Plot Twists Romance-Kurzgeschichten & Regret-Kurzromane

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.

I used to think loving Karl Varek long enough would make him love me back. Even when high society mocked me for being a poor orphan who didn’t belong beside the billionaire heir of the Varek empire, I endured it all quietly. After all, his grandfather forced him to marry me because I once saved his life. I knew Karl never wanted me but I still foolishly believed that one day, I could become more than just his unwanted wife. I was wrong. For three years, my husband humiliated me openly. He brought different women home, let the media compare me to his beautiful ex-girlfriend, and watched silently while everyone treated me like a shameless gold digger clinging desperately to the Varek name. But the cruelest part? I still stayed. The night I discovered I was pregnant, I thought everything would finally change. I rushed to tell Karl the news only to overhear him telling his friends that I was nothing more than a burden forced onto him by his grandfather. He said I disgusted him. He said I was never worthy of becoming his wife. And while his ex sat in his arms, he looked me in the eyes and admitted he would never love me. Heartbroken and humiliated, I walked into the street and got hit by a car. But when I woke up in the hospital, I couldn’t remember the man I once loved so desperately. Suddenly, the wife who used to beg for Karl’s attention no longer cared about him. And for the first time in three years, Karl Varek panicked at the thought of losing me.

In the eighth year of being with Lydia, she finally agreed to marry me—only to back out again, just like every time before. She held the empty ring box in her hands, her fingers pausing for a brief moment before she offered an unhurried explanation. "Mason threw a tantrum yesterday because he wanted a toy. I handed it to him without thinking and forgot to ask for it back." She reached out and ruffled my hair, her tone gentle, as if she were coaxing me. "Next time, we'll definitely go through with the wedding." I took a deep breath, forcing down the bitterness in my chest. "Do you really like him that much?" She turned to look at me, brows knitted in a tight furrow. "He's like this now because he saved me back then. I can't just forget something like that." A sharp pain twisted in my chest, and my voice dropped. "He set that fire because he wanted to die with you!" She pressed her fingers to her temples, her expression worn with exhaustion. "That was an accident. It's not like he meant to. You're a man too. Can't you be a little more generous? We'll get married eventually, no matter the day. You know my legal husband will only ever be you." I watched as she lowered her head again, already replying to Mason's messages. Something inside me finally gave way. "Lydia, you win." I was done chasing after her.

Before going to bed, I stumbled onto a love confession livestream. A young man was on screen, talking about his past. "Actually, I was sponsored through college. The guy who supported me was really kind. The summer after my freshman year, I stayed at his place for a while. One night, I went to the kitchen in just a tank top and shorts to get some water, and I ran into his wife. "He thought I was still studying out of state, but the truth is, I've been living in a villa in the same city, kept by his wife. She's pregnant with my twins, so I've already taken a leave from school to take care of her. "I know I've wronged him, but she and I are truly in love. He's always been so lofty—she and I are the ones who belong to the same world." A chill of disgust ran through me. I almost blocked him on the spot, but when I tapped into his profile, I realized he had already blocked me. Curiosity got the better of me. I switched to an alternate account and searched for his ID. What filled the screen were countless photos. Photos of the poor student I had sponsored. And my wife.

After Silas Sterling and I began our long-distance relationship, he sent me a blind box every month. Each one was his way of replacing the companionship he could not give me, helping us get through the long years apart. Two years ago, Silas made me a promise. "Once I take over my family's company, I'll bring you home. I'll make sure you can stand proudly by my side." For that single promise, I waited in a city more than 1,200 miles away through hundreds of lonely days and nights. Then, inside the 773rd blind box I opened, I found a first-class plane ticket to Sutherland. On the flight, I could barely contain my excitement. My obvious happiness made the young woman beside me smile. She cheerfully showed me a photo of herself with her fiance, her face glowing with joy. "We're getting married in three days." The moment I saw the wedding photo on her screen, my fingers froze on the boarding pass I had been absentmindedly stroking. The groom-to-be in that picture was the very man I had traveled more than a thousand miles to see.

