Short Stories & Novels

My husband claimed he was allergic to women. Even the slightest skin contact made him break out in red, swollen welts. In three years of marriage, we had never once been intimate. Even our child had to be conceived through IVF. After three failed procedures, I finally became pregnant with what I believed was our baby. On the day I was discharged, I received a video. In it, my husband was tangled up with another woman in every position imaginable. His skin was perfectly clear, except for the love bites she had left across his chest. I looked up. My husband was standing beside my bed, peeling an apple for me. He wore a mask, his shirt was buttoned all the way to the collar, and gloves covered both hands. He was protected from me from head to toe. The video had been recorded only the day before. Trembling, I reached for his collar, but he violently slapped my hand away. "Don't touch me! Stay away from me!" He looked at me as though I were filthy. That was when I finally understood. He was not allergic to women's bodily fluids. He was only allergic to me. When my husband went into the bathroom to change, I called the number I had blocked five years earlier. He answered almost instantly. "Send me your location. I'm coming now."

During a thunderstorm on the border, my fiancee, Eleanor Ashby, covers my retreat and falls down a cliff. The search and rescue team spends three months searching through flash floods without finding a trace of her. Everyone concludes she's dead. I refuse to give up and spend another two years looking for her. Eventually, I find her at a small clinic in a remote mountain village. But she's become the wife of the clinic's caregiver, Dylan Foster. That's when I learn she's lost her memory and fallen in love with someone else. In my previous life, I ignore her wishes and force a renowned neurosurgeon to use a high-risk treatment to restore her memories. The day her memories return, the man who has cared for and protected her for the past two years throws himself into the river in despair. Later, during an earthquake rescue mission, Eleanor and I are trapped beneath a collapsed mountainside. There's only one narrow escape route wide enough for one person. She forcibly pushes me out. Moments later, a second collapse buries her beneath a massive boulder. With her dying breath, she reaches through a crack in the rocks and grips my hand. She says in a hoarse voice, "Callum Pierce, these ten years we've spent together is repayment for the debt I owed you from the ten years before. We're even now. Neither of us owes the other anything anymore. "If there's a next life, don't let me remember the past. Please... let me be with him." Tears blur my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I find Eleanor. This time, I choose to respect her decision and let go of the life she's forgotten.

My boyfriend's assistant, who also came from the same university as him but a lower grade, has an incredibly similar name to mine. While mine is Marissa Parker, hers is Melissa Barker. At the party our colleagues are throwing to celebrate the end of my unmarried life with my boyfriend, Liam Yarrow, Melissa once again mixes up our names. Everyone is cheering and joking around as they unfurl the banner they had prepared, and one person reads the wording out loud. "Congratulations to Liam Yarrow and Melissa Barker! May you two be happy and blissful forever!" In an instant, the originally noisy room falls silent. Melissa's timid voice then rings out. "Sorry, Marissa. I accidentally made a mistake again." Instead of answering, I turn to look at Liam. Liam's brow doesn't even wrinkle in the slightest as he subconsciously assures her, "It's just a minor matter. She won't mind." Following that, he gets up, walks to Melissa, and stops in front of her, placing me opposite him. With this action, his figure completely blocks her from my sight, and like many times before, he shoots me a warning look. "Marissa, it's just a banner. Mel didn't mean to mess it up. At the end of the day, everyone already knows that you and I are the stars tonight, so don't dwell on this, okay?" He calls me by my full first name, while Melissa gets an affectionate nickname. Can his feelings be any more obvious? I slowly release my grip on the balloon I was holding. "Alright, I won't." I will never dwell on anything to do with him again.

