Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Plot Twists Romance Marriage

My wife, Claire Mercer, ran the hospital, and she still handed my mother's surgery to a junior physician. Only because he was the one child her late mentor had left behind. "Noah needs this chance to prove himself. Let him take your mother's surgery." I refused, and Claire decided I was doing it to spite her. "My mentor asked me before he died to look after Noah. Can't you try to understand me, just once?" Every urgent word of it was in Noah's defense. I looked at her and was suddenly very tired. Anything to do with Noah, and I was the one who gave way. A car crash put me in the hospital and the doctors issued three critical-condition notices; she was at Noah's birthday party. My mother's health collapsed; she took Noah traveling to cheer him up. Even in the house she and I were married in, there was always a bedroom kept empty for him. For ten full years, Noah had been wedged between us. I raised my eyes, my voice dry. "This time you're still choosing him, aren't you?"

It is the ninth time I bring up marriage with Shane Yardley, my boyfriend, and he finally gives in. "You know I don't believe in marriage. Do you really need a marriage certificate just to have peace of mind? Haven't I treated you well enough over the years to prove my sincerity, Jasmine?" Shane is truly wonderful. He is gentle, caring, and wealthy. He has never once complained even though I can't bear him any children. Those around envy how lucky I am to have such a great partner. He seems ready to give me everything aside from a marriage certificate. Shane wraps his arms around me after noticing my silence and tries to sweet-talk me. "If it means that much to you, I'll go with you to register our marriage tomorrow." Yet, when the next day comes, Shane suddenly tells me he has to leave on a business trip because something came up at work and rushes off. I watch him leave without saying a word. I suddenly notice the documents he left on the desk. I can't get through to him, so I have no choice but to bring them to the hotel where he's staying. Yet, the person the front desk calls down turns out to be a young pregnant woman instead. She rests her hand on her baby bump and smiles gently. "I'm Shane Yardley's wife. And you are?" I am shaken to my core. Shane rushes over before I can answer the young woman. He immediately steps in front of her, gestures toward me, and says, "I'd like you to meet Jasmine Quinton, m-my cousin."

I've been at odds with my younger brother, Ethan Calloway, for over 20 years. I'm a narcotics officer who can't stand criminals, while Ethan runs with the very people I've sworn to put behind bars. When we're kids, he steals my homework and trades it for candy, then tells our parents I've been cheating at school, earning me a brutal beating. As we get older, he only gets worse. He lands himself in juvenile detention every few days for stealing, and everyone starts calling me "the pickpocket's brother". He even has the nerve to wolf-whistle at my new girlfriend. "Victor Calloway! That girl's mine!" I figure he's just running his mouth like he always does. My girlfriend, Vanessa Crain, even spits at his feet in public and snaps, "What the hell is wrong with you?" Eventually, I enter the police academy, complete my training, graduate, get a job, and marry the woman I love. Everything seems to be going according to plan. Ethan also appears to turn over a new leaf, putting his rebellious ways behind him and becoming a model citizen. Then one day, I receive a tip about a group of meth users at a nightclub. During the raid, I grab the ringleader by the hair and slam his head against the wall. He cries out in pain before pointing at the woman kneeling by my feet, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Victor! Aren't you being a little rough? What if your wife gets upset seeing you hurt me?"

Today is my birthday. But my wife, Talia Ford, tells me that she can't spend time with me today. She needs to accompany her uncle, Adam Ford, to his physical checkup. I'm about to convince Talia to stay with me when a row of comments suddenly pops up in front of my eyes. "Stop wasting your breath. Just let her go. "In your previous life, Talia insisted on keeping her uncle company, so you could only return to your research lab to work. But you predicted that the dead volcano located next to Bareyard Village would erupt tonight. So, you forcibly stopped Talia and made her go back to the village to save her grandpa. "But when her uncle went for the physical checkup on his own, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Engulfed by despair, he took his own life by jumping off the hospital. "After he died, Talia pinned the blame on you. She bought some potent rat poison and poisoned your food, thus killing you."

"Mr. Reed, your request for euthanasia has been approved. The procedure is scheduled for next month. Please sign here to confirm." The staff member handed Ryan Reed a thick stack of papers. His fingers trembled over the page. After a few seconds, he slowly signed, his name scrawled as if it had taken all his strength.

