Plot Twists Romance-Kurzgeschichten & Regret-Kurzromane

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.

I was two hours late the day we went to see the wedding apartment. By the time I rushed over, Serena Dupree had already signed the purchase agreement and was leaning her head against Ryan Hale's, deep in discussion about the renovation. They'd gone from debating a gaming room to a nursery, and now they were arguing over whether the master bathroom needed a bathtub. Nearby, a middle-aged couple watched with amused smiles and teased Ryan. "You two are clearly decorating a newlywed home, young man. In a marriage, the husband listens to the wife." Ryan coughed, awkward, and glanced at Serena, whose face had gone faintly pink. "Fine, fine, whatever she wants." I stood a little way off, watching Serena and Ryan go back and forth, settling every detail of my own future home between the two of them. The three of us had grown up together. When we were kids, they were the ones who decided which school I'd attend, then let me know afterward. When we grew older and Serena and I started dating, they were the ones who picked the restaurant for every date, the destination for every trip, and told me where we were going. This time, even the wedding apartment, apparently, all I had to do was wait for them to tell me. Over the years, I'd turned into the shadow of the two of them. A shadow doesn't get a voice. It just keeps its head down and follows along. But even a shadow gets tired. Even a shadow can stop dead on some overcast day and refuse to take one more step forward.

I had been dating a photographer for seven years, yet I didn't have a single decent photo of myself. "I only photograph scenery, not people," Nina Jensen said. She even said her last relationship ended because her ex-boyfriend kept asking her to take pictures of him. So for seven years, I stayed quiet. I never asked or brought it up. That was until today, when I came across the latest post from my influencer friend, Julian Locke. [Let me show off my photographer. She's been taking amazing photos of me for seven years for free!] One of the top comments is: [It's an honor to photograph my muse.] The profile picture was completely white. The tone felt familiar, and it sent a chill through my entire body. Turns out, it wasn't that Nina didn't take photos of people. She just never wanted to take mine. 'Nina. If I don't exist in your viewfinder, from now on, you don't exist in my world either.'

After my parents got divorced, my mom settled in Teania for good. Every year, I would receive a [Happy Birthday] text message from overseas. However, she never replied to the messages I sent her. I had always wanted to ask my mom in person if she actually cared about me. So, before my SATs, I worked like crazy to save money. I was even afraid I would not be able to resist spending it, so I gave the money to my boyfriend and asked him to keep it for me. However, just as I was about to buy my plane ticket, my boyfriend sent me a screenshot showing that my balance was zero. He brushed it off casually. “Last time we played Truth or Dare, I lost a wish ticket to your best friend. “She said she wanted to go see the Auroras, and there was a ‘buy two, get one free’ deal on mystery flight tickets. So, I bought two tickets. We’ll just have to visit Teania another time.” I struggled to keep my voice from trembling. “Lennon York, if you go see the auroras, we’re breaking up.” His expression did not change. He just reached up and ruffled my hair. “Don’t be silly. Once I’m in college, I’ll get a part-time job. Then, I’ll definitely take you there during semester break, okay?” I looked downwards and smiled. I messaged my childhood friend, whom I had not spoken to in a year, and typed. [Is that wish slip you promised me still valid?]

Gianna Connor and I make plans a month in advance to take my parents on a trip. My parents arrive in Havenport the night before the trip, worried they might miss our early departure and keep Gianna, their future daughter-in-law, waiting. The next morning, my parents and I wait downstairs early, but Gianna never shows up. Worried that something has happened to her on the way, I call her more than a dozen times, but she doesn't answer. On the 20th call, she finally picks up. "Everett's mom has a follow-up appointment today. I need to take her in for a full checkup. We'll have to do the trip another time." Before I can say anything, she hangs up. Dad smiles, trying to comfort me. "We'll just go another time." But Mom can't hide how much she's hurting for me. "Jayden, this isn't the first time she's stood you up for some old classmate. Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with a woman like that?" Dad shakes his head at Mom, then rests his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle pat. "Your mom and I will always have your back. We'll never stand in your way. Follow your heart and make the choice that's right for you. Whatever you decide, we'll support you." I look down at the engagement ring I've worn for eight years. Gianna, can I still trust you?

