Cerita Pendek & Novel

I was flying to New York for a billion-dollar project bid, rushing around to check our luggage, when my husband suddenly said, "Switch to the next flight. "The airline announced the flight was overbooked, so I already canceled your ticket." I froze. There were three of us traveling together. The female assistant was the one on standby. By rights, she should have been the one bumped. My husband explained, "Sophie's health is weak. She can't handle a transfer, and it'll be good for her to see a major bid up close. "Besides, you're just the technical consultant. It won't matter if you're late." What he didn't know was that without my core encryption key, that contract could never be signed.

It was the fifth year of my secret marriage to the CEO. At the company's annual gala, her male assistant got down on one knee and proposed to her in front of everyone. The way she looked at him was filled with nothing but affection. Caught up in the crowd's cheers and chants, she said yes. After the gala, I signed the divorce papers and handed them to her. Her assistant put on a sheepish, apologetic face and said, "I'm so sorry—I just wanted to know what it felt like to propose. Please don't be upset, Mr. Gabehart." She rushed to comfort him, then barely glanced at me and said, "You'd better think this through. At your age, honestly—who else would want you if you leave me?"

Out of sheer kindness, I brought my drunk, heartbroken coworker home for the night after she'd been dumped. Little did I know, she'd treat my place like it was her own. "Isla, I gave my ex my whole paycheck. I'm just gonna stay here for the rest of the month. You've got this huge place all to yourself anyway—such a waste. It's perfect, we can keep each other company. And hey, no rent. You're already cooking for yourself, so what's one more plate, right?" I stopped typing and blinked, trying to process what she was saying. She kept going, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna take advantage—I'll chip in 2 bucks a day. Honestly, you must get so lonely living alone. Aren't I sweet for offering?" I just stared at her, barely holding back a laugh at her blatant audacity. That evening, I slipped out of the office early, went straight home, and deadbolted the door behind me. No matter how much she knocked and yelled from the hallway, I didn't budge. The next morning, she stormed over to my desk and slammed her hand on my cubicle wall, her tone dripping with accusation. "You were home last night—why didn't you open the door?! I had nowhere to go, had to crash at a hotel, and between that and food, I dropped 60 bucks. You owe me." She shoved her phone screen—payment receipts on full display—right in my face. I couldn't help it—I laughed out loud. If she wanted to play that game, fine. If she thought she could push me around, she was about to learn what real-world consequences looked like.

My husband, a military colonel with whom I’d been married for ten years, was barred from entering our son’s funeral wake. Because before our son died, he made three final wishes. The first wish was not to tell his father about his death just yet, as he was afraid the news would upset him. Secondly, to cook his father’s favorite meal and let his father be there for his final birthday. Lastly, if his father were to miss his birthday, then under no circumstances—no matter what—never allow that man to appear before his grave. Even though the man’s eyes were bloodshot and his body was shaking as he cried his heart out in the torrential rain lashing outside the funeral home, I never let the man take a single step toward my son after his death. Three days earlier, after spending a whole night setting fireworks with my childhood friend and her son, Logan Pearce came home with a brand-new schoolbag. That was his idea of making up for missing our son’s birthday. The man frowned, puzzled by the tears in my eyes. “Isn’t it just one birthday? I’ll make it up to him next time, won’t I? Little did he know that our five-year-old son had already died from an asthma attack. The little boy would never live to see the first day of school.

Amanda Gordon, my girlfriend, could never get quantities right. She always purchased one extra of everything. On our dates, she always ordered for three. “Oops, I ordered too much. Why don’t we invite Kevin too?” On my birthday, she bought two gifts. “Oops, I bought one too many. Why don’t we give it to Kevin?” After a while, I grew used to it and simply accepted that as my new normal. On the day of our wedding attire fitting, Amanda suddenly reached out and stopped me. “Leigh, the suit I designed for you is over there. This one is for the best man. I had it made for Kevin.” I looked up at the best man’s suit in front of me. It was sharply tailored, with clean, structured lines and tiny silver crystals set into the collar. The groom’s suit she had left for me, meanwhile, was plain, wrinkled, and stained. I finally decided to leave her at that moment. She had given the only bespoke suit she could commission to Kevin Burg. There was nothing left in this relationship worth holding on to. I quietly looked at my phone and sent a message to my former professor, Lawrence Hindle, who lived far away in Westmere. [Dr. Hindle, does your institute still have an opening for me?]

