Plot Twists Romance 단편 소설 & Mistress Regret 소설

Evan Shaw was famous for sticking to his principles. He was punctual, followed every rule, and never made exceptions. Yet when it came to going to City Hall to get married to Roxie Foster, he had stood her up eight times. The first time, his former underclassman, Sylvia Young, was returning after eight years abroad, and he had to pick her up from the airport. The second time, Sylvia accidentally burned her finger while cooking. The third time, Sylvia's son got sick. ... This was the eighth time. Once again, Evan didn't show up. He only called in a hurry and said, "Something came up. I'll be there." Roxie watched their number get skipped again and again until the clerk behind the window tapped on the glass. "Miss, is your boyfriend not coming again? We're about to close." Roxie was about to call him when a message from Evan came through first. "I'm still tied up. We'll get married another day." A bitter ache spread through her chest as she stared at the message. She was about to put away her phone and leave when a new post on Sylvia's social media feed caught her eye. Roxie froze. In the photo, Sylvia was smiling brightly. Beside her, Evan held Sylvia's son, Severin "Seven" Young, in his arms while gazing at her with unmistakable fondness. The caption read: "Seven wanted to go to the amusement park today. Thanks to my favorite senior for spending the whole day with us!" Looking at that picture, Roxie's throat tightened, heavy and raw. So this was the important matter that had kept him away. He had skipped their marriage registration to take Sylvia's son to an amusement park. Pain twisted through Roxie's chest. Hurt and anger burned through her so fiercely that her entire body began to tremble. She was about to call Evan and demand an explanation when she noticed the comments underneath the post. Several mutual friends had already started teasing them. "All these years later, Dr. Shaw still has the same soft spot for his favorite girl."

On their wedding day, right as Elena Emerton and Kyle Fenton were about to exchange rings, a woman rushed Kyle with a knife. Elena moved on instinct, throwing herself in front of Kyle. The blade sank into her chest, and she crumpled into Kyle's arms. As the woman was dragged away, she screamed, "Kyle Fenton, we're not done! How dare you get married?" That was when Elena recognized her. Allison Smyth. Kyle's sworn enemy for the past six years. Before anyone could react, Allison broke free and held the knife to her throat. "Kyle, I'm tired. Let's end this." Kyle's eyes went wide. He dropped Elena and rushed to Allison, catching the blade with his bare hand. Elena hit the floor hard. Blood spread across her white wedding dress. Kyle held Allison tight, terrified she'd hurt herself. When Allison passed out, he scooped her up and rushed right past Elena. Not once did he look back.

Jackson Dalton, my roommate, was a deeply disturbed voyeur. His greatest hobby in life was spying on me. Back in school, he stole my underwear. After we started working, he set his sights on sleeping with the woman I loved, Caitlin Watson. Because we were close, he constantly crossed the line, making crude, sexual remarks about Caitlin, who was a flight attendant. "Those legs are insane. Wonder what it’d feel like to have them on my shoulders." Every time he ran his mouth, Caitlin would throw water in his face and curse him out. "Stay the hell away from me, you freak." For my sake, she never called the police on him, but every time he acted up, she made sure to humiliate him in public. The night I successfully proposed, I bought a new house. Jackson showed up with a full set of appliances as an apology gift. Wearing her diamond ring, Caitlin leaned into my arms, smiling like she was the happiest woman alive. All my friends said I was lucky to have such a beautiful and loyal fiancee, who even put my worst friend in his place. Until I got up in the middle of the night for a drink. I noticed the guest room door was slightly open. When I pushed it open, I saw Caitlin wearing a collar and being led on a leash while crawling on the ground.