Everyone in the circle called me the chatty woman around Wilson Lewis, who had poor hearing and was notoriously aloof. I would stand up for him, take drinks on his behalf, and accompany him to the hospital. When he had to get his hearing aid adjusted, I would crouch beside the table to replace its batteries for him, yet he never so much as looked up at me. One time, I drank on his behalf until I was dead drunk at a wine party, but he only glanced down at me calmly. Another time, I spent the entire morning waiting with him on the day of his follow-up checkup, but he texted his unattainable love, Noelle Surrey, instead. Wilson: [Have you eaten lunch yet?] During our three years of marriage, I became a joke in the eyes of others. On the night of our wedding anniversary, he wanted to make things up for the birthday celebration he owed me. When I was being dragged away through the back alley of a convenience store, I saw him sitting in the Maybach parked at the alley entrance through the half-open car window, unboxing a cake. I screamed until my throat bled, my fingernails digging into the wall. He glanced up at the alleyway entrance, took off his hearing aid, and put it in his pocket. When I got home in the wee hours, he was still helping Noelle with her resume. Seeing my disheveled state, he just frowned and said, "Jaclyn Scott, can you please stop making such a scene every time?" Noelle chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Wilson, is she playing victim again?" I pushed the divorce papers and a USB drive in front of him. "Wilson, I'm done making a scene. This time, it's your turn to listen."

During an avalanche, I risk my life to save my girlfriend, Naomi Sutton. I end up losing a leg and an eye. On the day I'm discharged from the hospital, she tells me, "I've done my part by taking care of you this whole time. There's no way I'll spend the rest of my life with a cripple. You understand why I need to do this, right, Caleb?" I've already resigned myself to a life of constant darkness when Zoey Rivers shows up. She doesn't mind that I'm disabled. She gently heals all of my wounds. Following our decision to get married, I start going through our belongings to prepare for our upcoming move to our new marital home. Unexpectedly, I stumble across Zoey's backup phone in the house. I find a secondary social media account that Zoey has been using to track the moving journey of her sister's battle against a crippling illness. The latest update reads, "I'm about to get married. Once it's official, I'll get him to donate a kidney to my sister at once, and she'll be saved." Posted with the caption is a photo of Zoey with a woman lying on a hospital bed—Naomi. At that very moment, the door opens behind me. "What's the matter, Caleb? Since you're at home, why didn't you answer me when I called for you?"

For Founders' Day, Julian Whitmore said he was finally taking me home to meet his family. I spent three months preparing. Then I waited an hour outside his front door. By the time I made it inside, his mother was already holding the hand of a girl in a fitted red dress. "This is Camille," she announced to the room, beaming. "Julian's fiancée. The wedding's set for Thanksgiving." I looked at Julian. He kept his head down. He didn't deny it. All through dinner, he and Camille Sinclair accepted toast after toast of congratulations, while the butler led me in through the side door and sat me at a table in the corner — without so much as a place setting. Three rounds of drinks in, he texted me: [Wait for me. I'll fix this.] I sent back three words: [Congratulations to you.]

Brandon Hayes had too many enemies, so he asked Hannah Foster to be his public girlfriend until every last one of them was dealt with. "Eleanor, I know this isn't fair to you. I promise we'll get married after I've taken care of all my enemies." I looked at Hannah with concern. "But won't this put her in danger?" Brandon's expression darkened. "I saved her life. She owes me this." The day Brandon proposed to me, I was just about to slip the ring onto my finger when a bullet came flying toward me. Hannah threw herself in front of me. The bullet tore into her abdomen, and blood immediately poured from the wound. The man who had been looking at me with such tenderness shoved me aside without a second glance. He scooped Hannah into his arms and rushed her to the hospital. I looked down at the blood running between my legs. I gritted my teeth and endured the pain as I hailed a cab. "Take me to the hospital."

