短編ストーリー＆小説

After I find out that Harvey Lupton has cheated on me, I give him three chances. The first chance is used up when I dig out the love letter that the 18-year-old Harvey had given me with trembling hands in the past. The current Harvey accepts the love letter with an apologetic and guilty look. Then, he deletes Rebecca Sherman's number right in front of me. The second chance is used up when I produce the wedding video of the successful and confident Harvey coming over to pick me up on our wedding day from my phone. Harvey watches the video for a very long time. After that, he tells the security guards to kick Rebecca, who's here to borrow money from him, out. But that night, he drowns his sorrows with alcohol. The third chance is used up… today. I hand my pregnancy report over to Harvey outside Rebecca's ward. There, he lights a cigarette. I choke on the smoke and begin coughing non-stop. Yet, Harvey's gaze never leaves Rebecca, who's inside the ward. The answer is extremely obvious at this point. At that moment, I know that there's no such thing as a future for me and Harvey anymore.

Seven years into our marriage, my husband Theo ordered me an Americano, the way he always did. Except I'd just told him, again, that caffeine made me sick. The moment I opened my mouth to say something, his phone rang. He stood up and walked out without a word of explanation. Half an hour later, Lydia posted to her socials. "Thanks to a certain someone for taking time out of his insane schedule to fix my plumbing. Also, the fresh hot cocoa was incredible." The comments filled up with people gushing over her. Steam curled off the mug in the photo. It made the drink in my hand feel even colder. Lydia and Theo had grown up together. Seven years ago, within months of each other, they'd both rushed into marriage. The difference was that Lydia had married a man who hit her. Night after night, Theo would peel himself away from me and run off to defend her. Sometimes he'd fought with her husband and end up at the police station. It happened more than once. I used to think it was just his sense of justice, so I always cleaned up after him and smoothed things over. Now I could see it for what it was. He'd given so much of his attention to someone else that all I got were the leftovers, neglect and a cold shoulder. Fine. This love had already gone cold. I didn't want it anymore.

On my ninety-ninth rebirth, I stopped fighting with the real heiress, Lily Hart. I accepted every false accusation she threw at me and let my relationships with my two childhood friends fall apart. I told myself it was fine. At least Wayne Fall was still on my side. That lasted until Lily's birthday gala, when her gown suddenly slipped and nearly left her exposed in front of everyone. Wayne pulled her into his arms and, for the first time, turned his anger on me. "Do you even remember who you are? You're not a Hart by blood. What makes you think you can compete with Lily?" What he didn't know was that every time I tried to expose Lily, everyone I cared about died in horrifying ways. In the first life, my childhood friend, Adrian Cole, was crushed beneath a freight truck, his skull shattered. In the second, my cousin, Ryan Hayes, fell from a skyscraper and was torn apart on impact. In the third, my fiancé, Wayne, was trapped in a blazing fire and burned alive... Adrian and Ryan threw me into the estate's artificial lake. I couldn't swim. Water flooded my lungs until tears streamed down my face, but no matter how desperately I begged for help, neither of them reacted. By the time my consciousness finally faded away, someone dragged me out of the water. Then I heard them talking. "Looks like she's finally learned her lesson. At least you won't have to keep hypnotizing her anymore, Wayne. I was starting to worry all those pills would fry her brain." "There'll definitely be some cognitive damage... But we didn't have a choice. Lily's the Harts' real daughter. If she refused to give in, she'd end up being pushed out of the family sooner or later." So, the countless "rebirths" I'd experienced were nothing more than an illusion. I'd simply been hypnotized. But I never needed to cling to a place in the Hart family. I had a family of my own too.

