Histórias curtas e romances

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.

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I collapsed in the pack clinic after my ninety-ninth blood donation to my twin sister, Maeve. She'd been cursed since birth—a curse that could only be sustained by my blood. Our shared bond from the womb was the only thing keeping the dark magic at bay. When I woke up, the healer told me I had developed Aplastic anemia—a rare condition where my bone marrow was failing. Years of constant donations had finally broken my body down, and my wolf, Aurora, was too weak to fight it. I rushed to tell my family, hoping that this time would be different, only to find them at the bakery ordering a custom birthday cake with only Maeve's name on it. They'd forgotten my birthday entirely, even though we were twins born five minutes apart. At first, my sacrifice was met with love and praise. Now, it was nothing more than an obligation everyone expected. My family had chosen Maeve over me countless times before. This time, I decided to choose myself. I had two weeks before I would slip away from this pack house and their lives. Two weeks to prepare everything in silence while they remained oblivious. They would think I'd finally learned my place as Maeve's blood supply. But they would never realize I was counting down the days until I disappeared from their lives forever. By then, it would be too late.

After the most wanted bachelor in Renowoods, Marvin Chambers, lost his memory, he began to pursue me relentlessly. I dated Marvin for three years and fell hopelessly in love with him. Just when I was about to tell him I was pregnant, I overheard a girl who used to bully me say to him, "Thanks for pretending to lose your memory and pulling 99 pranks on Serena just to avenge me. "Once you hit 100, I'll be your girlfriend." That was when I finally understood—Shirley Hunt was the one Marvin had always loved. And I was just the fool he used to make her laugh. Later, I died in a plane crash. Marvin lost his mind searching through the wreckage, only to find a single ring. Inside, it was engraved: [Hope You'll Love Me After 100 Pranks]. They say he collapsed crying in the debris and had to be rushed to the hospital after passing out. When he woke up, he turned against everyone who had helped him prank me. Meanwhile, I stood smiling in the snowstorm of Frontania, watching as my medical records went up in flames. He had faked amnesia to win my heart, so I faked my death to teach him a lesson.

When my wife brought her lover home for the fifth time, I decided enough was enough. I said nothing, not a word of complaint or protest. Instead, I superglued the windows shut and locked the bedroom door from the outside. From the bedroom came the muffled sounds of her little escapade, breathless and feverish, carrying through the walls like a shameful melody no one asked to hear. Calmly, I sat in the living room, picked up the phone, and called my mother-in-law. "Jessie," I said, putting on my best tone of urgency, "it's bad—real bad! Your daughter's locked herself in the bedroom and says she's gonna end it all!"

The university student, who was my wife’s lover, had set a KPI for them to sleep together 12 times a month. However, she was too busy this month, so they only slept together 11 times. In light of that, the lover, Sam Reid, started crying and protesting by starving himself. In order to please Sam, Tanya came to me, her husband. “John, please tell him that I didn’t sleep with you this month. Just a short explanation would do.” As she said, we had not slept together for a long time. I would not be able to breathe whenever she touched me. She tried a few times, and I ended up requiring emergency care. Since then, she no longer dared to touch me, but she still claimed that she loved me the most. However, she went on with her affair. I called Sam and said calmly, “Tanya only belongs to you, and she’ll be yours in the future.” After I ended the call, Tanya thought that I was jealous, so she comforted me. “I’ll always love you too.” However, I no longer wanted Tanya. We were separated for almost two years, so the court would grant our divorce.

In my family, fairness was practically a law. It all started with my older siblings, Xander and Kendra Hale. They were twins, and neither of them could bear the thought of the other getting even a little more. The smallest hint of favoritism was enough to start a fight. Because of that, everything had to be equal. If Xander got something, Kendra needed one too. If Kendra received anything, Xander expected the same. My parents followed that rule so strictly that almost everything in our house seemed to come in pairs—one for him, one for her. I learned early that I was never part of that equation. When I was still a child, I once looked at my mother and asked, "What about me?" She snapped before I could say anything more. "Your brother and sister already make things difficult enough. Can you please not add to it?" That was the last time I asked. Years passed, and I got used to being the one left out. Then my father bought a six-seater SUV. There were only five people in our family. For the first time, I looked at all that empty space and thought, maybe this time, there would finally be room for me. I should have known better. On the morning of our family road trip, rain poured from the sky as I stood beside the car with my bag clutched in one hand. Two empty seats should have been waiting for me. Instead, Kendra's cat was curled up comfortably in one, while Xander's dog had taken over the other. I stared at them through the open door. Xander noticed immediately and pulled his dog closer. Kendra barely looked at me before rolling her eyes. "We already agreed to keep things fair. You're not taking my cat's seat." For a moment, I just stood there. The rain soaked through my clothes until they clung to my skin. Cold water ran down my face and into my collar, yet nobody moved. Eventually, my father looked over with obvious annoyance. "Why are you still standing there? Don't you have something else to do?" My hands were already numb from the cold. I looked at all of them sitting comfortably inside the car, then smiled. "Actually, I do. I'm not going." I turned around and walked back into the house without another word. A few minutes later, I opened my laptop and submitted the study-abroad application I had been putting off for months. For twenty years, I had waited for my family to give me the same fairness they fought so hard to protect. That morning, I finally understood the truth: they had always made space for me, but there was never truly a place for me. Once I realized that, I stopped waiting for one.