Ethan Carter is an international captain for Delta Air Lines. I'd been engaged to him for five years. In those five years,the only time I ever asked him to indulge me was when I sent him a photo of my mother's flight journal. That journal recorded the route she'd flown on her last trip: Boston to Paris. Her health was already failing by then. I wanted Ethan to mark that route for me, and paste it on the last page of the memorial album. He just replied, "I've got a transatlantic flight tomorrow. Flight safety isn't for humoring people." Last week Ethan came home on leave, and while I was sorting his luggage, I found a waterproof document pouch tucked in a lining. Inside was a full set of simulator debrief materials. A name was written on the cover: Claire Bennett. A young first officer at Delta, the rookie Ethan had personally mentored these past two years as she pushed for her international route certification. I opened to the first page. From takeoff roll to stall recovery to approach deviation, every page carried Ethan's handwritten notes. Red circles, blue underlines, black annotations, the handwriting crisp, just like the man himself. A private recommendation letter was tucked into the pouch. He wrote that Claire had "steady judgment, an exceptional capacity to learn, and the potential to join a transatlantic flight crew." Every word was restrained, and every word was precise. The most recent file had been modified last Valentine's Day. That day I'd booked a restaurant. Ethan said he was prepping for a flight and couldn't have dinner with me. I didn't cry. I didn't ask. I picked up my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Seattle. Seattle's air medical transport program was hiring a lead physician. I used to think the future between Ethan and me was something I had to wait for: wait for him to fly less, wait for him to be less busy, wait for him to finally have a spare moment to glance at my journal. I didn't want to wait anymore.

My husband, Matt Miller, suffers from severe insomnia. He can't stand a little bit of noise while he's asleep. After six years of marriage, I've gotten used to the quiet. I don't watch TV after 9:00 pm. I don't make calls or eat. I even walk on tiptoes. Everything feels worth it when I see him sleeping soundly. Until one day, when I go to his office to deliver some documents, I realize the door isn't tightly shut. His secretary, Faye Davis, is sitting cross-legged on the carpet while eating potato chips. A variety show is playing loudly in the background. Meanwhile, Matt is asleep on the couch. Just as Faye reaches forward to turn down the volume, he raises his hand and strokes her hair, all the while keeping his eyes closed. "It's okay. I sleep better with the noise." I stand outside the door, recalling the bad cold I had last month. Afraid that my coughing would wake him up, I had buried my head into the pillow all night. The next day, he frowned and complained, "You were breathing so loudly last night. I couldn't sleep at all. Keep it down next time." Amid the crunching sounds of potato chips and Matt's steady breathing, I slowly step back. Turns out the cure to his insomnia isn't silence, but a woman. Only that woman isn't me. I guess I won't be bothering him at night anymore.

After school, a student suddenly approached me to confess. "Ma'am, I like you!" My vision went black from the shock. I felt as if I could already see the teaching certificate I had worked so hard for being ripped into shreds, slipping out of my grasp. "Teacher-student romance, huh? That's against the rules. That’ll be 10 extra papers for you." The student's eyes immediately welled up with tears. "I just wanted you to be my sister-in-law! My brother is the most handsome guy in the universe. Please don't punish me! I won't say that again anymore!" I immediately let out a long sigh of relief. During a home visit, I stared blankly at the so-called "most handsome guy in the universe" standing in front of me. He was wearing nothing on top but an apron. It caught me so off guard that I thought to myself in disbelief, "Isn't he the ex-boyfriend I dumped ages ago for being too boring? When did he become so seductive?"

At forty-eight, lifelong spinster Eleanor Pembroke finally married. On their wedding night, her husband, the country's most celebrated seer, lifted her veil and spoke without warning. "Eleanor, the three fortunes I gave you thirty years ago were deliberately false." Her body went rigid. "First, I said you were born under a ruinous star and would destroy your family. In truth, your chart was exceptionally fortunate and perfectly matched mine. "Second, I said only years of hardship and self-denial could save your dying mother. I gave the medicine to your stepmother instead, and Harriet died within the first year. "Third, I said we would reunite after thirty years. You remained unmarried, while I had already married your older half-sister." Seeing her disbelief, Silas Wycliffe tried to comfort her. "Your sister once saved my life and asked three favors. A couple should repay debts together. "I have always valued honesty, so I didn't want to hide it from you. "Eleanor, don't feel wronged. I calculated that we have another life. I will make everything up to you then."