On the day we got our marriage license, Ryan Miller laid down a rule: now that we were married, if we slept in separate rooms for more than a week, we were automatically considered divorced. So every time we argued, the moment he picked up his pillow and headed for the guest room, I'd immediately give in and apologize, no matter who was at fault. For three years, he used that one rule to control me completely. On my 28th birthday, he stood me up again because of an intern at work. When he got home, I didn't reach for the diamond necklace he held out to me. He frowned, studying me for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice cold. "So, in your eyes, a birthday that comes every single year is more important than someone's life? I took Katie to the hospital and came back as fast as I could, but you still want to pick a fight? Emily, your jealousy honestly scares me." With that, he turned and walked toward the guest room. But this time, I didn't follow him.

I fell in love with a mysterious stranger online. Morpheus. For three months, I’ve fallen asleep blushing at his blunt, dirty texts. "Can you feel how much I crave you, sweetie?" "I saw you in my dreams again last night. Writhing beneath me, screaming my name." I was finally ready to ask him to meet. Then he sent a photo. Just a casual shot of his desk. But right in the center sat an ancient book. Stamped on the cover was a crest I knew all too well: the Ouroboros of the Valerius vampire clan. And I happened to work at the exact museum where the Valerius clan stores their immortal relics. For three whole months, I had been sexting an immortal predator. A vampire who was probably watching me from the shadows every single day. While my brain was spinning, trying to piece together his face, my eyes landed on it. The custom blood-garnet signet ring I had helped "Morpheus" design... was currently gleaming on the finger of my boss, Alistair.

Nora Blythe

My husband, Michael Grant's mistress, Lucy Lovelace, is demanding a break-up with him once again. Heartbroken, he drowns his sorrows with alcohol to the point that he has to get hospitalized due to stomach bleeding. Still, Michael keeps mumbling, "She's the only one who has the guts to treat me like this." Then, he grabs my hand and says, "Darling, you're a woman too. Tell me, how should I appease Lucy this time?" Well, Michael has cheated on me so many times. Lucy is the only one he's ever fallen for so far. My phone buzzes at that moment. It's a text from Lucy. "Mrs. Grant, please keep your husband in check! Don't you have any pride as a woman? Tell him to stop bothering me already!" I just smile mockingly. As always, I don't bother responding to Lucy. On the fifth day of Michael's hospitalization, he spams my phone with countless calls. When the latest call goes through, he questions me emotionally, "I'm hospitalized, you know! Why haven't you shown up at all? Do you even care about me as your husband?" I reply calmly, "I'm worried that if I do show up, you'll fall in love with me again."

After a car accident left me with amnesia, a woman claiming to be my girlfriend proposed to me in the most heartfelt way. Everyone around me said I'd been waiting for this moment for seven whole years and urged me to just say yes. In my past life, I nodded along without thinking twice. Her childhood best friend, who turned out to be the long-lost biological son of my parents, ended up going with them to Neller City—and completely leapfrogged into a whole new social class. As for me, I followed Estelle Camden back to her hometown and became just some ordinary guy from the countryside. Cooking, doing laundry, taking care of her bedridden father—I did it all, for thirty years straight. But Estelle left to find work in the city just a year after we got married, and she'd only come back once every few years. The money she sent was barely enough to keep a beggar going. It wasn't until I lay wasted away on my deathbed, barely clinging to life, that I finally saw the truth in her cold, calculating eyes. She let out a sigh of relief and confessed, "The couple who came looking for their child back then—they were your real parents. They're worth hundreds of millions. But you? You're so ordinary—what right did you have to that kind of life? So I gave the DNA test to Derek instead. "Derek is handsome and clever. He deserves the good life way more than you do." When she saw the rage burning in my eyes, she just gave a careless little smile. "You know, sometimes I actually felt guilty looking at you. But now, you're finally about to die—so I guess that's one less thing weighing on my conscience." Right after she said that, I coughed up a mouthful of blood and died, seething with regret. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that hospital bed—and Estelle was asking me to marry her.

