Reborn Romance の短編小説 &MistressCheating小説

The day the campus queen got caught shoplifting at the convenience store, I was reborn. This time, instead of pulling her into the back room for a private talk, I called the cops without a second thought. The cops locked up my childhood sweetheart, the campus goddess Samantha Creighton, for fifteen days. During those fifteen days, I cut every tie between us. After that, I dodged her completely. Whenever she organized a class gathering, I fell deathly ill. Whenever she traveled to the southern coast, I flew to the far northwest. When she went to a reunion, I got sick. When she went home, I went abroad. When she returned to school, I dropped out. I avoided every situation that might bring me near her. In my past life, I loved her for twenty years. But in all that time, she never once treated me with any real kindness. I finally found out why during a fire at our house. I held her and our daughter outside the window, shielding them until rescue came. They got out without a scratch. But my entire body was burned beyond recognition. Then my own daughter—the one I raised with everything I had—pulled her mother's one true love close and said, "He deserves this. Back then, he tore you and Mom apart. He should die for it." My wife stood beside them and sobbed uncontrollably. "I almost thought I'd never see you again." I died full of hatred. Now that I'd been given a second chance… since she loved her first love that much, I'd make sure they could stay together.

I am a law student, and I save Andon Garner from a terrible car accident. The Garners see me as his lifesaver, so they tell me to marry him. Ten years into our marriage, my heart condition flares up. However, my husband, Andon, pours out the medicine that can save my life. He scoffs as he watches me struggle in pain and says coldly, "Elise Fulton, go and keep Sasha company." When I wake up again, it is the day of the car accident once more. Andon lies in a puddle of blood, and near him, his first love, Sasha Wilson, cries hysterically.

My husband, Kenneth Sterling, dies of a sudden heart attack while burning cash bundles at a grave. However, when I arrive to claim his body, I discover a bottle of emergency heart medication in his pocket. The cops offer their condolences, explaining that Kenneth must've been so overwhelmed by grief that he didn't have time to take his medication. I nod in agreement but freeze the moment I see the photo on the tombstone. The woman staring back at me is none other than Kenneth's deceased ex-wife, Roxana Clark. Just then, a recurring reminder pops up on his phone. "1. Withdraw 100 grand from the bank and burn it for Roxana." "2. I've taken a wife to care for my elderly parents. Now, I willingly give up my life to reunite with Roxana in God's embrace." I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. Day in and day out, I work hard and pinch pennies to cover Kenneth's parents' medical bills. Yet, he has been burning stacks of cash for a dead woman for more than a decade. As heartbreaking as it is absurd, my old illness flares up, and I die on the spot. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Kenneth and I tie the knot.

Eleanor Sutton was in love with Harrison Luther since she was 20 years old. She married him when she turned 22. Five years into their marriage, they had yet to have a child together. Harrison kept protecting Eleanor from his family while enduring the pressure they kept inflicting on him. At that time, everyone claimed that Eleanor was Harrison's weak spot. But everything changed once news of Harrison having an illegitimate child was leaked. He kneeled in the downpour for the whole day afterward as a form of punishment. Then, he explained to Eleanor that it was just an accident, and that he vowed to love her and her only. So, Eleanor accepted the outcome of the illegitimate child being kept in the family, while the mistress was exiled far, far away. But despite Harrison's promise, his mistress, Winona Birch, still ended up moving into Eleanor's home, where she'd be cared for during her pregnancy. Harrison began skipping meetings for her sake, and he'd also ditch Eleanor just so he could go on strolls with Winona. In fact, he'd even abandon Eleanor halfway during their dates in order to be with Winona. The first time Eleanor brought up divorce, Harrison slit his wrists in the bathroom. He left a suicide note, claiming that he'd rather die than not being able to grow old with Eleanor. When divorce was brought up the second time, Harrison hurriedly pleaded to Eleanor to not leave him. But after multiple conflicts, his attitude toward her became wishy-washy. After their 100th argument, Eleanor ran away from their home. Harrison no longer went after her, thinking that she'd eventually return to his side. But she died in that rainy night. When Eleanor opens her eyes again, she finds out that she has returned to the day Harrison's illegitimate child is exposed. This time, she dials a number. "I shall accept the offer of becoming a war correspondent." Her editor reminds her that she won't be able to get in touch with the outside world once she embarks on this journey, and that she needs Harrison's permission in order to accept the offer. Eleanor merely replies, "I'll divorce Harrison soon. I'll depart on time in a week." She wants to make sure that Harrison will never be able to find her anymore.

