so the doorknob was already warped from the fire." Dakota simply says one word. "Okay."

My wife forces my sister to accompany some men for drinks so she can help her first love get investments. My sister finds an opportunity to run but gets harassed by other drunken men. As she tries to break free, she has a heart attack, and she dies. I'm devastated as I handle her funeral alone. That's when my wife calls and snaps, "Tell your sister to apologize to Claude! Do you know how much trouble she's caused for him?" I don't know how much trouble he's in. All I know is that one must pay the price for the things they've done.

In the third year of working to raise money for the medical expenses of my girlfriend, Christine White, she once again fell into a critical condition. During these three years, I used up all my savings and mortgaged the house my parents had left me. I delivered takeout food, washed dishes, and even sold my blood just because she said she would marry me when she recovered. I continued to naively gather money for her medical expenses. While delivering takeout at the entrance of an upscale nightclub, I heard her boasting to her friends. "That idiot Micah Jenning. I just made up an excuse about being sick, and he believed me like a lapdog! Not only did he empty his tiny savings, but he actually worked delivering food and driving Uber! I heard he even worked on a construction site a few days ago to make money! Tell me. Isn't he the ultimate simp? How pathetic.” At that moment, the heart that loved her for three years suddenly died. I dropped the food delivery and turned to call the rich heiress who had waited for me for three years. "Hayley Smith, you once said that you would marry me if I were willing to marry you. Does that statement still stand?"

After spending three years in a coma following a car accident, I finally woke up. Ever since then, everyone treated me with caution. They were so afraid of something happening to me again that they'd even worked out a schedule to make sure I was never left alone. Each morning, my younger sister, Jemma Cobb, helped me exercise and regain my strength. In the afternoon, my childhood best friend, Kian Mason, kept me entertained with video games. My parents cooked huge dinners to help me recover, while my girlfriend, Elsie Reid, picked me up afterward and drove me home. One night, as Elsie and I lay in bed, I wrapped my arms around her and laughed. "You guys don't have to worry about me so much. I'm a grown man, you know. I promise I'll take good care of myself." But Elsie shook her head, her expression unusually serious. "Kellan, you mean everything to us. We can't bear the thought of losing you again." Her words made me emotional. After everything I'd been through, I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have so many people who loved and cared about me. At least, that was what I thought until the day I accidentally discovered a group chat on Kian's phone. Everyone was involved—my parents, my sister, my best friend, and even my girlfriend. Everyone but me. The group was called "Save Elsie's Love Life." The latest message was from Kian. "Kellan and I just got to the arcade. You're good to bring Jude home now." Confused, I scrolled up and found a message from my sister. Jemma said, "I've got Kellan at the park near our neighborhood. Elsie, don't bring Jude here for breakfast today." Then, I saw one from my parents. "Kellan's finished dinner. Drop Jude off first, then come pick him up." My fingers went numb as I stared at the screen. I tapped on the profile picture of the group member named Jude Johnston, and my blood ran cold. I recognized him immediately. He was the man responsible for the accident that had left me in a coma for three years. Now, he was dating my girlfriend. Worse still, everyone I'd trusted—everyone who'd claimed to love and protect me—had been helping them keep their relationship a secret all along.

A day before we were about to get married, my fiancée invited my family for a trip on a cruise ship to test my love for her. She pushed my mother off the ship when the waves were strong, and she jumped into the sea as well. I got anxious as I had no idea who to save first. My mother had swallowed a lot of water, but she pushed me away weakly while shouting, "Save Rina first! She's your fiancée!" When I finally dragged Rina to shore and returned for my mother, I found that she was no longer breathing. Rina looked at me coldly as I cried with misery, "Stop putting up that act. Your mother can't be dead. She used to be a professional swimmer when she was young. I can't believe you didn't choose to save me first. Eugene was right. You don't love me enough. "We should postpone our wedding. When you're done reflecting on what you did, bring your mother along and apologize to me. We can discuss our wedding then." With that, Rina put her arm around Eugene's, and they left. Rina had no idea that my mother had stopped swimming since she suffered a major illness several years ago. Pushing my mother off the ship had made her lose her life.

The day my entire family attended my girlfriend's wedding to my stepbrother, I laid in the bathtub and contemplated ending my life there and then. Just as the cold blade touched my wrist, my phone suddenly began ringing nonstop. It was a scheduled call my late mother had left for me. "Happy birthday, Casper!" After a moment of silence, I climbed out of the bathtub, got dressed, and secretly left the country. In the five years I was gone, I changed my name and phone number to cut off all ties with my home country. Everyone thought I was dead. They believed I had died on the day my girlfriend married my stepbrother. For five whole years, fresh red roses had been laid at my grave every single day. Five years later, I returned home to visit my mother's grave. At the floral boutique outside the cemetery, I happened to run into my ex-girlfriend, who had come to buy red roses. After a moment of shock and awkwardness, we finally greeted each other. "It's been a long time." I smiled at her politely. She stared at me without looking away. The red roses in her hand pricked her fingers until they bled. Just as we were about to part, she suddenly asked, "Why didn't you come looking for me in the past five years?" I smiled but didn't answer. After all, we weren't a couple anymore. She had married my father's illegitimate son, and I had a three-year-old child of my own. There was no going back.

