قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Romance وعن Melodramatic وتضم Ruthless وتدور في Regret

I'm eight months pregnant, and I suddenly go into early labor. But my husband, Aldrich Lohan, locks me up in the basement and gives me a tocolytic injection to stop my labor instead. He does all these just to ensure that his sister-in-law's baby is born before mine, so that my child won't fight for the inheritance rights. "Anton saved my life," Aldrich says, referring to his elder brother. "But now, he's gone, succeeded only by the baby in Chrissy's womb. I must let her baby inherit all the rights. Chrissy lost everything, but you're still here, enjoying everything I'm giving you like you're entitled to them. So what if you compromise a little bit for her sake?" The contractions in my lower body are hurting more than I can bear. I'm on the verge of passing out as I grab on to the hem of his pants and beg, "I swear that I won't let my child claim his inheritance rights! Please, just send me to the hospital. My child will die otherwise!" However, Aldrich just kicks me aside. "Chrissy has been pregnant for nine months. How can you be giving birth in just eight months? How would I know whether or not you're just inducing birth on purpose? I don't care. I won't let anyone steal the inheritance rights from Chrissy's baby, even if there's just a minuscule percentage of it happening." In the end, Chrissy successfully gives birth to her child, and it's only after that that Aldrich finally remembers me in the basement. "Bring Kelsey to the hospital and make them bring out the best medical equipment to ensure the safe birth of my child." His personal assistant, Edgar Salome, shivers as he says, "But Mr. Lohan… Mrs. Lohan and her child have both died…"

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

While pregnant with twins, I'm abducted three days before I'm due to give birth. My husband, Sheldon Jackson, refuses to deliver the ransom money himself. Instead, he wants to save Madison Smith, his sister-in-law, who was also taken at the same time. In order to guarantee Madison's safety, he leaves the task of saving me to someone else. "I have to protect my brother's unborn child. Harry is my most trusted subordinate. He'll definitely bring you back home safely!" However, Sheldon doesn't know that Harry Smith wants me dead. "The children she's carrying are bastards!" he says to the abductors. "We can't let them live—both the twins and the woman." I beg the abductors to let me talk to Sheldon one more time to reveal the truth, but he hangs up on me because of Madison. When he finally remembers me, he receives a phone call from the abductors. "We've dealt with your wife for you, Mr. Jackson."

The day I agree to marry James Hunt, he is eager to announce our love to the whole world. Later, when I get pregnant, he even acquires a hospital so that I can rest easy and focus on the baby. But during a checkup in my sixth month, I overhear a chilling conversation. "Mr. Hunt, the baby's developing well, but it's too large. The delivery could put the mother's life at risk." James only laughs, cold and unbothered. "So what if she dies? I only married her to give me children." The smile on my face freezes, and it feels like I have been plunged into ice. His next words cut me even deeper. "She pushed Natasha into the water, and now Natasha can never have children. This is nothing but her retribution." The perfect happiness I think I have is nothing more than a lie. So, I quietly register at another hospital and schedule an abortion. James, I hope you live to regret this.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

"Mrs. Sterling, are you sure you're ready to end this marriage of twenty years and give up the custody?" "Yes. File it. I’m done." I said calmly through the phone as I scrubbed at a stubborn grease stain on the granite island. For twenty years, I poured my entire being into this family. I managed the households, handled the children's education , and stood by my husband's side, supporting his rise in the syndicate without complaint. But my husband Alexander brought his young adopted sister Chloe to the interview, saying, "My success today is all thanks to my adopted sister." Even my own children looked down on me, calling me common and crude housewife. They had formed an alliance with his ever-present "auntie," the woman who seemed to think she was the true lady of the house. I signed the divorce papers and walked away, leaving them to become the "perfect family" they clearly wanted. But that when the family panicked…

In a fit of bravado, I save someone's life, only to sustain a head injury. Jenna Newson, my girlfriend of eight years, comes to visit me at the hospital. In order to pull a prank on her, I pretend to be amnesiac and ask who she is. While Jenna is momentarily stunned, she soon answers calmly, "I'm a classmate of yours."