I came home late one night to find another woman in the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Alistair Westwood. She was wearing my silk slip, which barely covered her thighs. Barefoot, she pressed herself against him. His hand was wrapped around her bare waist. "Nika isn't feeling well, so I told her she could stay here for now." Nika peeked out from behind him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was your place." "Where is she going to sleep?" I demanded. "And why is she wearing my clothes?" Alistair frowned. "Nika is sick. Obviously, she'll sleep with me so I can look after her. Can't you just let this go for once?" "It's fine. I can sleep on the couch," Nika offered. Alistair cut her off at once. "No. You're too sick to sleep there." I stared at the two of them for a moment. Then I grabbed a pillow and a blanket. "I'll take the couch." As soon as the bedroom door closed, I opened my laptop and reached for an invitation on the table. Half an hour later, I typed my answer. By the next day, Alistair's company had lost one of its biggest partnerships.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife, Nina Sable, drops a bombshell on me. She secretly aborts the child we have tried for three years to conceive, just so she can give her childhood friend, Mike Reed, a son to carry on his family line. When I confront her about it, she calls me out for being petty and heartless. "Mike is the only son in his family. He refuses to marry anyone else because of me. What's wrong with me giving him a child?" My dad, Matt Smith, suffers a heart attack from the shock and dies. My mom, Caroline Dunn, can't take the blow and loses her mind. She falls from the balcony, leaving her in a coma. Desperate to get pregnant as soon as possible, Nina fools around with Mike even on the day of Dad's funeral. And she posts about it on social media. "You stayed faithful to me, so I'll carry on your family line. We may not be meant to be in this life, but let's meet again in the next." I smirk and leave a comment underneath. "How are you not meant to be? I'll make sure you two get what you want right now."

Serena Sutton was my fiancee, but she wanted to marry my bodyguard, Evan Brooks. The man was a cheat. I didn't want her taken in, so I took her to see for herself what he really was. While the two of them were fighting, a car came through at speed and killed him. And Serena hated me for it with everything in her. In the third year of our marriage, she killed our son. I was in so much pain I was coughing up blood, and she put a knife in me. "Adrian, this is what you owe me for Evan." Only then did I learn that she had never forgotten him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the second before I meant to expose him. This time, I'm staying out of it.

When Naomi Sullivan married me, she was already ten million dollars in debt. I spent the last five years working three jobs to help her pay off her "debts" while providing for her as well as our son, Shane Lewis. Not once did I ever complain about anything. All along, I firmly believed that my efforts would pay off, and we would eventually lead a good life together. Last week, our company finally secured a massive investment. Naomi and I hugged as we celebrated the occasion. I thought that the hard times were finally over. Today, I ended up seeing Naomi featured in the financial news. Dressed in a formal gown, she was hailed as the sole heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was shown engaged in an animated conversation with her "investor", Jared Lewis. The news headline read, "Naomi Sullivan Completes Five-Year Adversity Trial, Proves Her Ability to Build from Scratch to the Board of Directors". I trudge home in a daze. When I get there, the five-year-old Shane is playing with the latest limited-edition toy robot. He looks at me with a frosty, distant expression that bears an uncanny resemblance to his mother's. "Mommy told me everything. You failed the trial, Daddy. You care too much about money."

After the video exposing my sister Issa Acosta’s plot against me was revealed, my parents and my fiancé, Henry Nolan, stood firmly by my side, making me feel loved and safe. I confidently handed over all the evidence to them, trusting them to handle it. However, they told me that after Issa was kicked out of the house, she died in a sudden car accident, and I believed them. That was until five years into my marriage, when I accidentally saw Issa—the woman who was supposed to be dead. She was holding a little boy, clinging tightly to Henry’s hand. "Henry, if it weren’t for you and my parents, I’m afraid Zoe would’ve thrown me in prison. Thankfully, my parents destroyed the evidence and even opened a jewelry design studio for me. To avoid suspicion, you even sacrificed your own marriage. Thank you for everything in the past five years.” "Think of it as me atoning to Zoe on your behalf. As long as you and Bear are happy, that’s enough for me." So, what I thought was a happy family was nothing more than a giant lie—a scheme concocted by my parents and Henry. My parents, my husband, and Issa were the real family, and I? I was just the fool who had been deceived for five long years. Whether it was family or love, none of it was real, and I don’t want any of it anymore.