At the wedding rehearsal, my fiancé replaced the MC I'd hired with his childhood friend, Riley Robner. "Step aside, Megan. Riley will run through the process for you. Pay attention." He pulled her behind him like he was afraid I'd lose it right there in front of everyone. But I didn't argue. I just quietly stepped back to the corner. He paused, caught off guard, then smirked and took Riley's arm. They walked the aisle together, exchanged rings, and ran through the whole thing like it was their show. Afterward, he drove her home himself. Before he left, he said, "She's a pro. She knows weddings better than you. This is for your own good. "Relax. She's just helping with your marks. When the real day comes, you'll be front and center." I smiled, nodded, and told him to drive safely. Derek shot a look at his groomsmen. They all exchanged grins, chests puffed. A while later, my phone buzzed with a message from the county clerk: [Your appointment has been canceled.] Then another message came in. It was a new confirmation—same office, same license, different groom. Scheduled for what was supposed to be my wedding day. Derek, you can swap out the MC. I'm swapping out the groom.

Rachel Winters and I have held 99 weddings, and all 99 times, she played the runaway bride. She always makes a run for it right before the vows, leaving me alone in the awkward silence of the venue. "Felix Hampton, you have to forgive me for my impulsiveness. I promise that I won't run away again on our 100th wedding," she says. "I will hold your hand and grow old with you. I will be yours forever!" To prove her sincerity, she decides to hold our 100th wedding on a cruise ship in international waters. "We'll hold the wedding at sea. That way, even if I wanted to run, I wouldn't be able to." Yet, just as we are about to exchange our rings before the vows, Rachel strips off her wedding gown, revealing a wetsuit underneath. "I'm sorry, Felix. I still can't bring myself to marry you." With that, she plunges into the open sea. Someone is waiting for her at the side of the cruise ship. They embrace tightly, their lips meeting in a passionate, lingering kiss. Some time later, she gets tired of her own games and holds a 101st wedding with me. This time, she voluntarily handcuffs her own wrists together. "Honey, I won't run away anymore now that I've handcuffed myself like this. I'm giving you the key. I'm willing to give up all my freedom for your sake!" However, I take the key from her and toss it straight into the trash can. "I don't want your love or freedom anymore." I've already played the foolish groom a hundred times, waiting for a bride who would never arrive. And now, it's finally my turn to run at our 101st wedding.

When I first met Thomas Hilton, he was still a street punk covered in blood. The only good thing about him was the clumsy sincerity when he tattooed my name on his chest. Later, when he rose to power, with a wave of his hand, he gave me half of Bronze Bay as a wedding gift. Everyone in Harborwood knew that I, Jessica Shaw, was more important to him than his own life. That was until today, when the celebrity Thomas kept finally walked into our house. With a big belly, she said to me with a smile, "Ms. Shaw, are you going to leave with dignity now, or wait until my son grows up and throws you out of this place?" I just raised my hand and ordered a subordinate to help her "give birth". When Thomas saw the pool of blood beneath her, he flew into a rage. He pressed a knife to my neck and said, "Jessica, you should know when to be satisfied!" I laughed softly and pressed the muzzle of a gun against his heart. "You really had a change of heart. Good thing my heart didn't change. My truest self is my ambition." Bang! A gunshot rang out.

Seven years ago, in order to accompany the fake heiress abroad for her recovery, Timothy Gibson casually signed the divorce papers I handed him. Without even turning around, he sneered at me. "Naomi, don't use such underhanded tactics to keep me around. Esther can't live without me abroad." Seven years later, he blocked my path with his car, and he spoke to me with an air of superiority. "Grandpa is critically ill. His only dying wish is to hold his great-grandchild. "Come back with me, behave yourself, and give birth to an heir. You will still be Mrs. Gibson." I looked down at my shoes. I recalled the time I stood in the rain and begged him not to leave. I even collapsed in the rain. In the end, all it got me was a dismissive 'you're making a scene' from him. Timothy still thought my life revolved around him. He had no idea that without the title of Mrs. Gibson, I had lived very well these past seven years. The very day after he signed the divorce papers, I married someone else. Gently touching my stomach, which wasn't even showing yet, I smiled and said, "Mr. Gibson, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. I am having a baby, but it isn't yours."

