Cerita Pendek & Novel

At my engagement ceremony, Luke Brown's first love suddenly appeared. He kissed her right in front of everyone and rekindled their old romance. "I'm sorry, Claire. I can't lie to myself," he said to me. "No matter how hard you try, you'll never be her." The ceremony turned into a joke. But later, when the most powerful man in Grento took my hand, Luke finally panicked. "Wait, the one you love is me," he said. Anderson Brown chuckled and pulled me into his arms. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Claire West."

I was working overtime at the mall on New Year's Eve, only to witness my boyfriend proposing to the broke student, whose scholarship was funded by my family, on the biggest screen in the place. I was about to step forward and confront him when she, with tears in her eyes, accepted the proposal. "Being confessed to in my family’s own estate… is so romantic and meaningful. Thank you for loving me so wholeheartedly for five years." As soon as those words left her mouth, the two embraced, sharing a deep kiss amidst the cheering crowd. They even won the "Best Couple" award for the night. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I volunteered to present them with their prize. I couldn’t wait to see what fate had in store for two pieces of trash standing together.

My brother brings home a scheming girlfriend. He wants to kick me out of the house for her sake and claims that everything at home belongs to him. I hand the company over with both hands and leave without hesitation. Less than a month later, my brother, who can't manage the company, grovels at my feet and begs me to return.

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.

In my ninth year of being with Tyler Freeman, he flaunts his relationships with other women while I'm only allowed to come and go from his bedroom. He doesn't acknowledge me as his girlfriend, yet he allows his friends to address me as such. I have a name but not an identity. His friends are bored during a private party and want me to perform a strip dance on stage to liven things up. I expect Tyler to at least turn them down on my behalf, but all he does is sip his wine and say, "Go on. You're the owner of this place, aren't you? Aren't clubs supposed to satisfy their patrons' needs? Don't let my friends down!" I look at him emotionlessly. I don't cry or throw a fuss. Instead, I splash a glass of liquor in his face. The following day, I trash the club. Three months later, Tyler finally thinks of calling me. "Where are you? Aren't you gonna get the hell back here? Do you really expect me to beg you to come back? Do you think you're worthy of that?" I pull my newlywed husband to the camera. "Sorry, Mr. Freeman. I'm getting married. You don't need to come, but do get me a wedding gift." Unexpectedly, he threatens to show my husband intimate videos of me when he sees me in a wedding gown.

I crave excitement in my life. To do that, I send my deskmate a video of me pleasing myself with a toy. Bit by bit, it awakens his desires…

In my previous life, my brother and fiancé teamed up to sabotage my company for the sake of my so-called best friend. After I went bankrupt, they stood beside her watching me collapse in the pouring rain, laughing mockingly at my pathetic state. "Linda Turner, you look as pathetic as a drenched dog!" they sneered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the project bidding meeting three years earlier. In my previous life, when my company was just starting out, my brother and fiancé had warned me against using the Turner and Peterson family connections. They claimed it wouldn't be fair to others, but then turned around and handed projects to my best friend under various pretexts, just to see her smile. Now that I was back, I watched them secretly manipulating things just like before, giving my projects to my best friend. I finally gave up on them completely. When they found out I was leaving the country, my brother and fiancé set off fireworks all night, celebrating that they'd finally gotten rid of me, the burden. But three years later, at the Trada Corp's bidding meeting, I took the stage as the CEO's wife—and they couldn't hide the redness in their eyes.

My husband promises to go to my hometown with me for the New Year holidays this year after I go to his. But before the trip to my hometown is due, he suddenly tells me he doesn't want to go anymore. I argue with him about this, and he pummels me with a bat. Meanwhile, his family eggs him on, telling him to kill me. Intense pain shoots through me as the blows land. I try my best to fight back, but I can't win against the majority. As the sky darkens, everyone heads home for dinner after giving me a good beating. When I regain consciousness in a corner of the garden, I see sense.

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

My boyfriend, Christopher Linden, was short of 20 thousand dollars for his medical treatment. To get the money as soon as possible, I participated in a rich man's game onboard a lavish cruise. I didn't bat an eye as I jumped into the ocean to search for a bracelet one of their female companions had dropped in the water. As I choked on the ocean water, I heard the man in the lead mock me, saying, "I've seen plenty of the dirty things people are willing to do for money, but you take the cake. You're even willing to give up your life for it." Someone teased, "Your girlfriend doesn't like money and is willing to forgo everything to care for you. Do you love her?" He snorted. "She's just a peasant from the countryside; I'm only fooling around with her. You have no idea how coarse her hands are—they disgust me whenever she touches me. How could I possibly fall for her?" I turned ashen at his words. He was Christopher, who was supposed to be wheelchair-bound. He was also supposed to be too broke for surgery. The peasant from the countryside he was talking about was me.