When my husband, Jared Hunt, receives a promotion that requires him to travel to Belmont, a big city, he submits a list of family members who will be traveling with him to the organization. He has submitted two names; the first one being our son, Jackson Hunt, and the second being a knowledgeable young woman, Sabrina Hayes. She's a friend who has traveled to the village with him in the first place. Life in the village is difficult. There's no way Jared will let Jackson suffer in the village. As for Sabrina, he has already given her his word to take her back to Belmont a long time ago. But when it comes to me, his actual wife, he thinks I should be gracious and offer the opportunity of traveling to Belmont to others. "It's completely useless for a country bumpkin like you to go to Belmont. Sabrina is very knowledgeable, so she's a more suitable candidate. Jackson and I will come back for you when an opportunity comes up in the future." As I listen to Jared's perfunctory explanation, I can feel my heart breaking. But what Jared doesn't know is that I'm not a country bumpkin despite having lived in the village longer than him. The truth is, I'm the talent that Belmont wants the most. The promotion that Jared cherishes the most is actually something that I don't want.

I have a secret. When I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most. Since Natalie moved in next door when we were seven, I always saw myself in her heart. At eighteen, when she held my hand—it was me. At twenty-two, when she proposed—it was me. On our wedding night, when she kissed me—it was still me. On the morning of our third anniversary, I fixed the hem of her dress. My fingers grazed her ankle. Out of habit, I closed my eyes. This time, I saw two faces. Mine. And some guy I'd never seen before. That night, Natalie's phone lit up. [Thanks for spending today with me, Natalie.] Twenty-one years. A hundred thousand touches. And for the first time, I was wrong.

The day my boyfriend, Lucian Farrell, and I, Roxanne Schmidt, decide to register our marriage, the million-dollar diamond ring he'd promised me turns into a can tab. So, I broke things up with him on the spot. In a panic, Lucian fishes out the purchase receipt. "I just forgot to bring the ring. If it bothers you, I can go home and get it right now," he coaxes. My gaze lands on the figure hurrying toward both of us. "There's no need for that. Your 'little shadow' has already brought it over for you," I replied indifferently. Evelyn Wiley rushes up before me with tears in her eyes. A large diamond ring is wedged tightly around her swollen ring finger. "I just wanted to help Ms. Schmidt try the size. But it wouldn't come off no matter how hard I tried…" she explains between sobs. Lucian's face darkens instantly. "Who said you could touch it? The ring was meant for Roxanne!" he snaps. He wrenches at the ring, but it doesn't budge at the slightest. I watch the commotion before me with my arms folded. All of a sudden, a laugh escapes me. "It's simple. If it won't come off, then we can just cut her finger off."

The day Bradley Stone and I get into the same college, I break up with him. "That's really why you're breaking up with me? Because I didn't buy you that bracelet?" he asks with a laugh. "Yes." I nod seriously. That day, our families throw a party to celebrate our college acceptances and invite all our classmates and teachers. Bradley thoughtfully prepares small gifts for every teacher and classmate. Even a classmate he doesn't get along with receives the latest backpack. But he completely forgets the bracelet he promised to buy me. Nicole Quaid, the prettiest student in our class, walks over gracefully. The diamonds on her bracelet sparkle brightly. "Bradley, this is my favorite style. You know me so well." Bradley smiles. "Of course I do." Seeing how close they are, I swallow the urge to remind him, "I'm your girlfriend." Bradley and I are childhood sweethearts, and we've practically been together since birth. We even shared a crib as babies, and this marks our 18th year together. I was once Bradley's entire world. Now, he barely spares me a glance. Even as I seriously tell him we're breaking up, he keeps looking at Nicole and casually ruffles my hair. "Sabrina, stop making a fuss. It's just a bracelet. We have plenty of time to buy it later. Nicole and I still have things to talk about, so don't interrupt us." I nod and quietly move away from them. I go over to Mom and tug at her sleeve. "Mom, can I study abroad?" She asks me why. "It's nothing. I just don't want to attend the same college as Bradley anymore."