The house was on fire. My husband–a firefighter–rescued our son first. And the kitten his first love had left behind. Then, to comfort the frightened woman, he rushed off without a second thought. When his colleagues asked my son if anyone else was still inside, he glanced in my direction… and shook his head. "There's no one else." I was later found screaming for help, barely alive. Outside my hospital room, my son looked at me with disappointment. "Why didn't you just burn to death in there? "If you were gone, Aunt Maya could be my mom."

I was pregnant and due any day. Austin Revelstone, my husband, had a sugar baby named Tawny Sully. Each time they renewed their arrangement, money came into my mother’s special care account. One day, he stayed a little longer to talk to me. Because of it, he was one minute late for his date with Tawny. Tawny was upset. She threw a tantrum and threatened to terminate their agreement. She would only stay if I aborted my baby. So, Austin slid the abortion form and a check for three million dollars across the table to me. “Please, just sign it. We can always have another kid. If Tawny cries anymore, she’ll get wrinkles.” He looked calm and unbothered. It was as if he were just talking about the weather. I raised my head and looked at him in disbelief. I trembled for a long time. Then, I finally signed my name on the abortion form. I wiped my tears and gave the check back to him. I made one additional request. “Let’s make that fake divorce certificate real this time.” I no longer needed his financial support for my mother’s surgery.

After my son was abducted, my husband took me to an adoption center to bring home a baby boy born the same year as the child we'd lost. I poured every ounce of love I had into raising him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I pushed through my chronic back pain to cook him special meals every single day. When he spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I carried him twenty miles through the rain to the nearest hospital. When he couldn't focus in school, I was constantly at his classroom door, flattering his teachers and bringing them gifts, just to get them to pay a little extra attention to him. Fifteen years of grinding sacrifice, and it all came down to one moment at his college acceptance party. "I couldn't have gotten into Harvard without my mother's love and hard work," he said into the microphone. He raised his glass, eyes drifting toward where I was sitting. The cameras flashed as I started to rise from my seat, matching his silent lip movements. And then I heard a name I didn't expect. "She is Rachel Lynch." I froze. That was my best friend's name.

After ten years in a coma, Margaret Rollins, the mother of Geri Winslow, Jansburke's top heiress, finally wakes up. Everyone believes she'd been pushed down the stairs and left in a vegetative state. Now that she's awake, everyone prominent in the city comes to visit. They practically fall over themselves to praise Geri, saying she's been the picture of devotion. After all, she's spent the last ten years punishing the man who hurt Margaret. Even though Geri and the culprit were high school sweethearts, she still didn't go easy on him. But when everyone is finally done talking, Margaret sits in silence for a long time. Then, she looks at them in confusion. "What culprit? No one pushed me. I fell on my own." The fruit knife falls from Geri's hand and clatters to the floor. She lifts her head and stares at Margaret in disbelief. "Mom, what did you just say?" Alistair York isn't the one who caused Margaret's coma? A terrifying panic rises inside Geri. For as long as Margaret has been unconscious, Geri has been punishing Alistair. And now, she learns that he's innocent? "By the way, where is Alistair?" Margaret suddenly asks. "I didn't approve of him back then because he came from a single-parent family, and I didn't want you dating him. I never imagined he would risk everything to save me after I fell, though. Are you two still together? Did you get married? Do you have children?" Each question lands on Geri's heart like hammer blows. Her throat tightens, and she can't speak for a long time. Because after Alistair's release from prison, she forces him into a relationship with a blind woman begging on the streets. Three years have passed since then…

The year I die, my wife, Liana Chandler, despises me more than ever before. Unable to handle her endless emotional abuse, I choose to end my own life by swallowing pills. At the crematorium, she watches the roaring flames in the cremation chamber with a rare smile. "Filth like him doesn't deserve a proper burial," she comments. When the employee hands her my cremation urn, she swiftly overturns it, scattering my ashes all over the floor in an instant. All this time, she has believed that I'm the one who caused her first love's death. So, she took great pains to formulate a plan—all for this very moment. When everything is over, she walks away without looking back, trampling my ashes underfoot. But before long, she's on her knees, begging for the funeral parlor to give my ashes back to her.