After his eighteenth failed attempt to divorce me, Jesse Pellam suddenly stopped bringing it up. Before that, every single attempt had ended in complete humiliation and chaos. I had harmed myself, threatened to jump from a building, and plastered the company lobby with intimate photos of him and his female assistant, Gianna Seyfert. At a press conference, I had even publicly stripped Gianna, leaving her with PTSD. Jesse had every reason to despise me; however, he never mentioned divorcing me again. He came home on time every day and gave me full access to his phone. He checked in with me every hour to update me on his whereabouts. Even during his business trips, we stayed connected through video calls around the clock. But I still could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Every day, I pressed him for an answer, asking why he no longer wanted a divorce. “Haven’t I done enough?” he asked. Yes, he was better than ever, almost too good to be true. It was not until he caught me following him again that he finally admitted the truth. With exhaustion evident in his eyes, he said, “I received a phone call from my future self, ten years from now. He told me that if I divorced you, I would regret it.”

I was the Whitmore family's dirty secret, an illegitimate daughter. Growing up without anyone to rely on, despised by everyone around me. The only lucky thing that ever happened to me was meeting Damian. When people talked about my birth, he stood up for me every single time. For years, he treated me with nothing but tenderness. He was the only light in my otherwise dark and hopeless life. Until someone accidentally pulled me into a voice chat room. Our mutual friends were excitedly discussing wedding arrangements. I was about to speak up, flushed with shyness. When Damian's best friend suddenly teased, "Aren't you worried Amelia will find out you're marrying Serena and crash the wedding? But don't worry, if she actually shows up, we'll lay down our lives to protect our boy's happiness." Then came Damian's voice, still gentle and smooth as ever. "She's not the kind you bring out in public. Fine to play around with on the side, but that's all she is." "At the end of the day, only someone with Serena's status as the legitimate Whitmore heiress deserves to stand by my side."

In our circle, everyone assumed that the rebellious bad boy, Dominic Ashford, was madly in love with me. A sworn bachelor, he made an exception just for me. But no one knew that on the night I miscarried, he was out street racing with his unforgettable first love, Vivian Lane. Only after losing his child did he truly transform from a boy into a man. Trading his leather jacket for a suit. Removing his ear studs and putting on glasses. Settling down to stay by my side and manage the business. I thought he had finally understood the meaning of "home." Until the day I was preparing his fifth anniversary gift and, on a whim, tried on those black-rimmed glasses he never took off. In the glow of the smart lenses, I watched my reflection in the mirror transform into Vivian Lane’s face. At that same moment, his computer screen lit up with a message from Vivian: “Dominic, she hasn’t been giving you trouble again, has she? The baby kicked me again today. When are you coming to see us?” In an instant, my blood ran cold. So for the past six months, the love I thought had finally come back to me was nothing more than Dominic looking at me through those AR glasses and seeing another woman. And his sudden devotion, his doting attention to my every need, was all just to keep me, the “stand-in,” content, so the woman he truly loved could carry his child in peace. This time, I didn’t beg with red-rimmed eyes the way I always had before. Instead, I calmly placed the glasses back where I found them and dug out the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago from the bottom of the closet.

On the day of my wedding, my senior military officer fiance took off the wedding dress I had designed myself. “You know that Crystal got hurt and can’t have children. She won’t be able to get married. Lend her your wedding dress so she can experience what it’s like to get married.” I was stunned in place, but Jordan Langford was already slipping off my dress. “We’re just going to do a wedding rehearsal so she can have the experience. Then, I’ll come home and get you, and we can have our wedding.” I looked at him, flabbergasted. I could not believe that he could say such a thing on such an important day. Jordan helped Crystal into the dress before patting me on the head and saying comfortingly, “It’s just a ceremony. You’re the woman I want for my wife. Don’t think too hard about it.” After that, he left with Crystal in the dozen-car-strong motorcade while I waited at home. Jordan was a senior military officer, while Crystal had been an army medic. Because of an injury that made her lose the ability to have children, Jordan was giving her my wedding. Tears poured down my face, and I felt my heart go cold. I bought a plane ticket back home and left without telling anyone. If that was Jordan’s choice, then I would not marry him.