Five years ago, I was nearly killed in a car accident while saving my mother-in-law. My injuries were so severe that I spent years abroad undergoing treatment and rehabilitation. The moment I landed back home, I ran into my former college roommate, Vanessa Caldwell. She and her designer-clad friends looked me up and down with open disgust. "Gianna Lott?" Vanessa stared at me. "Is that really you?" One of her friends covered her mouth and giggled. "Vanessa, why does your old roommate look like she just got out of cleaning the airport bathrooms?" Vanessa waved a hand, pretending to defend me. "Don't be rude. Then again, Gianna's mother was a housekeeper..." She paused dramatically before giving me a fake, apologetic smile. "Oh my God, Gianna. I'm so sorry. Was I not supposed to mention that?" I had no interest in entertaining them. I turned to leave, but Vanessa stepped directly into my path. "By the way, my son's first birthday party is tomorrow," she said. "We haven't seen each other in years. You absolutely have to come." I rejected, "No, thanks. I'm not interested." Her friend's expression immediately darkened. "Don't be so ungrateful. Do you even know who Vanessa married?" She leaned closer, her voice dripping with superiority. "Her husband is the heir to the most powerful family in Crownmere. Someone like you could live 10 lifetimes and still never get close to a man like him." Another woman tittered meanly. "Just look at her. She probably doesn't even own a proper dress. Gianna, should I donate one of my old ones to you?" Vanessa raised a hand, putting on another performance. "That's enough." Then, she looked at me with exaggerated pity. "Gianna, I never imagined your life would turn out this badly." She sighed. "For old times' sake, I can arrange a catering job for you at the party. You'll earn a little money and get a glimpse of how the upper class lives." Before I could refuse, she shoved an invitation into my hand. I was about to throw it away when the name listed under "Father of the Birthday Boy" caught my eye and my breath hitched. It was my husband's name, Alexander Whitmore.

I am dying alone in a dark and damp mental asylum. At the same time, my parents are putting on a grand art exhibition for Jane Chamberlain, my sister, in a brilliant exhibition hall. Chase Lister, my boyfriend, is standing right next to her, applauding in celebration. It is supposed to be my achievement, as every piece within this exhibition hall is the product of my painstaking labor, but they now belong exclusively to Jane. I spend my whole life competing with Jane, only to end up with nothing. I open my eyes again and decide not to fight for anything anymore. I just want to live well on my own terms and take good care of myself.

Just because Tristan Whitfield wants to know how long I can hold my breath, Celine Harper kicks me straight into the pool. I go pale, screaming for help, but nobody pulls me out until I've already blacked out. Someone nearby whispers, "Don't you think Celine went a little too far?" But she just scoffs, not the least bit worried. "Relax. Gavin's a pushover. Give him a plane ticket to go somewhere fun, and he'll forget all about it." When I come to, I do exactly what she predicts. I get on the flight to Ridgemont and never return. Two weeks later, Celine can't stand it anymore and flies out after me, furious. "You're really holding a grudge over that?"

After my wife’s attempt to start a business failed, we lost everything. So I started working three jobs just to lighten her burden. When I was up on the thirtieth floor of a high-rise cleaning windows, there was a family celebrating a birthday inside. I looked inside enviously but unsuspectingly found my wife pushing out a cake made out of money to the older woman whose birthday was being celebrated. Through the window, I heard some conversation going on inside. “This is such a hard place to reserve, but Miss Pascal rented the whole floor out for her mother-in-law’s birthday!” “The tips she’s giving out tonight must be worth millions!” Suspended in midair, I nearly forgot how to breathe. What no one knew was that Miss Pascal’s real mother-in-law had just died in the hospital not long ago.

Every time my driver, Jason, sent me to the office, he brought his girlfriend along. Since we were all headed in the same direction, I never made a fuss. However, one morning, I opened the car door to see a note taped to my usual seat. [No freeloaders allowed in this car!] I tore the note off and turned to Jason. “What's this supposed to mean?!”