My boyfriend, Zack Henderson, has a notebook that he specially uses to record my mistakes. He writes down every time I'm late for our dates, even if it's only by a minute. He also makes a note whenever the breakfast I buy for him gets cold. Once I make a total of ten mistakes, he punishes me by blocking my number for a week. Terrified of upsetting him, I do everything I can to keep him happy. I assume that Zack acts this way out of habit because he's a strict science student. However, I realize I'm wrong when I find a diary under his bed while helping him move into his dorm room. The diary is filled with photos of the prettiest girl on campus, Quinn Lombardt. "Her clumsiness is adorable." Zack writes when Quinn damages his limited-edition figurine. "I'm willing to travel as far as I need to to satisfy her cravings." He writes when she asks him to buy a viral cake in the middle of the night. On the last page is a hand-drawn wedding dress design. "I'm going to give Quinn the grandest wedding ceremony once she graduates." I place the diary back in its original spot. Then I make a call to secure my spot to further my studies abroad.

My fiance, Wayne Garner, has a rare condition called hyper-empathy syndrome. Yet somehow, I'm the only person he cannot empathize with. When I develop acute gastroenteritis and the cramps become unbearable, I force myself to call Wayne and beg him to take me to the hospital. After listening to me, Wayne simply says, "Andrea has a slight cold. I have to take her to the hospital first. Hang in there." I remember during our first family dinner, Andrea Graham calls him and says she's feeling down, and he rushes off to be with her. I instantly tell him we should break up, but he grabs my hand and keeps promising it will never happen again. After that, he does keep his promise and stops responding to Andrea's requests for help. I secretly rejoice, believing that staying by his side long enough will eventually correct his misplaced empathy. But now, the same thing happens all over again. The pain in my abdomen keeps getting worse, leaving me with no choice but to dial the emergency number with trembling hands. While I'm in the ambulance, an Instagram notification pops up. Andrea has posted a photo of herself with Wayne at the hospital. The caption reads, "It's only a minor cold, yet someone still takes the time to bring me to the hospital. It feels so nice to be someone's top priority." Another wave of sharp cramps passes. I look at the job offer from Warler in my inbox and accept it. Wayne, I'm really leaving you this time.

My older sister, Nina Farro, is famous in Balthor's elite circle for being indifferent and refined. But I'm the only person who knows she's just pretending. The moment she finds out she's going to be married to Tristan Conte, the heir of a powerful family in Balthor, she locks herself in the chapel of the Farro residence and refuses to leave. "I don't care how impressive the family background is or how much power they hold. All I want is a peaceful and ordinary life." She sets three conditions for Tristan. First, he has to build a chapel for her in the Conte residence where she can pray in peace. Second, Tristan has to abstain from alcohol and meat for two months before their wedding. Third, Tristan has to agree to live separately from her for three years after marriage and not touch her, as proof of his sincerity. Tristan bursts out laughing in disbelief. "Am I at the right place? Is this the Farro residence or a convent?" "Mr. Farro, if you don't want the business deal in Yak City, plenty of people are ready to take it. We'll see how much longer the Farro family can keep its books balanced." My father, Saul Farro, is quick to apologize, while his wife, Celeste Silvi, puts on a smile and says everything she can to appease Tristan. Alas, no matter what they say, Nina refuses to budge. She insists that Tristan agree to her conditions before she agrees to the marriage alliance with the Conte family. "You can't force something that isn't meant to be. Mr. Conte, if you have no real intention of committing to this marriage, then please see yourself out." When it looks like Tristan is about to storm out and call off the marriage arrangement, I take a deep breath from the corner I was hiding in and dash out to stop him. "Mr. Conte, if Nina won't marry you, I will!"