Late at night, my husband came home with a young model. "So, you are the washed-up wife that Mr. Dawson keeps at home?" The girl looked at me with a mocking smile and said. Jay Dawson, my husband, reeking of alcohol, glanced between us with interest. He then hugged the young girl and led her into the bedroom. I sat alone on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, and listened to their shameless noises all night. I endured it for two years. Our agreement had finally ended this year, and so had my love for Ethan. I walked away. But Ethan chased after me like a madman.

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

I accidentally recover my memories. I can't wait to tell my wife, Krystal Merrill, about the good news. But that's when I overhear her conversation with the doctor. "Ms. Merrill, are you sure you want to transform Mr. Stuart into a merman? That surgery only has a 0.01% survival rate. You've already mixed his family's ashes with his medication and made him swallow everything. Even if you're doing this to protect Theo, there's no need to go this far!" Krystal replies icily, "No way! Randy must become a merman! If not, what will happen to Theo? All Theo did was hit and kill Randy's parents by accident! I'm doing this just in case something happens to Theo! "Besides, once Randy becomes a merman, he will be able to fulfill the perverted clients' desires even more!" I can only tremble uncontrollably as I stand at the doorway. I can't believe that the woman I love the most is actually the culprit behind my parents' tragic death as well as my amnesia and disability. Since this is Krystal's choice, I should let her have her way, then.

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

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.

At my wedding, my fiancé abandoned me at the altar and walked straight toward my sister, Hazel. All the guests mocked me. Someone remarked, “As expected, there isn’t a man in the world who won’t fall for Hazel—this is already Ivy’s fifth boyfriend who has confessed his feelings to Hazel.” Hazel put on a helpless look, "Sorry, Ivy. I was just trying to help you test your fiancé’s loyalty. Looks like I’ve messed up your wedding again." I stood there, humiliated, but then Alessio Vitale—the most feared mafia boss in New York—stepped forward. He took my hand, looked at the priest, and married me instead. After that, Hazel tried more than once to catch Alessio’s eye. But every time, he called her out in front of everyone. “Hazel, you should know your place. Stop throwing yourself at me,” he’d say, his voice cold and sharp. For three years, Alessio gave me everything. He made me feel safe, cherished, like the luckiest woman in the world. One day, I came home early from a business trip and wanted to surprise him. When I reached his study, his underboss’s voice rang out from inside. “Don Vitale… the Donna’s sister is pregnant with your child. What if she finds out?” Alessio’s answer came low and flat. “Hazel and I… it was just a mistake. Ivy must never know. Keep it from her. I’ll make it up to her later.” I was stunned by the revelation. My heart ached at his lies. Instead of confronting Alessio, I turned away and quietly returned to our bedroom. He had promised me honesty when he married me. Yet, now he lied. So I would leave him—and I would never look back.

My online boyfriend dropped a bomb on me the day before freshman orientation day. He had been playing dice with a group of friends and lost a bet. Apparently, I was the prize. Before I could even figure out whether he was joking, he added me to a gaming group chat packed with more than a hundred people. The announcement at the top had already been changed. "Congratulations, Oliver! You just won yourself a 200-pound girlfriend!" A few seconds later, someone posted an old high school photo of me. It was a picture of me in my loose school uniform. As I was at nearly 200 pounds, my neck had practically disappeared into my shoulders. The chat instantly erupted. "Holy shit! That's not a girlfriend. That's a pig in human form." "A bet's a bet. Oliver, you have to do the couple challenge with her tomorrow." The jokes only got worse from there. Before long, someone even started a betting pool over whether I would have the nerve to show up the next night. My own boyfriend threw 10,000 at me and then backed out. "Don't blame me, man. You rolled a six. You won her fair and square." Oliver, the guy who had supposedly won me, stayed completely silent. Then, the girl everyone in the freshman group had already crowned the hottest girl on campus suddenly tagged me. "Lauren, you're coming tomorrow night, right?" I watched message after message fill the screen. Then, I smiled. They had no idea that I had spent the past several months preparing for the day I finally met my boyfriend in person. I was no longer the girl in that photo. I had gone from 200 pounds to 110. I'd been stopped by plenty of guys over the past two months. I'd gotten so many men asking for my number in the past couple of months than I had during the first 18 years of my life combined. None of the people laughing in that chat knew any of that. And I… Well, I didn't see the need to explain myself. Instead, I quietly put 3,000 on myself. My bet was simple. I would show up exactly on time. The entire group chat went crazy the moment they saw it. Mocking comments, jokes, and laughing emojis flooded the screen. I didn't say anything, letting their jeers fill the screen. Then, I sent one final message. "A bet's a bet."