On the day my wife, Adele Bellamy, rang the opening bell on Merrow Street to take her company public, my daughter and I sat in the audience. When my daughter was invited onstage to speak, she took the microphone and asked me in her small, childish voice, "Daddy, did you really get Mommy by being a homewrecker?" The hushed hall erupted as if a boulder had crashed into still water, and countless camera flashes swung toward my pale face. "Mr. Linwood, is what your daughter said true?" "If his own daughter said it, it has to be true! That's a juicy high-society secret. Bet he never expected his own kid to be the one to spill it." "Haven't you heard? Ms. Bellamy used to have a childhood sweetheart, and then they split up out of nowhere. Maybe he broke them up so that he could take that guy's place!" Amid the uproar, I rushed onto the stage in a panic to explain myself, but the moment I opened my mouth, Adele pressed her hand down on the back of mine. "Yes. He was the homewrecker."

I'm born different, with two hearts inside my body. This is the only thing about me that makes my parents happy, because my brother, Tristan Foster, has congenital heart disease. They bring me into this world only so he can keep living. Then I meet Cindy Green and marry her. She pulls me out of the desperate need to chase my family's love. I think she's going to be different from my parents. But when Tristan's condition flares up, she becomes obsessed with wanting me to donate one of my hearts to him. What she doesn't know is that I only have one heart left. The other one is already beating inside her.

The day Ken Bowen and I finalized the divorce, I walked out wearing only the outfit I had worn on our wedding day. I let Ken keep the house, the cars, the money, and the kids. He looked genuinely surprised, then let out a mocking laugh. "Are you sure about this? You raised the girls yourself, and you're just giving them up? If you really don't want anything, then you won't need to pay child support either. That's fair, right?" I signed the papers without hesitation and said calmly, "Yeah. That's fair." Ken paused, then slowly signed his name. "If you regret this later, you…" I lifted a hand and cut him off. I didn't look back as I walked out. Ken used to say I married him for money and status, that I used our three daughters to tie him down. Whatever. The day he saw my dead body, he would finally understand.

I was supposed to marry Acara Grey today. Dressed in a suit, I stood all by myself at the end of the aisle for forty minutes, but she was nowhere to be seen. Both of my sisters were absent as well. They were not here because our younger foster brother, Levi Cal, had sent a picture in our group chat. It was an image of a scratch on his sports car. He told us he had gotten in an accident, and several drunk men had gotten out of their car and had him surrounded. They were hurling insults at him, and he was too terrified to step outside. Acara reached for the keys immediately and ran out to rescue him. My eldest sister, Nylah Thornton, immediately dispatched the company’s security team to the scene. My second sister, Mia Thornton, left in such a rush that she even forgot about the lapel pin she was supposed to put on me for the wedding ceremony. When I eventually called Acara to ask when she was coming, I heard the bustle of a restaurant in the background. As it turned out, only a bit of paint had been chipped off of Levi's sports car. The so-called drunken hooligans had left the scene a long time ago. The three ladies had taken him to a restaurant to help him get over the shock of what just happened. I suppressed my anger and reminded them that the wedding was about to begin. Acara replied in a completely candid manner, "So what if we're a little late? It's not going to ruin the wedding! Levi was nearly attacked in the parking lot. Can't you man up and be a little more understanding about it? Quit being jealous!"

My in-laws were old-fashioned. They insisted that spending New Year's in their hometown was a must for a smooth year ahead. We could not get train tickets, so we decided to drive back. When my wife’s first love heard about it, he insisted on coming with us. He even brazenly took the front passenger seat from me. “Charles, I get carsick easily. I can only sit in the front.” Evan shot me a disdainful look. "It's just a seat. Why are you being so touchy?" “If you knew how to drive, would this even be an issue?” My in-laws chimed in as well. “You’re a grown man. Why are you making such a fuss over something so small?” Outnumbered, I had no choice but to squeeze into the back seat with my in-laws. Then, when we were passing a toll booth, Yvonne spotted a stray dog and was suddenly overcome with compassion. “That poor dog. Let’s bring it home with us.” I immediately objected, “The car is already full. If we bring a dog too, we’ll be over the limit. We won’t even be allowed on the road.” Before I had even finished speaking, Evan turned on me without hesitation. “Charles, in that case, why don’t you give up your seat for the dog? You can just take a cab back!”