On the eve of our ninth wedding, my fiance, Jasper Preston, develops a split personality after saving me in a car accident. One personality loves me down to his very bones. The other, however, is hopelessly in love with his junior, Wendy Upton. While I'm in a half-dreaming stupor, I hear the doctor sigh. "Mr. Preston's two personalities possess immense self-awareness. I'm afraid it'll be very difficult for them to merge. If Ms. Birch insists on marrying him, she must be willing to share her husband with another woman." Sighs ripple through the room, but I remain exceptionally resolute. After all, he had risked his life to save me in that accident. How could I possibly give up on the man I love so easily? However, the very next second, I hear another voice. "Jasper, you really outdid yourself this time. I can't believe you actually made up a split personality. Still, knowing Stella's temper, won't she drag you down to hell with her once she finds out the truth?" Jasper scoffs, "She loves me so much that she'd give her life for me; she'd never hurt me. I have to teach her a lesson because she fired Wen." My heart feels as though a blade has pierced straight through it. So, the disasters plaguing our weddings aren't coincidences. Everything—every single obstacle—has just been his twisted way of punishing me. Since he's willing to go this far for Wendy, I no longer want this forced marriage. Consequently, when I come to, and Jasper puts on his split-personality act, I simply look at his sworn rival, Mason Winslow, who is standing beside him. "Honey, who is he?" I ask calmly.

The day I'm diagnosed with cancer happens to be the birthday of my wife's adopted son, Logan Smith. Before the party starts, I end up coughing up blood and ruining the cheerful atmosphere. My wife, Rosalie Smith, doesn't take me to the hospital. Instead, she locks me up in the basement. She looks down at me bleeding out on the ground and says coldly, "Xander Kastel, you really know how to pick your timing. Of all days, you had to cough up blood on Lolo's birthday. How dare you do it today?" I beg her to take me to the hospital, but she says she has already consulted the doctor and knows that early-stage cancer can't cause me to cough up blood. She's convinced I'm deliberately putting on an act to get back at Caleb Anderson, her first love. I pleaded desperately. "I am your husband! Rosalie, please take me to the hospital. I promise I'll never show up again." Rosalie's face darkens, and she grabs me by the throat. "Don't play these push-and-pull games with me. As long as you stay here quietly until midnight passes and Lolo's birthday is over, of course, I'll take you to the hospital. Once you've recovered, you'll still be the Smith family's live-in son-in-law." I keep screaming from the agonizing pain I'm in. Rosalie thinks I'm being annoying, so she takes Caleb and Logan to a hotel to celebrate instead. Some time later, she suddenly thinks of me, so she asks her secretary if my surgery has gone well. Her secretary's face pales as he answers in a trembling voice, "Mr. Kastel has… has left with Ms. Kastel."

My parents fly across the country for the tenth time to meet my girlfriend, Sienna Holloway, yet she's nowhere to be found. She doesn't answer my calls or reply to my texts. Somewhere between my third and fourth cup of coffee, I see a new post from my buddy, Nolan Prescott, on my feed. It features eight photos of snow-covered mountains, and the last photo shows two hands laced together. The caption reads, "She joined me for the tenth trip. A perfect ten." I nearly crush my phone in my fist, my veins standing out across my knuckles. After 27 unanswered calls, Sienna finally picks up. "Where are you?" Wind crackles through the speaker, and her voice comes back distracted and flat. "Out. Why?" "Why? This is the tenth time. My parents are too old to keep flying out here, and you—" She goes quiet for a second, then sighs. "God, relax. Nolan and I are having fun skiing up at Ridgeline Pass. I just forgot. "Tell them to wait three more days. I'll come see them when I'm done here." Before I can get another word out, she hangs up. My reflection stares back at me from the dark screen, my lips pressed into a thin line. After that, I smile at my parents and say, "Since she won't show, let's set me up with someone new."