My mother-in-law, Lillian Pierce, gets into a car accident and needs a liver transplant from my wife, Elena Prescott. However, she is busy playing a murder mystery game with her first love, Ethan Bennett. In my previous life, I forcibly drag her away from the game and bring her to the hospital for the liver transplant. No one could have foreseen the tragedy that would happen. During this time, Ethan crosses paths with a deranged serial killer and ends up dead in an alley. After his tragic end, Elena doesn't show any reaction to his passing—until the anniversary of his death. On that day, she locks me in the basement and slices the flesh off my body piece by piece. "If it weren't for you, Ethan would never have died. Go down there and apologize to him!" Her smile is sinister, a tell-tale sign of the madness that has consumed her. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day when Lillian gets into an accident. This time, I do not force Elena to do the liver transplant. She saves Ethan but loses her mother forever.

Five years ago, for the sake of my fiancee, Ellia Murdock, I went overseas alone to deal with all the obstacles her family faced. The day I returned, she sent a car to pick me up to attend her son's birthday party. She smiled and introduced me as her long-lost uncle, who was also crazy, in front of all the guests. Her son clapped his hands and exclaimed, "Mommy, I want to ride the crazy horse!" Ellia's smile vanished. Her voice turned cold as she ordered, "Jason, don't ruin Nial's fun. Get down." My heart jolted. I glared at her. "Ellia, you want me to let a brat ride me like a horse?" Right after I finished my sentence, her current husband slapped me across the face. "What's with the act? You're just a lunatic. Cut the nonsense." I touched my burning cheek and smiled. She had forgotten that I left to clean up her family's mess. I could clean things up, but I could make a mess too.

Five years into therapy, my doctor pushed a consent form across the desk. "Electroconvulsive therapy is the most effective treatment available. But there's a strong chance you'll lose a significant portion of your memories." I stared at the form for a long moment, then picked up the phone and called my wife, Celeste Kendrick. As always, the call was routed to her company's front desk. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hartley. Ms. Kendrick is in a meeting." The receptionist's response was brief and professional. The whole exchange lasted less than three seconds. Five years ago, my mother died in an accident on the same day as our wedding. I left Celeste at the altar. After that, we were married on paper and strangers in every way that mattered. When I called to ask if she was coming home, the call would go straight to the front desk. When I needed a family member's signature for surgery, the call would go to the front desk. Even when I was falling apart and just needed to hear her voice, all I ever got was the receptionist's rehearsed reply. I opened our message history. She had read every single message and never replied to one. Yet just one minute earlier, she had posted on social media.

For eight years, Daniel Foster throws me a wedding every year, but never makes our marriage legal. He claims he's afraid of marriage, terrified that we'll end up like his parents. So instead of pressuring him, I give him eight whole years to work through his fears and prepare himself for the commitment. At our eighth wedding, I notice that Daniel is wearing the wrong suit. At first glance, it looks exactly like the suit we've chosen for the ceremony. The only difference is the name embroidered on the collar. It isn't mine. It belongs to my best friend, Avery Morgan. I'm about to confront Daniel and demand an explanation when my older sister, Vivian Cooper, grabs my arm and stops me. "Elle, it's been eight years. What good will confronting him do now? It's better to pretend you haven't noticed." I stare at her in disbelief. "Viv, are you saying you've known all along?" Vivian stiffens slightly before glancing at the family members and friends gathered around us. "It's not just me. Everyone knows." I stand frozen, unable to say a word. It takes me a long moment to find my voice again. "Then why? Why has Daniel kept holding wedding ceremonies with me for the past eight years?" Vivian's voice softens, and sympathy fills her eyes as she explains, "Having a wedding every year was Avery's idea. Apart from the wedding she and Daniel had when they legally married, every wedding they've had since has been matched by one for you." So the marriage I've spent eight years waiting for has already been given to someone else, and I'm the last person to find out.