When enemies came seeking revenge, my brother was off with his first love, chasing a golden sunrise over the mountains. I didn't beg him to save us. Instead, I dragged my sister-in-law to safety, dodging killers. In my last life, my brother rushed home, but his first love got caught in an avalanche. Before she passed, she texted him, accusing me and my sister-in-law of humiliating her with money and threatening her to leave him. The fateful trip was her final wish. Her death crushed me with guilt, but my brother dismissed it, holding a perfunctory funeral for her before moving on. I thought he had recommitted to his family, but while my sister-in-law recovered from childbirth, he slipped poison into our meal. "How do I have such a vile sister like you?" he spat. "And you... I only married you for family interests. You two killed the love of my life!" He set the house on fire, burning us alive. Even his newborn son wasn't spared. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day.

On the day of my husband, Ruben Castille's funeral, a grief-stricken woman shows up at the venue. After putting down the white lilies, she doesn't walk away. Instead, she chooses to approach me. "Honestly speaking, I've been envious of you for 30 years." I frown at her in confusion. Her lips just quirk into a small smile as her gaze falls onto Ruben's portrait. Soon, her eyes redden out of emotion. "Over the past 30 years, he's given me everything, be it love, time, and money. On top of that, he's very generous, too." The woman pauses for a moment. She then tilts her head to look at me, her voice now tinged with resentment. "But his only condition is that I'm not allowed to cause any trouble in front of you." My heart skips a beat. "What do you mean by that?" The woman laughs in return. "You two were married for 30 years. Similarly, Ruben and I were together for 30 years. Ashlee Drayton, he had already betrayed you a long time ago." After that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me rooted to the spot while feeling my limbs going cold. My eyes go wide, and I begin breathing heavily. The betrayal and lies that have lasted for 30 years trigger me instantly, causing me to collapse at the venue. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ruben plans on proposing to me. "Ashlee, will you marry me?" I fall silent for a moment. Then, I accept the ring, only to throw it into a nearby drain without hesitation.

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

Three days before the wedding, the Lawsons held a bride appraisal event for me. The full mark was 100, and I scored 89. Yves Lawson, my fiancé, sighed in front of the guests. "Rules are rules, Emilia. You scored less than 90. So, the wedding will be delayed by a year." My best friend, Wendy Shaw, stood right beside him, begging with tears in her eyes. "She's already great enough. Can’t she have another shot?" In my previous life, I thought they were actually defending me. So, I held back my dissatisfaction and waited for a year. Over that year, the Lawsons' estate project made money, Yves changed the prenup's terms, and Wendy eventually became the one to marry Yves. My eyes snapped open, and I was back to that appraisal event. I looked at the score on the screen, and I took the mic. "I accept the delay, but before that, I'd like to find out who graded me a one."

When the ship went down, my wife and I were both thrown into the freezing water. Her whole body was underwater, but she used every ounce of strength she had left to hold me above the surface. Watching her lips turn blue and her face go pale, I knew her life was slipping away fast. "Let me go," I sobbed. "I want to die with you." She held on even tighter. "Gideon, hang on a little longer. Help is coming. I need you to live." I was crying so hard I could barely get the words out. "What's the point of living if you're gone?" "Help is almost here," she said weakly. "Once you're safe, tell Elliot... the baby I'm carrying is actually his..." It hit me like a bolt of lightning. Elliot was my best friend. His wife did classified aerospace research, so I'd never even met her. Never in a million years did I imagine the baby my wife was carrying wasn't mine. It was his...