On the very day I underwent a vasectomy, Susan bought the designer tuxedo I had been eyeing for months. However, her next words struck me like a bolt of lightning. “Tomorrow is my baby’s sip-and-see. I need you looking your best.” The IV needle snapped right out of the back of my hand. With bloodshot eyes, I begged her to stop playing around. However, her face remained dead serious. “Choosing to be childfree back then was just a compromise because we were struggling. But now, I’m sitting on a multi-million dollar estate. I need an heir to inherit my fortune. My child will be your child, too. From now on, you will be the baby’s godfather.” In that exact moment, my vision blurred. “So, you pushed me to get a vasectomy just to secure the positions of your lover and your illegitimate child?" I spat out. Susan frowned, annoyed. “Myles, watch your mouth. I am giving you the status of my official husband, and I'm giving Owen the child. It’s a fair trade. Staying with me means you get to be a father without any of the pain. If you leave me, who else would ever want a sterilized man like you? Think about it wisely.” The pain hit me all at once as the anesthesia wore off. Yet, I couldn’t help but remember that once upon a time, she had carried a child of ours that she refused to accept.

Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family. Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony. She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body. Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone. She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself. But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred. I refused to let my soul dissipate. I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.

When the rebellious and flamboyant Sylvia Carter returned to her home country, she discovered that her family had already married her off to someone. Her husband was Jason Porter, the head of his family, who was eight years older than her. Naturally, Sylvia was reluctant to accept it. During their first meeting, having heard that Jason was disciplined, reserved, and a clean freak, she deliberately showed up in a black, form-fitting halter dress. She even hired eight male escorts to fuss over her with refreshments. Her parents were embarrassed. Just as they were about to apologize, Jason calmly leaned forward. He held them steady with his strong hands and spoke in a deep, clear voice. "This arranged marriage has put Ms. Carter in an uncomfortable position. I should be the one apologizing to her." Sylvia froze. She slowly raised her head and met Jason's intense gaze. He had such alluring amber irises.

In the third year of Lyra Hawthorne's engagement to Ryder Calloway, he found himself a beautiful grid girl named Nova Voss abroad. The day before Valentine's Day, he deliberately brought Nova to see Lyra and demanded to break off the engagement. "Nova and I share the same interests. A simp like you will never understand the thrill of racing." Lyra refused to accept it and asked, "Does it have to be today?" He laughed. "Do you need to check the calendar to call off an engagement?" She nodded and didn't argue any further. A month later, she entered the same race he did. What he didn't know was that she had understood the thrill of racing long before he ever did. Later, she got married on his birthday. With reddened eyes, he asked, "Does it have to be today?" She smiled as well. "Of course. You do need to pick an auspicious day for a wedding."

When I find out about that woman's existence, it turns out that they've been dating for a very long time. Simon Jensen protects her very well. Even though he's already attended banquets with her and has introduced her to all of his friends, I still have yet to see any of her photos. Heck, I don't even know her name. If it weren't for the fact that Simon was unable to resist that woman's coquettish pleading and brought her to the fashion show press conference as a brand investor, I'd probably remain in the dark forever. At this moment, I stare at Simon from far away, who's currently gazing at his lover standing on the runway. There's a hint of a gentle smile in his eyes. The camera flashes keep clicking. One of the reporters can't resist asking, "Mr. Jensen, are you a fan of Angela Stewart as well?" Simon never averts his gaze from Angela. He replies, "No. She's the love of my life." So, it turns out the cold and aloof Simon is capable of doting on a young woman to this degree. I spin the dull wedding ring around my ring finger subconsciously. That's when I realize how meaningless this marriage actually is.

My wife, Jenna Cruise, is allergic to men's bodily fluids. Even the slightest skin contact makes her break out in red, swollen patches immediately. We have been married for three years, but we've never been intimate. We even use IVF to have a baby. While I'm with Jenna at her prenatal appointment, a violent patient starts a fight at the hospital, and I get stabbed multiple times just to protect her. I almost lose my life, but the thought of her and our unborn baby is what keeps me going. On the day I'm discharged from the hospital, I receive a video. It shows Jenna making love to another man, doing all sorts of things in bed. Her skin looks flawless. Aside from the love bite the man leaves on her chest, there isn't a single red welt on her body. I look up and see Jenna peeling an apple for me. She's wearing a mask, and her dress is buttoned all the way to the top. She's wearing gloves too, completely covering herself up. The timestamp shows that the video was taken just yesterday. I reach for the buttons on her dress, my hands trembling, but she immediately shoves my hand away. "Don't touch me! Stay away from me!" The look in her eyes makes me feel like I'm something disgusting. I also finally realize that she's not allergic to men's bodily fluids. She's just allergic to me. As Jenna heads to the bathroom to change, I call the number I've had blocked for the past five years. The person on the other end answers almost immediately. "Give me your location. I'll be right there," I say.