The first time I have an affair, it's with my wife, Josephine Yates' best friend, Lydia Bennett. When Josephine catches us red-handed in bed, I'm in the middle of enjoying myself, my cheeks insanely flushed. Josephine gets into a huge fight with Lydia afterward. Then, she proceeds to drink her sorrows away that night before choosing to forgive me. After we've patched things up, we grow even more lovey-dovey than when we first got married. In fact, we're known as the golden couple who are envied by all. That is, when Josephine catches me cheating on her again on our tenth year anniversary. This time, I'm sleeping with Victoria Fairfax, the senior whom Josephine admires and respects the most. Josephine is so furious that she almost suffers from a seizure on the spot. Having gone batshit crazy, she decides to commit joint suicide with Victoria. I can only sigh before pulling her into my arms. "This is my last time doing this. I promise that you're the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life." Josephine is in so much pain and agony that she's on the brink of despair. Still, she believes my words and treats me even better now. She showers me with lavish gifts, be it luxury watches, unique custom-fitted apparel, or limited-edition racing cars. As long as she can afford it, she'll strive to give me the best. Some people call me a freeloading husband. That night, Josephine makes sure that those people have vanished off the face of the earth. When I tell Josephine that I don't want children, she gets her tubes tied immediately. Everyone praises Josephine for being devoted. They also claim that I've married the right woman. I just smile and nod. "I've used up all of my luck to meet Josephine in my life." But on Josephine's 34th birthday, she spies a paternity test report on my desk. That's when she suffers from a complete mental breakdown. The child is mine, and yet she's never given birth before.

To realize my brother’s dream of getting a girlfriend in college, my mother drugged me just before the start of the semester, knocking me out for three straight days. By the time I came to, my brother had taken my spot at an Ivy League school. I bought a train ticket there to expose him as an impostor. However, my mother broke my legs and locked me up in the cellar. She bolted the door to the cellar. “I’ve taught you time and again to put your brother first, but it goes straight over your head. It’s just college. It won’t kill you to let him take your place. “You ought to reflect on your behavior. I’ll let you out once you’ve learned how to be part of the family.” With that, she left to play poker with her friends. For the next ten days, my presence was the last thing on her mind. She didn’t bother to send me food. It wasn’t until the weeds in the field had grown tall enough to need clearing that my mother finally unlatched the cellar door. By then, hunger had already taken me. No longer would I pull those weeds again.

Zachary Lawson brought his pregnant secretary to my bridal store for a fitting. They had chosen a white gown. His friends were in the VIP lounge, betting on how long I'd last before I'd lose it. I lasted until the very end, where his secretary had tried out the final gown. I was still there, taking her measurement down to the precise decimal. "I can't believe your wife took your mistress' measurements. Her patience is impressive!" Zachary had sunk into the couch's soft caress, flicking his cigarette. "She's a barren woman who lives on my money. She'll have to get used to the part. I don't need a stepmother to manhandle my son." I pulled the tailor's tape back and showed them the bill. "The measurements are perfect. Two million. That's the deposit." Zachary tossed an asset split agreement over to me. "Sign this. Wendy's mood swings are horrible during pregnancy. She's not staying put unless she gets to be my wife. I'll need you to get a divorce and not take a single cent. Once the baby's here, I'll take you back into the fold." I signed the papers without even a moment's pause. Then, I tore the check into tiny little pieces.

After I voluntarily gave up my position as the team's starting carry to my boyfriend's first love, he was pleased by how obedient I had been. As a reward, he moved our wedding date forward. But on the day of the ceremony, his precious first love, consumed by jealousy, pressed a dagger against herself and begged through tears, "Ethan, please don't marry her. Please." Ethan, who had always been cold and composed, instantly panicked. He pleaded with me over and over, begging me to save her life. Every guest at the wedding was waiting to see me make a fool of myself. Instead, I stayed calm and quietly handed over my place as the bride. Seeing how understanding I was, just as I had always been, Ethan's eyes reddened. "I promise this is the last time I'll let you suffer. As soon as the wedding is over, we'll get our marriage license and make it official." But he had forgotten something. This was the ninety-sixth time he had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with him. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I had repaid the debt I owed him for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away for good. From that day on, our paths would never cross again.