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Then he pulled out his phone and sent me a message: [No matter where you are, come back immediately and sign the donation consent form.] [Don't be so selfish! Kelly is seriously ill. If she doesn't get a transplant soon, she'll die. It's just bone marrow—I'm not asking for your life!] [If you keep refusing, I'll stop paying for your mother's medical bills!] Caden… I died the moment you walked away from the ski resort with Kelly. The avalanche buried me and our unborn child beneath the snow. My mother, in her desperate attempt to save me, was torn apart by wild wolves. How could you not know?

I forgot to bring a No. 2 pencil, so I filled out my SAT exam with a red pen. The proctor warned me it would count as cheating, and I just shrugged and told him it didn't matter. Tyson Jenkins, the school heartthrob who ranked near the bottom of the class, suddenly got anxious. In my last life, we went back to school to pick up our acceptance letters. I already had a guaranteed spot at Kingsford University. And yet, I was the only one who didn't receive a letter. Tyson had used a system to swap our exam scores. Because my score showed up as zero, Kingsford University revoked my guaranteed admission. I demanded a review of the scoring, but Tyson, who had suddenly become the top scorer out of nowhere, sneered at me. "Kieran, couldn't cheat your way through the exam this time, huh? Everyone knows you only got that guaranteed spot by cheating. You've got some nerve playing the victim!" I went to our homeroom teacher to clear my name. I never expected her to cry on camera and say, "I tried to talk Kieran out of it in private. It's not fair to the other students if he does something like that, but he used his family's influence to pressure me into staying out of it." Overnight, I was at the center of a storm. Before I could even explain, a group of fanatics dragged me up to the roof and shoved me off. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before the exam.

My sister Brenda fell in love with Don Joseph Genovese because he saved her life once. She thought a man that dangerous had chosen her. Then she learned the truth. Joseph had only pulled her out of that riot because she looked like his wife, Maria, when Maria was young. Any sane woman would have walked away. Brenda decided Maria had to die. She tracked Maria’s schedule, planned a hit-and-run, and meant to play the heroic bystander after putting Joseph’s wife in the ground. If Maria was gone, Brenda believed she could take her place. In my first life, I stopped her. I knocked her out before she could make her move. I begged her to understand that Joseph was not some lovesick man from her mafia novels. He was a Don. If he found out, he would not just punish her. He would burn our whole family with her. Brenda cried. She nodded. She promised she understood. That night, she poured paraquat into my water glass. As I died, she whispered, “You ruined my shot at the big life, Sharon. So I ruined yours.” Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day she made her move. This time, I stayed where I was.

“One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” Henry asked calmly. It was my thirtieth birthday. The deadline of the promise he made beside my dying mother’s bed. But that day, he needed to take his pregnant sister-in-law to her prenatal appointment. “She’s carrying my late brother’s only child,” he said. “Why are you fighting her for this?” I wasn’t fighting for a date. I was fighting for the last shred of dignity in a fifteen-year love. The girl who once meant everything to him Had slowly become the unreasonable one. The sister-in-law who used to disgust him Had somehow become the one he needed to protect. So I smiled and said, “Fine.” And I left. Three days later, I turned thirty without him. That was the day Henry Jones began to regret it. Because soon he would learn— The baby wasn’t his brother’s. The betrayal didn’t start with me. And the woman he chose to hurt… was the only one who ever stood by him. But by then—I was already gone. And this time,He would be the one begging.

Just two days before our engagement, my fiance, Theodore Scott, kneels to adjust the hem of my dress, his fingers suddenly brushing lightly against my ankle. "Isabella, I've never seen you wear heels. You have such beautiful feet." I adjust the waistline of my gown in the mirror and answer casually, "I'm not used to them. My legs hurt when I walk in heels." "Just try them. High heels would look perfect with your mermaid dress." His palm glides up along my leg, stopping at the back of my knee. He murmurs, "Red-bottom stilettos—each step would sway so gracefully, and the way they'd peek out when you walk… You'd look breathtaking in them." I look up and catch his focused, burning gaze in the mirror. "Since when do you know about these things?"

At the auction, my Alpha mate, Antoine Swanson, dumps 30 million dollars into a wolf fang necklace that's embedded with rubies so that he can give it to his puphood sweetheart, Kailyn Greene, as a pregnancy gift. Then, he makes an announcement to all the wolves in the pack. "Four years ago, my Luna, Irene Welch, betrayed me by stealing all of my money and escaping with it during my darkest, lowest moment. Kailyn was the one who had stayed by my side the whole time and helped me make my comeback. "Today, I'm willing to repay her love for me a thousandfold." That's right. I've disappeared from the pack four years ago. Everyone thinks that I've betrayed the pack and left with the money I've stolen, including my own mate. I've become the stain of the pack. My parents spit on my name, whereas my mate hates my guts. Even my older brother, Jason Welch, who used to dote on me the most, has announced that he has severed all ties with me. Insults and demands hurled at me have never stopped since my disappearance. That is, until the council makes a huge breakthrough in a major crime case one day. Jason, who's the chief warrior of the pack, finally discovers that the headless female corpse that has gone through the worst death… belongs to me.