Six years into our long-distance relationship, I've finally saved enough to buy a house. I want to surprise my girlfriend, Madeleine Petty, so I secretly travel to the city she's living in, planning to propose. When the receptionist hears that I'm looking for Madeleine, she beams and hands me a box of wedding favors. "You're here to drop off a gift, aren't you? Our CEO, Ms. Petty, is getting married today, so these favors are for you." I'm just about to explain that the Madeleine Petty I'm looking for is just a low-level employee when a familiar figure steps out of the elevator—Madeleine's college roommate, Tara Diaz. Seeing her dressed in a bridesmaid's gown, I ask her in earnest, "Who's getting married today? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Just then, Tara's phone rings, and my childhood best friend's voice crackles through the speaker. "Why aren't you here yet?" Sid Beale huffs. "Madeleine and Richard's wedding is about to start! The bridesmaid can't be late!"

My genius lawyer boyfriend, Shane Falkner, is always white-knighting for my community college bestie, Sabrina Langford. Sabrina can't find a job after graduation, so Shane recruits her into the law firm despite fierce objections. I am tasked with reassuring our annoyed colleagues instead. At the banquet we're holding for our major clients, Sabrina orders all the child-friendly dishes, complete with juice boxes and everything. To win back our clients' trust, I am forced to go out there and get blackout drunk. Every time I cry and make a fuss about it, Shane just responds airily, "Marina, you know I love protecting vulnerable people. Moreover, if it weren't for the fact that you and Sabrina grew up together, I wouldn't have gone so far for an idiot like her." He's had me under his thumb, and I've had to grin and bear it for three years. But that ends today. Shane has forgotten about our anniversary. Instead, he tells me in a frazzled tone, "Your trainwreck of a bestie got in trouble again. I can't believe she misplaced something as important as the IPO filing drafts for Verity Group. She's really dejected, so I'm taking her out to get her mind off things. "Marina, I'm sorry, but I need you to figure something out." Looking at the resignation letter I've already written, I put on a faint smile. "Sorry, Mr. Falkner, but I'm afraid I can no longer help you with that."

Andy Bennett had been my husband for ten years. And yeah, we were stupid in love. Lately, though, he'd gotten weirdly obsessed with some game on his phone. Every night, it buzzed nonstop. "It's new. The vibration setting is insanely relaxing." I bought it. I even got him blue-light glasses and wrist supports because he worked crazy hours and was always stressed. If a game helped him chill, fine by me. Then one night, he left his phone on the counter while he showered. It buzzed again. The screen lit up. No game. It was an app for a sex toy. A giant control wheel sat in the middle. [Remote Control] [Couple Mode] [Synchronized Vibration] Then a request popped up. [Invited by: Eunice Seaton.] My daughter's piano teacher.

While tidying the house, I discover that my newly bought pack of sanitary pads has been opened. Without any hesitation, I contact my lawyer to have him draft up a divorce agreement and send it to Lucas Gardner. It doesn't take long before Lucas calls me. "This again? What's your reason this time?" Biting my lower lip, I answer, "There's one less pad in my drawer."

After narrowly escaping death, I ran into the son I hadn't seen in years. He was taller now, and the cold disgust that used to fill his eyes was replaced by regret and desperate longing. He looked cautiously at me as he said, "Mom, I miss your home-cooked meals so much." I ignored him, haggling heatedly with a seller at the farmer's market. He bent down to pick up two onions that had dropped from my grocery bag. "If you were alive, why didn't you come back? Dad said the past is in the past. He forgives you." I let out an irritated click of my tongue, slapped two bills on the counter, and walked off. Suddenly, he yanked the hem of my shirt tightly. "Mom, are you abandoning us? Are you giving up on our family?" I didn't answer. Hearing him say "Mom" was utterly grating to my ears. The moment they chose to save that other woman and leave me during that shipwreck, every last shred of my feelings for them had vanished.