On the day the college entrance exam results are released, I rank first in the entire province. A top student from another school, Heather Cliffton, publicly reports me for cheating on the Englorian exam. She says, "Someone who's never scored above 145 points in Englorian could never have a higher total score than I do." My seatmate, Louis Henderson, steps forward as a witness. He says, "She copied my answer sheet during every exam." The Department of Education launches an investigation, and my admission to a top-tier university is put on hold. My mother cries all night. My father is nearly fired from his job. The entire internet brands me as a cheater. During a livestream, Heather chokes back tears and says, "I just want justice for myself." I am about to explain when she adds, "If the one who scores 145 points in Englorian can sit down and pass an Englorian college entrance exam paper on the spot, I'll kneel down and apologize." I smile. I'm a Canalian-track student. I don't even take the Englorian paper in the college entrance exams.

On the day of the divorce hearing, the judge went through the usual questions. “You’ve only been married for three years. Are you certain your marriage has broken down beyond repair?” I forced a bitter smile. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the table. “We were married for three years, yet we were never together for all three years. “Your Honor, is there anything left between us?” We dated for five years before marriage. My name was pinned at the top of his WhatsApp. I was his emergency contact. I was even the beneficiary of his insurance policy. I thought I had married the right man. But on our wedding day, he received a phone call, and his face instantly turned pale. I asked him what happened. He only said his mother was sick. He left everything behind and immediately booked a flight back to his hometown. For the next three years, he sent me photos of his three meals every day, but his mother never appeared in any of those photos. I felt sorry for him. I even offered to quit my job and go back with him to take care of her. He had refused and said softly, “I can’t bear to let you do that.” A month ago, I saw a cancer influencer’s account online. Orion Young appeared in one of her vlogs. The caption was heartwarming. [He’s there when I wake up. He’s there for every meal. His hands are always there for me to hold.] What did that make me? For 1,095 days, I had only myself. He had been lying to me. The judge struck the gavel for the final time and asked, “Have you made your decision?” I nodded firmly. The court officially ended the marriage. I looked at the divorce judgment in my hands, and my tears finally fell. I thought, “Orion, I’m setting you free. I’m setting both of us free.”

At my dad's funeral, Dawn Arnold pushes my wheelchair from behind. Suddenly, she speaks up. "I heard you screaming for help the day you and your dad got roped into that tragedy." I stiffen up instantly before looking up at her in disbelief. "Didn't you tell me that you weren't home at that time?" Dawn's gaze falls on Dad's portrait on the altar. She replies coolly, "It was a lie. At that time, I had just finished having sex with Felix. My legs were awfully limp, so I didn't open the door for you." I remain rooted to the wheelchair, my throat closing up from shock. "After you went through the amputation, you suffered from the phantom limb pain so much that you had to take sleeping pills in order to be able to sleep. So, Felix and I keep screwing on the spot next to you in bed. "We aren't exactly quiet, you know. But you've never woken up. Isn't it thrilling, Shane?" I can only stare at Felix Tanner, who's quietly wiping his tears a short distance away. He's the survivor of the break-in case from ten years ago. Back then, Dad was the one who helped him throw the killer behind bars, only to get murdered in cold blood by said killer, who had just gotten out of prison. In fact, that killer is also the one who chopped off my leg…

On my very first day studying abroad, my mom brought her real son back home. Within two years, he had won over every single person in the family. By the time I came back, she tossed a signed disownment agreement in my face. "To be honest, I've always thought you were pretty selfish. All you care about is money. You refuse to hand over control of the company, and you never show any real concern for us as parents. Thank God my real son isn't that cold-blooded. So do the right thing—hand over your shares and walk away from this family on your own." She stood there waiting for me to break down, to beg her to let me stay. But I just let out a quiet sigh and pulled out a DNA test linking me to my grandfather—her father. "Mom, I'm not your biological son—that much is true. But I am the biological grandson of the man who actually runs the Harrison family. The one who should be leaving the Harrison family isn't me—it's you."