I had just returned from the world's largest tech summit when my mentor called. She has always been like a mother to me. She told me she had arranged a marriage for me, with the daughter of a close friend of hers, Tania Jones. She was a rising talent in the capital's business scene, and a number of my patents were licensed to her company, forming the core technology behind their latest products. After working late in the lab, I changed into a carefully chosen suit and went to the engagement ceremony. However, I was stopped at the entrance by Elias Yates, Tania's personal assistant. He was wearing a perfectly tailored designer suit, every detail immaculate. He looked more like the groom than I did. "If you know what's good for you, walk away," he said with an icy smirk. "An orphan with no background should know his place. You are not worthy of Ms. Jones." I frowned and replied, "Does Tania know you are speaking on her behalf like this?" Elias let out a mocking laugh. "A kept man living off his mentor's reputation could never understand how important I am to Ms. Jones." There was obsession and pride shining in his eyes. I looked at him for a moment, then dialed Tania. "If this is your idea of welcoming your fiancé," I said evenly, "then perhaps my patents should only be shown to you on paper, right before I sell them to your rival instead."

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

On the day I discover that Ignazio Corelli, who is my husband and the Don of the Corelli famiglia, is cheating on me for the first time, I file for divorce and buy a plane ticket to leave. But he locks me in the master bedroom of the villa for five days and uses up three whole bottles of lubricant. After that, he explains with a helpless expression, "Carlotta, my enemies set me up and drugged me. That's why I spent one night with Chiara Linetti. You have to forgive me." The second time, I see him accompanying Chiara to a prenatal checkup at the hospital. Once again, I ask for a divorce. His eyes turn bloodshot as he pins me against the wall. "Honey, if you want a divorce, it'll only happen over my dead body. You have to trust me. Chiara is a spy my enemies planted. I need to keep her under control and make her my double agent. "It won't take long. We just need to wait until after she gives birth. I swear that once the time comes, I'll send her away immediately." But later, Chiara suffers a miscarriage. Everyone suspects that I am secretly responsible. Chiara grabs my throat like a madwoman and shrieks, "If you're angry, take it out on me! Why did you have to harm my child?" Even Ignazio looks at me with heavy disappointment in his eyes. "I told you to wait a little longer. Why did you have to make a move against my child?" With that, he orders his men to lock me in the basement where he usually imprisons his enemies. "You can come out when you've truly reflected on your mistakes," he says. Curled up in a corner, I send a message that will erase itself once it is read from my phone. I write, "Destroy all records of my childbirth. Once the paperwork is complete, take me and the child away."

When I'm having dinner at home, I find out that my childhood sweetheart, Drew Calloway, has given up on the opportunity to get promoted to the northern military camp for the sake of my cousin, Brynn Jeffries. "Brynn can only attend a local college because of her SAT results. It so happens that Mrs. Ward is in poor health as well. I've already filled in the details on your college form, Lena. We'll both stay here." My mom goes along with the flow. "That's right. I promised your uncle that I'd take good care of Brynn, so you must help me take care of her too. You should forget about Northgate University, seeing as it's useless to pursue an education there. When you marry Drew in the future, you'll be a military wife who stays in the military camp with him." Before I can say anything, Brynn's eyes well up with tears. She starts crying as though she's the one feeling aggrieved. "It's my fault for being useless. My parents are no longer around. Because of that, Lena can't attend her dream university. You should just leave me be. I'm fine staying here all by myself." As soon as Brynn starts crying, Drew and Mom fly into a state of panic and start comforting her. As for me, I rise to my feet and return to my room quietly. Thankfully, I'm able to change my desired institution back to Northgate University one second before the deadline. Honestly speaking, the reason I want to attend Northgate University isn't just so that I can be closer to Drew in terms of distance. I also wish to watch the heavy snowfall with him. If we walk together in the snow with snowflakes covering our heads, it symbolizes the possibility of us spending the rest of our lives together till we're old and gray. Well, it doesn't matter who's standing next to me when I watch the snowfall now. My only wish is that I must watch the snowfall no matter what.