The third time I caught my wife in bed with another man, I lost the ability to speak. Out of guilt, Helena spent a month teaching me to communicate with one and two. One meant yes. Two meant no. Whatever Helena said to me, if it had anything to do with Felix Danner, the answer was always one. She said Felix was in poor health and wanted to borrow the protective locket my mother left me. I answered one without hesitating. She wanted to push back our anniversary so Felix could have his birthday first. One. Even when she wanted to move the injured Felix into our house, I still answered one. And I packed my things and gave up the primary bedroom for him. Then I took our wedding portrait down off the wall. Her eyes filled and she caught my hand and wouldn't let go. "Simon, you told me that portrait never comes down unless we're divorced. Are you telling me you want a divorce?" She saw the one already forming on my mouth. Helena came apart and started screaming at me. "Simon, don't you dare say one. There is nothing wrong with your vocal cords. You can talk. So talk to me!" A second later, afraid she'd frightened me, she gentled her voice. "Simon. Say two. Please say two." I pulled my hand free and looked at her, honestly puzzled. Had she forgotten what she signed the year she loved me most? Two chances if she was ever unfaithful. A third time, and the filing instructions and settlement went into effect on their own. They'd gone into effect a month earlier.

On the day I married Vera Barrymore, her precious first love got drugged and woke up missing a kidney. Vera disappeared for three days. When she came back, she brought Sebastian Cooper home with her, freshly diagnosed with depression. I swallowed my heartbreak and agreed to help her take care of him. I had to coax him to sleep every night and feed him one spoonful at a time. It wasn't until she asked me to give him one of our children that I finally snapped. That same night, Sebastian slipped me a fatal dose of sleeping pills. By the time Vera found me, I'd already stopped breathing. She held my body and sobbed, and still chose to cover for him. "This is what we owe him. If there's a next life, I swear I'll make it up to you." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Vera first asked if I'd agree to help her take care of Sebastian.

My family is cursed. Every descendant is fated to die before turning twenty-seven. But the curse has a cure. If the person I truly love climbs Mount Elme and picks a stalk of the Everroot for me, drinking it will heal me completely. Mount Elme only reveals itself once a year. Keith Ryder had gone up five times to pick it for me. And I had waited five years for him to succeed. But every time I drank what he brought back, I collapsed almost instantly, foaming at the mouth and convulsing as I fell from my wheelchair. Each time, his eyes would go red as he looked down at me. "I'm sorry, Tori. I picked the wrong one again. But I promise, next time, I'll bring you the real Everroot." I believed him. This year, I turned twenty-seven. I drank the medicine with my whole heart set on it, and when I collapsed again, Mindy Bloom pointed at me and laughed. "Look at her twitching like that. It's like she's having a seizure! If it weren't for the weed Keith grabbed off the ground, I'd never have gotten to see a show this good." I stared at Keith, stunned. "What did she just say? A weed?" He looked back at me like I was the one in the wrong. "Mindy wanted to see it happen. What's the big deal?" My eyes went wide. My heart felt like it had been stabbed with a needle. "But you know I'm already," I started, only for him to cut me off. "Twenty-seven," he said, brow furrowing with irritation. "Isn't that exactly why you want me to marry you sooner? "Come on, Tori. Mindy's got depression. If I marry you right now, she'll feel insecure. "But I promise, once she's better, I'll bring you every miracle cure there is. Deal?" I looked quietly at his face while the wetness at the corners of my eyes dried on its own. He had no idea. I wasn't going to make it that long.