In the second year of our marriage, my husband cheated on me with his first love and even had the audacity to ask me to step aside. So, I activated the system and made the two lovebirds swap bodies. Now, I couldn't wait to see if the husband burdened with a massive debt in place of his dream girl, and the dream girl waking up to a fortune overnight, could still maintain the “unbreakable love” they claimed to have.

My CEO boyfriend promises that he'll only complete 99 wishes with his first love—she's lost her memory after being injured. However, I see them curling up in each other's arms when the wishes are completed. Later, I stop pestering him about him caring for his first love. All I ask from him is an anklet for a baby—I want it as a remembrance of our child's birth, which is happening soon. His gaze softens at the mention of the child. "Once I'm done with this, I'll accompany you shopping so we can pick out things for the baby." I nod compliantly. I don't tell him it's already been a week since I asked a lawyer to draft a breakup agreement. In fact, we're already broken up.

I made the decision to break up with Layla Freeman as I opened my eyes once more. She wanted to take Charles Jones and his son home so she could take care of them, so I would logically leave. I had a lot of arguments with Layla in my former life because of Charles and his son. She paid for Charles’ son’s wedding using the money I had saved for my retirement. Ultimately, the bitter cold killed me in the winter. When Layla found out about that, she was not filled with sadness. Rather, she accused me of dying on her godson’s wedding day. I would leave her and not have anything to do with her in this life.

She coveted everything about me. My possessions, my experiences, and even my men. So one night, my mother pushed me into an older man's bedroom. The next day, she asked with a smug smile, "Nina, how was your night with the older guy?" I rubbed my sore waist, recalling his broad shoulders, long legs, and trim waist from the night before. I smiled as I answered her. "That fiancé of mine is all yours now. Just remember—I’ll be your Aunt-in-law in the future.”

I have a premature rupture of the membrane when I'm 38 weeks pregnant. I have no choice but to undergo an emergency C-section. To my surprise and dismay, the anesthesiologist is my ex-boyfriend, with whom I broke up eight months ago. God, save me! Could I please have another anesthesiologist? It's my ex-boyfriend's child I'm giving birth to, and I suddenly don't want to bring the child into the world anymore!

I receive news of my husband being hospitalized after accidentally eating mushrooms causing hallucinations. I ignore the pain in my sprained ankle and limp to the hospital. When I enter the hospital ward, my husband sidesteps me. Instead, he excitedly throws his arms around the young woman behind me. "You're finally here, honey! I missed you so much!" The young woman gives me a challenging look. Then, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, her face red. They cling to each other and act all lovey-dovey like there's no one with them. After a while, my husband seems to realize I'm there. He scratches his head in embarrassment, looking like a young man who's just fallen in love. "Mom has done a good job in maintaining her appearance, honey. She doesn't look like she's 50 at all."

My daughter is gravely ill, and her medical bills cost a bomb. My husband gives up on treating her. Then, he turns and runs into the arms of his childhood sweetheart, Chelsea Davies. Amid my despair, my first love, Elliot Cox, transfers five million dollars to my account. He cares for my daughter with me. However, my daughter ultimately fails to escape death. Six years later, Elliot and I have our own child. When I head to the hospital to visit one of my friends, I accidentally hear Elliot's conversation with a doctor. "You and Ms. Baxter have your own child now, Mr. Cox. What if she finds out the truth of what happened back then?" "Chelsea was gravely ill at the time; I had no choice but to pull some tricks to have the child's heart transplanted to her. Besides, Holly's pregnant again now, isn't she? It's high time she lets go and moves on." Only then do I discover that my daughter was misdiagnosed on purpose. Elliot took her heart and had it transplanted in Chelsea's body.

The whole world knows that Rachel Saffron is Matt Quillon's and Sean Coal's true love. My best friend, Winnie Hamilton, and I are merely substitutes for Rachel. It seems like I'm the love of Matt's life, and Winnie is the only woman Sean has ever had eyes for. However, we both know this is nothing but an act.

Nine years into my "non-cohabiting partnership" with Simon, his father passed away. The first condition in his will was simple: Simon and Ella had to conceive a child. On the day the child turned one month old, Simon would inherit his father's fortune. Simon told me this himself—the night I walked in on them tangled in our bed. Afterward, as he took a slow drag from his cigarette, he murmured, "Lily, just wait a little longer. Once I get the inheritance, I'll marry you." But he went back on his word. From then on, every time Simon planned to meet Ella at our house, he would hang a string of bells on the door. Since his father's passing, those bells had chimed ninety-nine times. After the ninety-ninth, the news arrived—Ella was pregnant, and their engagement party was set. My daughter saw the invitation, hesitated, then softly asked, "Mom, is Daddy's name on this?" I forced a smile and gently smoothed her messy hair into a neat ponytail. "Daddy is marrying the one he loves," I said. "And I'm taking you home." Simon never understood—I never cared about that marriage certificate.

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.