When I'm paying the heating bill, I find out that my wife, Violet Jensen, has two accounts under her name. The first account belongs to our home. The second account goes to a unit in a high-end private residential area. The remark on the account shows two words that say "love nest". Love nest. I don't know who on earth Violet is sharing that nest with, but I know where that address is. After all, that's the apartment I bought at full price before my marriage.

Ever since I was young, I've always been the one made an example of. It's as though I exist solely to teach my older brother, Irwin Blanchard, a lesson. When Irwin spends 50 dollars in an online game, Mom makes me pay off the debt for Irwin so that she can teach him to cherish money. When Irwin gets caught for stealing, Mom forces me to kneel down in front of the store owner and slap myself repeatedly while begging for forgiveness. This is her attempt to teach Irwin to always feel shame and be humble. After Irwin starts junior high, he gets addicted to soft drinks. That's when Mom fills soda bottles with pesticide and places them in the most obvious spots in the living room. When I accidentally drink from a soda bottle, I'm in so much pain and agony that I keep rolling all over the floor. Dad quickly drives me to the hospital that night. On the way there, we are flagged down by a traffic officer, who's there to catch those who drink and drive. Even though Dad has already passed the breathalyzer test, Mom exclaims while laughing, "Your device really is useless! He already had a bottle of beer, and yet it couldn't even detect the alcohol in his breath!" Meanwhile, I feel as though my guts are on fire as I curl up in the backseat. Yet, Mom turns to stare at Irwin. "You see now? This is what you get for drinking!" Too engrossed in nagging Irwin's ear off, Mom fails to notice the fact that my breathing is growing weaker. Mom, are you happy now that your lesson has cost me my life?

I'm down with a 104-degree fever, so I want to apply for sick leave. But my wife, Nadine Sullivan's assistant, Terrence Lowell, denies my leave and forces me to take on an overtime shift. "Ms. Sullivan has gone on a trip to a tropical island with her 18th lover. So, I'm the one calling the shots at the company for the time being. "You're not allowed to leave the company without my permission." Terrence makes my life difficult on purpose just so he can kiss up to Nadine. That's how he becomes her 19th lover. Unwilling to accept this fact, I call Nadine on the spot. But she says to me coldly, "Terrence's word is good as mine. It's just an overtime shift; what else can happen to you? You're so dramatic, Barry." Disappointment surges into my heart at that moment. "Let's get a divorce." Nadine just smiles mockingly. "Do you even have the guts to divorce me, Barry Thorpe? All you do is cause trouble nowadays! Don't forget that you still need me to pay for your mom's hospital bills every month!" As soon as the call is over, Terrence starts a poll in the company's group chat. "Barry has brought up divorce again. Do you think he'll go through with it or no?" Nadine quickly votes "no". But what she doesn't know is that I've already made all preparations to leave her for real.

On the day of our wedding, my husband's assistant deliberately found an excuse to make me step outside. She put on a wedding dress and walked onto the stage before I did. She officially played the part of the bride. When my husband found out, not only did he not stop her, but he even held her hand with their fingers intertwined. He gazed at her lovingly and completed the wedding ceremony with a look of pure happiness. When I finally realized what was happening and was about to confront him, my husband immediately lashed out at me, "You were the one who showed up late and delayed the wedding ceremony. Do you expect all those guests to just sit there and wait for you? Can you be any more selfish? "Mia was only trying to help us with the wedding. Don't act like you're the victim after benefiting from it. I'll just make it up to you and hold another wedding for you later!" My friends were all stunned. They thought I would throw a fit after hearing such ridiculous words from my husband. Instead, I nodded and said he was right. Seeing how calm I was, my husband became even more pleased with himself. He said that since we had already received our marriage certificate, he would hold a proper wedding for me once he had time. He seemed to have forgotten one thing. We had just signed our divorce agreement yesterday.