Three years ago, my best friend was hit by a car trying to save me. She had been in a coma ever since. I sat by her hospital bed, holding her hand. "Serena, you promised you'd be my maid of honor, remember? Julian and I finally set the date. Please wake up soon, okay? I miss you so much." My choked sobbing was cut short by a phone call. The nurse was asking me to come pay next month's hospital fees. But when I came back, I heard the voice I had been desperately waiting three years to hear. "Julian, you told me to wait for you while you broke things off with her." "I've waited three years for you! She comes to see me every single day, and all I can do is lie here." "Now you two are getting married. What about me!"

Halport's shipping tycoon is marrying off his daughter and making a high-profile scene by grandly parading 99 wedding ships across Lumina Harbor. Jeremy Sutton, my best friend, excitedly drags me over to watch the spectacle. I instinctively take a photo to send to my girlfriend, Hazel Shepherd. I suddenly see two familiar figures in my camera frame. Hazel, who is supposed to be working overtime, is wearing a diamond-encrusted satin wedding dress and holding the hand of her childhood friend, Chris Lussier, as they board the magnificent lead ship. I freeze for a moment, then angrily try to rush forward and confront them. But Jeremy grabs me and holds me back. "Chris has always been Hazel's fiance. You're just humiliating yourself if you walk over and cause a scene. "I feel so bad for Hazel, who pretended to be poor and stayed with you in that cramped apartment for eight years. I'm saying this as your best friend—show some self-respect and don't be a shameless homewrecker." I feel completely numb inside as the cold sea breeze brushes against my face. It turns out that the woman I have been with for eight years has been lying to me all along. Even Jeremy, my best friend, has known the truth all along and hides it from me. I suddenly receive a message from Hazel. "I just got off work and took on two more tutoring gigs, Sebastian. I'll work hard and save up the 12,000 dollars for the wedding fund soon. I'll then head back to your hometown to get married to you, Sebastian." I look at the wealthy heiress standing on the ship, finding the whole thing utterly ridiculous. "You don't have to do that anymore. Mom is telling me to return home for a blind date."

A week before Christmas, I received a year-end report titled "My Business with Your Wife." [Item one: this year's goal was to sleep with your wife a hundred and fifty times. — Exceeded.] [Item two: get your wife to buy me a mansion and a luxury car. — Done.] [Item three: get your son to call me "Dad" ten times a day. — Exceeded.] [Item four: stand right in front of you and claim what's mine. — Done.] [Mr. Wolfe, I've been taking care of your wife and looking after your son too. So, are you going to give me a bonus, or step aside like a smart man?] He'd attached a photo, labeled it "family portrait." In it, Allyson Fowler had her arm looped through his, and my seven-year-old son stood in front of them. This guy was my son's kickboxing coach. Allyson walked in just as I finished reading that special year-end report. Nervous, she said to me, "Don't go looking for trouble with him. I was the one who made the first move. It's not his fault. Take it out on me any way you want, and I'll make it up to you however you ask." My blood ran cold. I just looked into her eyes and said, "I just want you to go back to how things used to be." Back to when she was broke, stuck in the mud with nothing. She misunderstood and let out a relieved breath. "Even with him around, I won't neglect you."

When I found out my wife was pregnant with her lover’s baby, I thought I’d lose my mind just like the first time I caught her cheating, smashing up the whole house like a lunatic. Instead, I looked at our antique vase and realized it was far too expensive to break over them. It just wasn't worth it. Later, walking past a bakery, I thought seeing her buying baby supplies with Joseph would ruin my appetite. Yet, to my surprise, the cake I bought tasted better than usual. Before going to bed, that familiar dark urge to swallow a handful of sleeping pills crept up on me again. I thought I was about to lose my mind and take the most drastic measures to get back at that despicable couple when my therapist sent a message, reminding me once more to go outside and get some fresh air. So, I headed south to soak in the sun and feel the ocean breeze. For twenty-seven whole days, I didn’t think about them once. That was until my wife, Sarah, called. “There are three days left in our divorce waiting period. Don’t forget to come back so we can finalize the paperwork. “Don’t worry, Daniel. This is just temporary. After I have the baby, we’ll remarry. You know you’re the only one I love.” Only after her reminder did I remember the divorce was even a thing. This time, though, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to play their games anymore. So, with the ocean breeze on my face, I said almost without thinking, “How about this time, we end it for good?”