Three years into their marriage, Vivian Cole was thrown into the basement for the ninety-ninth time. Half her face was swollen, and a bruise darkened the corner of her eye. Before she could struggle, a bodyguard roughly forced her into a chair. “Last month, you sneaked into bars three times and went street racing once. You ended up bedridden for a week. Haven’t you learned your lesson?” Disappointment weighed heavily on Alexander Blackwood’s face. “When will you finally learn to behave and become a proper Mrs. Blackwood?” Vivian glanced at the restraints wrapped around her arms and gave him a faint smile. “So this is how a Mrs. Blackwood is supposed to be treated? I’m living worse than a stray dog on the street.” His expression darkened, and his chest heaved with anger. “If you hadn’t kept breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have had to lay a hand on you! “You’re my wife! You’re the face of the Blackwood family, not some woman out on the street who can do whatever she pleases!” “Rules, rules, rules! I’m sick of hearing about those stupid rules!” she snarled, her usually delicate face contorted with fury. “I just want to live as myself! I don’t want to be some puppet whose only purpose is to obey the Blackwood family’s rules!” Alexander stared at her with cold, unreadable eyes for a long moment. “Anyone could be Mrs. Blackwood. You could be, or any other woman.” Just as he turned to leave, Vivian spoke in a desperate, pleading voice. “Fine. Just don’t leave me. I’ll try harder to become the perfect Mrs. Blackwood.” From that day on, Vivian gave up street racing, stopped going to bars, followed every rule, and studied proper etiquette. But at a formal gala, she lost her temper and struck a woman who had been openly mocking her. Then her father, Thomas Cole, addressed that very woman as his daughter. Vivian froze. Alexander’s expression stiffened as well. The words on his lips shifted, and his face gradually settled into an impassive mask. “She has always been rebellious and poorly mannered. Her lack of discipline is my fault. “Get on your knees and apologize to her.” Vivian felt as though she’d been struck by lightning. After making sure he was truly ordering her to apologize, she stumbled backward in disbelief. Three years of marriage and five years of love. With just one sentence, he had reduced all her efforts to nothing. Dazed and heartbroken, she ran out into the street, failing to notice the truck approaching from the roadside. She was killed on the spot. But when she opened her eyes again, she realized she’d been given a second chance at life. She had returned to the days before her wedding.

I'm reborn just as Jasmine Maynard asks for a divorce for the 108th time. Her weary voice rings in my ears. "There's nothing between us anymore, Noah Hardin. Dragging this on will just exhaust the both of us." In my past life, I had stubbornly refused to let her go and divorce her because I still wanted to be her husband. But then she got pregnant with someone else's baby, and I made a huge fuss about it, which caused her to lock me up in a psychiatric hospital. She only came to see me once right before I died. She said, "If I knew how obsessive you'd turn out to be, I would never have married you in the first place." So, in this lifetime, I realize that my obsession with her doesn't matter more than staying alive. "Dexter has a heart condition. You can demand whatever else you want from me aside from keeping your position as my husband," Jasmine says, rubbing her temples impatiently. "But it you don't agree, then we'll keep negotiating until—" I interrupt her and say, "There's no need to wait till the 109th time. I'll agree to the divorce."

When I was in college, my mom had terminal cancer, and our family company collapsed due to heavy debts. Just when I was at my lowest, my childhood friend Zach Hall rushed back from overseas. For seven years, he stayed by my side and helped me heal. …Until the night before our engagement ceremony, when I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. I wanted to tell Zach, but instead, I overheard a conversation between him and the lead surgeon who had operated on my mother. "Zach, your fiancee's mother could've been saved back then. But you stopped me from treating her, just so Jessica could get that poor woman's corneas. If Jessica is the one you love, why marry your fiancee?" "I do feel guilty toward Annie, but I don't regret it. It was the only way for Jess to pick up a brush again and keep chasing her dreams." Through the crack in the door, I saw clearly the tenderness on Zach's face when he mentioned Jessica. "What if Annie finds out?" the surgeon asked. Zach fell silent, rubbing the band on his ring finger. "I don't know. I've already decided to marry her. I'll love her, protect her, and spend the rest of my life making it up to her." The pain hit me so hard at that moment that I almost collapsed, as if my heart was being ripped out.

My wife, Piper Carlson, yanked out my ventilator tube with her own hands. All because she believed the man who donated a kidney to save her was the guy she'd never gotten over. And me? The husband she'd hated for ten years? Just a liar who stole his credit. "Don't be scared, Elliot. The thief who stole your life finally got what he deserved." The second she pulled the tube, my body locked up. I couldn't breathe. Piper barely looked at me. She just held her "savior" close, relieved I was finally gone. Then, while I was dying, she hit me with one last secret. "Marco, wanna know why you could never get me pregnant again? I slipped something into every bottle of vitamins I gave you. You don't deserve my child." I was so furious I almost lost it. But Piper was already posting her marriage certificate with Elliot Lacy. [After everything we've been through, I finally got my happy ending with the man who saved me.] With the last bit of strength I had, I left one final comment. [Piper, how's my kidney treating you?] Then I opened my eyes. I was back ten years earlier, on the rainy night Elliot stole credit for saving her with my kidney.