In Silver Hollow, a girl could not leave her family home as a bride until the groom's family had prepared a complete set of seven silver wedding pieces. For six years, Logan Carney promised me that my bridal set would be ready soon. But every year, one piece was still missing. So I waited. I waited until the girl everyone once called beautiful became the woman people whispered about behind her back. In the seventh year, I emptied my savings and secretly ordered the silver crown myself. It was the most expensive piece, but I told myself it was worth it. I loved Logan, and I wanted to help him. But on the day I went to give him the crown, I stopped outside his door. Inside, I heard his younger brother, Caleb Carney, speaking in a low voice, "Logan, are you seriously giving this year's silver crown to Abbie? You have been giving her one piece every year for seven years. She already has a complete bridal set." Logan laughed softly. "Abbie is different. She's wild, and everyone in town treats her like one of the guys. She is afraid no man will ever marry her, so she wants a full silver set to prove she is still worth marrying. Giving it to her doesn't hurt me." Caleb was quiet for a moment. "And what about Julia?" he asked. "What if she finds out? What if she gets angry and marries someone else?" Logan snorted. "She has waited for me for six years. If she were going to leave, she would have left long ago." Then he said the words that shattered the last of my heart. "Besides, she is already twenty-eight. Who else would want her now? Let her wait one more year. Once she is almost thirty, she will be grateful just to marry me. A woman like that won't dare act proud anymore." I stood outside the door, feeling as though my heart had been ripped wide open. At that moment, I finally understood the truth. For seven years, I thought I had been waiting for my wedding. All along, Logan had been building someone else's. If that was how he truly felt, then it was time for me to find myself a new groom. I dialed a number I had buried for years. The moment he answered, my voice trembled. "I'm getting married in three days," I said. "Will you come steal me from the wedding?"

Before we submit our college applications, I help our homeroom teacher hand out each student's sealed official records envelope as the class monitor. But the class belle, Vivian Nash, says she's an art student who's about to debut as a celebrity. To thank everyone for taking care of her, she asks the whole class to tear open their sealed envelopes and slip one of her glamor shots inside so they can "share in her good luck." My boyfriend, Brandon Dunn, immediately steps up as her childhood friend. He says he doesn't just want one of her photos, but he also wants her autograph on his envelope. Afraid something might go wrong, I immediately warn him that opening the sealed envelope could negatively affect his application to Caldoria University's School of Foreign Service. Before I can even finish speaking, Brandon kicks me hard in the stomach. The other students laugh and mock me. "You're just stirring up trouble for no reason. Everyone knows what you're really thinking. You're just afraid Vivian will get back together with your boyfriend!" I'm so furious I can't even find the words. But due to my responsibility as the class monitor, I call our homeroom teacher over and forcefully stop the absurd stunt. Later, everyone gets into their dream colleges. Well, everyone except for Vivian. At our class reunion six months later, Vivian suddenly bursts into tears in front of the entire class. She accuses loudly, "Why did you isolate me? It's your fault I made a mistake on my college application!" I'm dumbfounded. Suddenly, she grabs me by the throat and forces poisoned liquor down my throat. I die before I can be saved. After my death, Brandon and our classmates all defend Vivian. They even paint me as the class bully. Meanwhile, she goes viral by livestreaming her sob story and quickly becomes a rising celebrity. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment Brandon is eagerly playing the gallant knight backing up his damsel. This time, I take the initiative and hand him his sealed envelope. "I think Vivian is right. It'd be nice to keep one of her photos as a souvenir."

The night before the tender meeting, my own brother suddenly kicked me out of the project team. "You don't need to attend the tender meeting tomorrow. Give the opportunity to Jenna. I specifically turned down the Wetland Project so I could personally accompany her to the meeting." I froze. Then I rushed off to argue with him, only to run into my fiancé in the corridor as he handed a USB drive to the intern. When he saw me, he spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I've already handed the proposal you prepared to Jenna. She'll handle it just fine. You're the CEO's daughter—you don't need this one achievement. Jenna's just an intern. She needs the results more than you do." The two of them stood on either side of the intern, looking at me like I was nothing. The project I had poured a full month of effort into had just been handed over to someone else to claim. Just then, I received a message from my father's secretary. 'Ms. Cladwell, the chairman wants you to take over your brother's Wetland Project. If you perform well on this project, you'll become the company's heir.'