When Meghan Gregory struts home with a young male model and announces that she is pregnant with his child, I do not smash things or cause a scene as I did on previous occasions. I even personally cook chicken soup for her to help keep her healthy and give up the master bedroom to that man. From that day on, I become the laughingstock of Halston's high society. Those men who want to climb the social ladder all see me as an easy target. They all want to walk all over me. Meghan's close friends make fun of me, saying I am a useless man who cannot live without the Gregory family. Later, Meghan's baby bump grows bigger. She looks at me with a smug smile as I iron the baby's clothes. "Sweetheart, no matter how exciting the other men are, they're only for fun. "Don't worry. As long as you behave and do not cause trouble, no matter how many other men I have, you will always be my husband." Everyone thinks I put up with all of this because I cannot live without Meghan's money. Only I know the real reason—that I have signed a prenuptial agreement with the Gregory family. The agreement states, "Regardless of the wife's faults, as long as the husband maintains the marriage for five years, he will be entitled to 10% of Gregory Group's original shares." Now, the five-year term is over. Half of Meghan's fortune, worth tens of billions of dollars, now belongs to me.

Just after I finish a meeting, the parents' group chat for my daughter's kindergarten suddenly buzzes with activity. Someone shares a viral post. The poster writes, "A daughter is always her daddy's sweetheart. She's already using her allowance to buy her dad a birthday present! I wonder who my gentle, wealthy little princess will marry someday." The one who shares the post adds excitedly in the comments, "She's the one and only successor to the Webb family in Jemton! She's a true heiress!" The parents in the group chat eagerly offer their sycophantic compliments. They can hardly wait to offer their own sons as potential suitors for the little girl. But I'm puzzled. Other than my wife, Lucy Webb, I don't think there is any other family with the surname Webb in Jemton. Then, I open the photo attached to the post and instantly freeze. The sweet little girl smiling as she holds the gift is unmistakably my daughter, Emilia Webb, whom I personally drive to and from kindergarten every single day.

Jason Hart's mother, Victoria Hart, suffered from Alzheimer's disease, and during her manic episodes, I was the only person she would recognize or tolerate. Today, as Victoria tightly clamped her fingers around my wrist, refusing to let me leave, Jason looked at me with an expression of profound, agonizing conflict. "I already paid for the VIP amusement park passes," he sighed. "I guess I'll just have to let Jake take your spot. What a waste!" I stared down at Victoria's iron grip on my skin, feeling drained. It had become a clockwork routine: the moment Jason and I planned a romantic date, she would suffer a sudden, debilitating medical emergency. Because I felt morally obligated to stay behind and care for her, our mutual friends took turns stepping in to accompany him so his plans wouldn't fall through. My best friend went with him to catch the sunrise up in the mountains. His brother, Jake Hart, accompanied him to Disneyland. His buddy went with him on a weekend camping trip in the wilderness. But today, I accidentally discovered a group chat on Victoria's phone. It was called "Susan's Guardian Crew." Susan Jennings was Jason's ex-girlfriend. I tapped into the logs and saw the latest message. Jason: [Susan's doing a lot better. Mom, thanks for keeping Ellie occupied with those episodes.] Victoria: [Don't worry about us. Just focus on keeping Susan happy. I've got things handled here.] She then proceeded to tag the entire group: [Everyone, keep your stories straight. Do not blow our cover!] All the familiar people replied: [Got it.] My hands shook as I set the phone down. Hot tears splashed onto the screen, reflecting my pathetic expression. For five years, every date that belonged to me had gone to another woman. And the most humiliating part? The entire world was in on the joke, while I was the only clown kept in the dark.

Caleb and I were the internet's most popular couple creators. Over the past four years, we have traveled to dozens of cities and made countless viral videos. However, Caleb was the only one who ever appeared on camera. Instead, I stayed behind the scenes and did all the filming, editing, and planning the content. I was also the one who made every video go viral. Every day, people in the comments would guess. "What does Caleb's girlfriend look like?" "She must be someone beautiful and talented to win Caleb over." Initially, I had always thought Caleb was waiting for the right time to introduce me. It wasn't until one night when Caleb liked a comment. "I have a feeling that Caleb's girlfriend is Jessica. After all, they have way too many matching things." Soon, people found more proof of their relationship. A limited PR gift box sent to us appeared in Jessica's vlog. The matching mugs I picked showed up at her place. Even the jacket Caleb only wore at home could be seen hanging on a chair in the background of her video.