While working overtime late into the night, I suddenly received a video from my wife. "Honey, there's a homeless man outside our door. I'm so scared!" In the video, a disheveled man was sitting outside my house. He occasionally muttered strange, unintelligible words. I immediately got permission to leave work and drove home, but on the way back, I got into a car accident. Only after I died did I learn the truth. It was a prank that had gone viral online. The footage of the homeless man had been generated using AI. What I never expected was that my wife's male best friend had taught her how to pull it off. They had even tampered with my car's brakes in advance. Worse still, the two of them had tampered with my car's brakes beforehand. After my death, they even went live and tearfully blamed the AI prank for killing me. Countless viewers sympathized with my wife, allowing the two of them to make a fortune from the livestream. Seeing how deep my resentment ran, the Grim Reaper gave me a chance to start over. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my wife sent me that video.

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

In her past life, Elara Newman had married Orion Baron, who turned out to be an absent husband. On the day she gave birth, she suffered a severe hemorrhage and lost consciousness. However, Orion was unreachable. After she was snapped awake by the doctor, she had to sign her name on the surgical consent form while her hands were still shaking. When her children caught a raging fever, Orion was still nowhere to be seen. She had to rush to the hospital all by herself, and after three consecutive days of looking after them, she was exhausted and passed out in the corridor. On the day when her parents passed away in a car accident, Orion was still absent. As she returned home with the urn containing her parents' ashes, she was greeted by a vicious slap across the face. Her uncle immediately berated her for failing to win her husband over. He blamed her that her parents never got a chance to see their son-in-law before they passed and could never rest in peace. By the time Elara turned fifty-eight, she was terminally ill with cancer. Her life was coming to an end.

During a thunderstorm on the border, my fiancee, Eleanor Ashby, covers my retreat and falls down a cliff. The search and rescue team spends three months searching through flash floods without finding a trace of her. Everyone concludes she's dead. I refuse to give up and spend another two years looking for her. Eventually, I find her at a small clinic in a remote mountain village. But she's become the wife of the clinic's caregiver, Dylan Foster. That's when I learn she's lost her memory and fallen in love with someone else. In my previous life, I ignore her wishes and force a renowned neurosurgeon to use a high-risk treatment to restore her memories. The day her memories return, the man who has cared for and protected her for the past two years throws himself into the river in despair. Later, during an earthquake rescue mission, Eleanor and I are trapped beneath a collapsed mountainside. There's only one narrow escape route wide enough for one person. She forcibly pushes me out. Moments later, a second collapse buries her beneath a massive boulder. With her dying breath, she reaches through a crack in the rocks and grips my hand. She says in a hoarse voice, "Callum Pierce, these ten years we've spent together is repayment for the debt I owed you from the ten years before. We're even now. Neither of us owes the other anything anymore. "If there's a next life, don't let me remember the past. Please... let me be with him." Tears blur my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I find Eleanor. This time, I choose to respect her decision and let go of the life she's forgotten.

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

When Camille Prescott's young lover, Bryce Whitfield, threatens suicide yet again, she postpones our wedding. This is the ninth time in five months. Everyone thinks I'm a joke. This time, I refuse to back down. I stare at Camille intently and ask, "Are we getting married or not?" In my previous life, due to my meekness, I allowed the wedding to be delayed again and again. My mom was so furious that she ended up in the hospital. I went to speak with Bryce, hoping to resolve things peacefully. Instead, he accused me of trying to drive him to suicide. Then, he deliberately pushed me off a balcony. I survived, but I was left paralyzed and stripped of all dignity. Not only did Camille refuse to hold him accountable, but she even pinned the blame on me and said that I was asking for it. Consumed by despair, I pulled out my own oxygen tube. After getting a second chance at life, I finally understand one thing—I should never have wasted my entire life on a piece of trash like her.