My roommate, Katie Lloyd, is a hardcore environmentalist. Even in a hundred-degree heatwave, she locks the AC remote in her drawer. "We're going to sweat in the summer anyway. Just suck it up and consider it your contribution to saving the planet." That night, there isn't a breath of wind outside, and our dorm feels exactly like an oven. My head pounds from the stifling heat as sweat pours down my face. When I try to steal the key, Katie stands on a chair and snips the AC power cord. "Can't you see Mother Nature is running a fever? You're really selfish for making more greenhouse gases." In my last life, this is the exact night the entire school starts hunting me down with insults. Everyone calls me spoiled, claims I have no empathy for nature, and praises Katie for having a sense of mission. In the end, I suffer cardiogenic shock from the heat, without even getting a chance to call an ambulance. Katie weeps on camera, claiming my health failed simply because I eat too much processed junk food. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very first day of the semester. Katie's dropping the AC remote into her drawer, asking me with tearful eyes, "A little heat won't kill you, right, Jane?" I grab my phone and medical records and head straight for the resident advisor's office. "I'd like to request a single room, please." Anyone else can play the martyr if they want. I'm just looking out for my own life.

Everyone said Alice Foster was heads over heels in love with me. Even when my father and I were kicked out of the house, she still insisted on keeping her marriage vows. She even rehearsed them ninety-nine times because she envisioned a perfect wedding for us. Little did they know, all the best-men at the wedding were picked among a list of the ninety-nine lovers she kept around her. “Oliver, you're already my husband. It’s not too much to ask to let them attend the wedding, is it?” I numbly accepted the box of cash she handed me before rushing to the hospital. The wedding was supposed to be for me. That was, until I saw her walking onto the stage with the child my mother birthed out of wedlock. I could not hold back my tears anymore and questioned her. “Why did you pick him of all people?” Alice smiled faintly, "I'm pregnant with his child. “Take the high road for once, would you? Don't be like your father who has to go around begging for medical bills from his son at his old age.” I clutched the money and ran out of the hall while enduring the jeering gaze of the crowd. I got to the hospital just in time to see my father jumping to his death. After his blood splattered on my face, he turned to me with his eyes wide open and gasped with his last breath, “Oliver, quit begging her.”

The night before our big offline meetup, my roommate took one look at my internet boyfriend's photo and declared it was a fake. "Using a stolen photo for an online romance? He's definitely insecure and too ugly to show his real face!" The next day, my boyfriend texted: [Sorry, something came up at the last minute. Can you wait half an hour?] I breathed a sigh of relief because I had just been notified about an exclusive expert lecture on campus. Word was, the speaker was an academic powerhouse, and the university had paid a fortune to secure him. I snagged a seat in the front row. But the moment I looked up at the podium, my stomach dropped. Why did this famous scholar look so much like my boyfriend in the "stolen photo"?

Xavier Galvan's first love, Winter Singleton, happens to return to the country on the same day our daughter, Tina Galvan, is diagnosed with a heart condition. I wait helplessly with my five-year-old Tina at the hospital for her results. Meanwhile, Xavier drives to the airport to pick up Winter and her son, Ian Becker, just so that he can feel like he has a father to pick them up. I sign the surgery consent form alone while sitting by Tina's hospital bed. Meanwhile, Xavier takes Winter shopping at the mall and even picks out a birthday present for his newly-appointed "godson". On the day of Tina's surgery, just before she's wheeled into the theater, she grabs Xavier's sleeve tightly, refusing to let go. "I'm scared, Daddy. Can you please stay here with Mommy and wait for me?" He agrees. However, a split moment later, Winter calls him. "Xav? Ian's looking for his 'daddy' everywhere at the birthday party. Can you please come over?" Xavier doesn't even hesitate as he pries Tina's fingers, one by one, from his sleeve, and says, "It's just a small surgery, Tina. There's nothing to be afraid of. "Winter needs Daddy now, but I'll be back soon afterward, okay?" Then, Xavier turns to leave. Tina doesn't cry. However, the first thing she does after coming back out of the surgery is to refer to him by a different address. "I don't want Uncle Xavier as my daddy anymore, Mommy."