On the night Wynnie Moore is done recovering from childbirth, she suddenly brings up the traumatic nightmare that I never wish to revisit. "Actually, the person who imprisoned and assaulted you five years ago was Margaret Silva." Margaret is Logan Jameson's wife, and Logan is the adopted younger brother she raised. My mind goes blank as I blurt, "What?" Wynnie continues as if she's discussing something insignificant. "Back then, Logan found out he was infertile. His mother-in-law never liked him to begin with. To help him secure his position in the Silva family, I agreed to his proposal that you would provide the sperm. "Meanwhile, Margaret had always harbored feelings for you. So..." It turns out the three of them have worked together to imprison and assault me over the course of a few days until Margaret becomes pregnant. I try hard to suppress the nauseous sensation rising in the back of my throat. My lips tremble as I ask shakily, "Why are you telling me this now?" Wynnie lets out a long sigh, as if a burden she's carried for years has finally been lifted. She says, "I've been keeping this a secret for five years. It's exhausting. Also, I've already made up for the child that I once owed you. They say a man takes on a much softer character after becoming a father. Well, that certainly seems to be the case. "You're not losing your temper like you used to. You've finally become calmer and more agreeable." I force a strained and ugly smile. She has no idea that I haven't mellowed down the slightest. It's just that I have a secret that I've never revealed to her too.

In the eight years since my wife handed our daughter over to her widowed brother-in-law, I went to court eight times. This time, the judge asked me the same question she always did: was I here to sue for custody again? I corrected her. "I'm here to withdraw the suit. I'm giving up custody. I'm agreeing to the divorce." Ten years married to my wife, Vivian Simpson, and eight of those years spent in courtrooms. I'd become the whole city of Northbridge's favorite joke. Now, I'd finally endured enough to let go. From now on, the most spineless man in Northbridge would never have to show his face in front of them again.

On the day of my pre-wedding photoshoot, the photographer compliments me, saying I look just like my sister, Jenna Shaw, when I smile. My fiance, Clifton Cooper, immediately asks Jenna to change into a white wedding dress as well, saying she might as well take a few photos for keepsakes. When selecting the photos, the whole family gathers around Jenna's set of pictures and praises them. My mother, Victoria Winn, says Jenna is naturally suited to wearing a wedding dress. My father, Reginald Shaw, says she looks more radiant and poised than me, the bride-to-be. Clifton stares at the screen for a long time, then points to the one where Jenna glances back over her shoulder. "Jenna looks great in this one. Let's put this one at the wedding welcome area." Only when I ask him where my photos will go does he finally seem to remember my existence. "Since you and Jenna look so much alike, the guests won't be able to tell the difference. Besides, Jenna isn't getting married, so it isn't easy for her to get a chance to wear a wedding dress." A laugh suddenly escapes me. Ever since we were little, it's never been easy for Jenna, so I'm supposed to give in to her. Not only do I have to give her whatever she wants, but I'm not allowed to have anything she doesn't have either. Even my wedding has to be about making her dream come true. I pull the only photo of Clifton and me together from the album. In the photo, I stand beside Clifton, smiling with all my might. But looking at it now, all I feel is that I'm looking at a stranger. It turns out spring is never late. It's just that I've been standing in someone else's shadow, waiting for it. Well, this time, I don't want to wait anymore.

A week before our wedding, my fiance, Michael Gordon, secretly accepts a classified government job. He departs in a hurry, only leaving me with a simple, "Wait for me." Hope and expectation fill me as I hear that. Yet, for the next three years, he spends his monthly visitation day with someone else. Even when my mother falls terribly sick and I'm in desperate need of money; even when I cry heartrendingly just for a chance to meet with him or make a phone call, the only response I receive is the guard's exasperated message. "Mr. Gordon has already used up his visitation day. Please wait for the next month." Dejected, I get ready to leave. However, in the next second, Michael's childhood sweetheart, Liliana Zink, easily gains entry. "Mr. Gordon specifically instructed us to bring you straight to his office. He really does treat you very well. It's been a year since your breakup, yet he still worries about you being in a bad mood and spends his visitation days with you." As I move to rush inside again, the guard hastily stops me. "Don't even think about it. As if Mr. Gordon could possibly have any money. All his allowance goes to Ms. Zink." That night, I can't even afford to get Mom any painkillers. This is all my fault for being so useless. Nevertheless, I don't want to wait any longer. At last, Michael completes the project and returns, but I'm already married to someone else.