Right before my wedding, I suddenly discovered that Rhett Calder had been making a mysterious transfer every month. The recipient was his first love, Colette Branson. For seven years, it had been seventy thousand dollars a month, more regular than my period. I put the statements in front of him and demanded an explanation. He was busy working and didn't even look up. "Colette once had an abortion for me. This is my way of making it up to her. "Don't worry. Money's the only thing I'll ever give her." I cried. I made a scene. My friends all tried to talk me down. "It's only seventy thousand. Rhett's so rich he'd think seventy thousand was too cheap to even buy you a handbag. "The first step to being a rich man's wife is learning to be gracious." Thinking about our wedding next month and all our years together, I gave in, until I discovered that our housekeeper had been making a kid's lunch every day and delivering it to Rhett's office. I confronted her, but she just stared at me, stunned. "Ms. Prescott, isn't that your child? "He's five or six already. He calls Mr. Calder 'Dad.'"

During our beach vacation, my wife, Carla Locke, lets her guy best friend, Alex Dugan, rub sunscreen all over her. "What have you been eating lately? Feels like you've gone up a cup size." The moment I see Alex's hand lingering on Carla's chest, the drink slips from my hand and shatters on the ground. Carla gets upset and tells me off for being so insecure. "We're just messing around. Why do you always overthink everything?" Alex shoots me a challenging look. "Don't be upset, Hubert. Carla and I are just friends. Sometimes, I wish I'd been born a woman. Then, people wouldn't keep misunderstanding our relationship." Carla leans into his embrace and shakes her head as she looks at me. "I wish you'd stop being so sensitive about this. Stop trying to ruin our friendship." However, Carla and Alex don't know that I'm from another world. After completing my mission in the previous world, the system rewards me with one wish. Since they insist they're just best friends, I'll be more than happy to grant his wish to become a woman.

After we got married, Lucy Xander and I maintained a shared expense ledger. Every expense went into it. Nothing was spared, be it big expenses like houses and cars, to little things like condoms. We split everything 50-50. When I did not have enough money to pay for my mom’s funeral, I had asked Lucy to lend me some. She made me sign an IOU and charged me interest at the bank rate. We got into a car accident. I shielded Lucy with my body and suffered severe burns. We were three dollars short for the surgery. Lucy flipped through our ledger and frowned. “I gave you 1,314.50 this morning. I’ve already paid my half.” My face went pale. “Then, treat the rest as a loan.” “You still haven’t paid off your last loan. Your credit is already overdue.” I lowered my head and saw a link in our chat. [Dream Guy Loans] “Try this site. You can get the money within ten minutes, and the interest rate is low.” The next second, Lucy’s childhood friend, Yale Lawson, posted something on social media. [Thank you, Lucy, for helping me out.] The screenshot showed a three million transfer. The note on the payment said: Voluntary Gift. When he was worried that he might lose money, she reassured him. [Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.] She was willing to cover someone else’s losses, but with me, she kept track of every penny. I looked down and booked a ticket for three days later. I was done with a marriage where everything had to be counted down to the last penny.

While packing Ethan's flight bag, I found a custom solo wings pin. The engraving on the back read: For Lark, to celebrate your first solo. Beneath the box sat the receipt for Skyler's flight school tuition, paid in full by Ethan, along with a photograph. In the photo, she was sitting in the pilot's seat. Ethan's gloved hand rested over hers on the control yoke. Seven years ago, I had sat in that same seat. Back then, I was one step away from my first solo flight, but Ethan talked me out of it again and again, always claiming it was "for my own good." He said flying was dangerous, that someone had to stay home and take care of things. I put down my logbook, pressed the wrinkles out of every one of his captain's uniforms, and spent seven years living by his flight schedule. Only now did I finally understand. It wasn't that he didn't want to take anyone flying. He just didn't want to take me. What made it even more absurd was that the night Skyler first flew through the clouds, I was alone in a hospital, losing our baby. I called him over a dozen times. At three in the morning, he finally called back, his voice flat and indifferent. "I just took Lark through the clouds. Next time something comes up, give me a heads-up." I put the wings pin back exactly where I found it, then pulled the crumpled ultrasound printout from the bottom of the drawer and tucked it inside the logbook that had been gathering dust for seven years. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to look back. He convinced me to leave the pilot's seat, then turned around and put another woman in the sky. So I would leave him and take back the sky that had always been mine.