Colonel Rachel Melton promises me she will only stay by her first love's side during his depressive episodes 99 times. Yet, the moment I mark down the 99th time, I catch them locked in a tight embrace. After that, I no longer stand in her way when she goes to him. I only ask her for a good luck charm to serve as our child's first birthday gift. At the mention of our child, Rachel's expression softens. "When I get back, I'll make sure to give Diana a wonderful first birthday." "Okay," I murmur, completely omitting the fact that I have submitted our divorce papers ten days ago, and that our daughter died on the very day she chose to be with Todd Weber. Now, we are already divorced.

Castellora, Santoria. "You're the illegitimate daughter. So what does that make your kid?" Dante Locatelli looked at the pregnancy test in my hand. I froze. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Means he's illegitimate too, babe." Before I could even breathe, he kept going. "You're my side chick now. I'm marrying your sister. She's the real Ambrosi daughter. She actually fits my life." "What about me? What about our baby?" He lifted a brow, that cocky little smirk sliding onto his face. "If you can be illegitimate, why can't he?"

During interviews, Ashley Freeman always smiles when she says that I'm the man behind her success. She claims that it is only through my support that she has become queen of the courtroom. Now, I have just secured the final cross-border merger for her. Her firm will officially rank among the global elite the moment this contract is signed. I rush to the airport carrying the merger documents, preparing to board my private plane and fly out to Tedlar Street to seal the deal, but I am stopped at the boarding gate. "Ms. Freeman gave strict orders. She's taking Mr. Luke and Mr. Collins to Swakosland for a vacation today. No outsiders are allowed on board." "Outsiders". The word leaves me briefly speechless. Through the door of the VIP lounge, I spot Ashley sitting inside. She cradles a three-year-old boy in her arms, while Eddie Collins, her first love from college, sits right beside her. The boy snuggles in her chest, his tiny hands clutching the lapel of her coat. He looks so familiar and comfortable with her, as if he has been held this way from the day he was born. "Mommy! Daddy said the three of us will fly on a giant plane to see the snow!" Ashley doesn't correct him. Instead, she kisses his cheek with such gentleness that she feels like a stranger to me. "That's right, sweetie. Are you happy?" The three of them lean in close to one another, looking like the picture-perfect family. After staring at them for a long time, I let out a soft, low chuckle and dial a number on my phone. "Pull every authorization and funding agreement I've ever signed for Ashley in the last ten years." Since she believes she already has everything, I'll destroy everything I've spent the last decade building for her.

My wife and I had agreed to spend the holiday at my parents' house. Right before we walked out the door, she said, "I forgot to change my address again. The package was delivered to Grant's place!" I went still. Three years of marriage, and yet she had never once updated her default shipping address. A microwave she ordered online was delivered to her ex-boyfriend. She said it worked out, since his microwave was broken anyway. The anniversary gift she had picked out for me was signed for by her ex-boyfriend. She said it would be too awkward to ask for it back. The Valentine's Day gift she ordered for me online ended up in her ex-boyfriend's hands. She said she could not give me something secondhand, so she let him keep it. This time, she was ordering a holiday gift basket, and I had reminded her two weeks in advance. It still went to her ex-boyfriend. I kept my voice as steady as I could. "Go get it back. Drive over there right now." Her expression darkened. "He already signed for it. How am I supposed to get it back? We'll just pick something up on the way." "Get it back," I said. "Do you have to be so petty?" she snapped. "You're a grown man. You always have to make such a big deal out of everything." Every time something ended up at her ex-boyfriend's place and I asked her to get it back, that was the answer I got. My hands clenched until the knuckles went white as I watched her slam the door on her way out. I ignored the dull ache in my chest and sent a message to my lawyer. "Happy holidays. Could you please draft a divorce agreement for me? Thank you."