Three years into our marriage, my wife brought home a ten-year-old boy. She said he was the orphaned son of her late best friend. I believed her. I treated him like my own child. Until I found official records listing that so-called orphan as my son. When I confronted my wife, I saw a pinned message on her phone. “Thanks for working so hard, babe. Once Noah is old enough, I’ll make sure Lucas leaves with nothing.” My world collapsed. They thought I was just another fool they could play. They forgot one thing. My last name is Barner. And my father serves as the deputy commander of the Southern Command.

A boy I supported and raised called me one day, his voice bubbling with excitement. He told me he'd finally found his biological parents. It turned out he was the long-lost heir of the prestigious Carter family, one of the ten most influential families in Kingsford. I was genuinely happy for him. After everything he'd been through, he'd finally found his family. I prepared countless gifts, looking forward to celebrating his homecoming with him. But the celebration never came. Instead, he vanished without a trace. I went to the Carter estate myself, only for the butler to frown in confusion. "A long-lost heir? Mr. and Mrs. Carter have only ever had one son." My heart sank. I hired people to investigate. In the end, what awaited me was an unidentified corpse in the Carter family's private hospital. The boy I had watched grow up would never smile and call me Ed again. Instead, he lay motionless inside a morgue freezer. The so-called homecoming had never been about bringing their son home. He simply was a compatible heart donor for their real son. My sweet, well-behaved Owen... The family he longed for and the future he dreamed of had both led him straight to his death. Just then, an invitation to the Carter heir's birthday gala arrived in my hands. Good. The Carter family, was it? I would soon find out whether they could survive making an enemy of the Blackwell family, the most powerful family in Kingsford.

Our son's birthday celebration had just come to an end when my wife of seven years smiled and asked, "What do you think about one wife having two husbands?" "What?" I stared at her, certain I had misheard. Before I could make sense of the question, my half-brother walked in, holding a three-year-old boy’s hand. I was still trying to process what was happening when Nancy leaned back with casual ease. "I asked them to come." She reached down and took the little boy's hand, her smile impossibly gentle. "Let me introduce you. This is my son with Julian. "He was born the year you were stationed overseas to manage the Scott family's branch office." The words made my mind explode, leaving it completely blank. She calmly revealed the truth. She and Julian had been together for four years. "I know you've always blamed Julian for your father's death. “I suffered through hiding them for four years out of consideration for you." Her gaze never wavered. "I don’t want them living in the shadows anymore. I want them here by my side." I struggled to stay on my feet, my voice trembling as I forced out the words. "What are you saying?" Nancy raised a hand and gently brushed her fingertips beneath my reddened eyes. "I just want you to be a little more generous. Don't interfere when I spend every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday with them." After a brief pause, she added matter-of-factly, "Or you can divorce me, but our son will stay with me." She smiled as though she were discussing nothing more important than the weather. "I just don't care about you anymore. Even if our son stays with me, I can't promise I'll take good care of him." Ignoring the color draining from my face, she looked at me indifferently. "So… "Have you decided which option to choose?"

On the day I'm diagnosed with dependent personality disorder, my family treats me like I'm the most fragile porcelain. My parents put me first in everything. Mom even quits her executive job to stay by my side during treatment. The day my condition finally stabilizes, they smile with genuine relief for the first time. Even my adopted older sister, Winifred Linberry, smiles. She says, "I told you Sadie wasn't that sick. She just wanted to hog your attention." That day, my parents scold her for the first time and insist she apologize to me. On the night she goes to a class reunion, I quietly mention that my heart feels a little uneasy. Dad suddenly slams the medicine box in his hand onto the floor. He roars, "Can't you be a little more considerate? Your sister just lost her competition and she's already upset! We've spent every day revolving around you. Can't we spend just a few hours with her? "If you don't feel well, take your medicine yourself. We've had enough!" The pills scatter across the floor. He grabs his jacket and storms out, slamming the door behind him. Mom looks at me, as if she wants to say something. In the end, she says nothing and follows him out. I don't say a word. I simply dig my fingernails into my arm as my breathing becomes more and more difficult.