To help my younger sister, Emily Lambert, recover from her asthma, I went out of my way to buy a private island known for its pristine air. However, on the very day she arrived, someone kicked her so hard that they broke her ribs, and she called me crying. "Arthur, they're saying this island belongs to someone else! They're going to throw me into the ocean." Through the phone, I heard the island manager's harsh voice. "This island is a gift from Ms. Wynter to her boyfriend! Who do you think you are? You're just a trash picker, and you think you can just show up here?" Suddenly, everything clicked. My wife, Cassie Wynter, had a boy toy on the side, and he was now trying to take over the island meant for Emily's recovery. Well, that score needed to be settled. Cassie and I had been married for two years. In that time, she had transformed from a nobody in a third-rate family to a powerful CEO controlling the luxury goods market. Everyone said she had a gift for business, that she had the Midas touch. However, no one knew the truth: the exclusive royal supplier connections she wielded were resources I had risked my life for in the United Zahara. I dialed the Zaharan Royal Family. "Prince Khalid, it's time you repaid the favor you owe me."

To everyone else, Helen Hart was just Ronin Dudley's ignored, pregnant wife. In reality, she was a world-class interpreter who could dominate any international negotiation. Ronin Dudley thought the $50,000 she owed him would keep her trapped forever. Kelly Choney thought a few social media posts could ruin her. They were both wrong. With one bank card, Helen paid off the debt that had chained her down for years. With one divorce agreement, she ended a five-year marriage. She wanted no money. No excuses. And no love that came too late. When Ronin finally learned the truth, he fell apart. "I got revenge for you!" Helen smiled. "You're the one I hate most." Only after she stepped into the spotlight, shining brighter than ever, did he realize what he'd destroyed with his own hands. Not just his wife. His only shot at redemption.

My wife's lover accuses my daughter of dirtying his suit and calls her an ill-mannered brat. That very night, right in front of me, my wife chops off my daughter's hands as an apology to him. Consumed with rage, I grab that man's hair and slam his head against the wall until he's bleeding. Everyone thinks my wife, Celine Lynch, will have me arrested. Instead, she uses our daughter's life to force me into getting a divorce and leaving with nothing. "You useless trash, you can't even raise your own child right. Get out. Henry Judd and I had better not see you again," she says. After that, I take my daughter's ashes and leave for a faraway place. I vanish from their world and build up everything from scratch. Three years later, after establishing my own company, I meet Henry again at an industry summit. He stands there, wearing an expensive suit. With a wine glass in hand, he looks down at me and says, "Well, if it isn't Justin Yarrow, the poor loser who got kicked out? What, have you come here to freeload?" I laugh coldly. Then I grab him and slam him onto the table edge. My voice is icy as I say, "Looks like you forgot what it felt like to have your head split open. No matter. I'll remind you once more."

On Valentine's Day, Mason Hamilton turned our wedding into a spectacle. He bought up every major screen in the city and put my name on all of them. I cried when I saw it. I turned down a guaranteed spot in a top graduate program overseas without a second thought. That was before the address verification today. The staff member couldn't hide the sympathy in her eyes. "According to our system, the registered owner of this unit is Stella Wallace. She's also listed as Mr. Hamilton's legal wife. You're recorded here as a temporary occupant." I pushed open the door to Mason's office and found him bent over Stella's hand, pressing a kiss to her ring finger. When I confronted him, he frowned, impatience already showing on his face. "Stella didn't have parents growing up, so she's always felt insecure. It's just a property title and a marriage certificate. I gave her the title to make her feel better. You had the wedding every woman wanted. I made sure the whole world knew you were my wife. What more do you want?" Stella rested against him, her smile light and easy. "Come on, Paige. Don't be mad. I only care about the title. He still goes home to you every night." I looked down at the ring on my finger. It felt wrong all of a sudden, like it didn't belong there. I took it off and placed it on his desk. Then I left, sending my dad a message as I walked out. [I'm coming home.]