Cerita Pendek Tragic Love & Novel Substitute Marriage

At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore. His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot. "Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her." The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy. Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake. Days later, he finally remembers I exist. "As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport." I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer. I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.

Due to an accident, my wife and I lost our lives in a massive fire. When we open our eyes again, we find ourselves back on the day we registered our marriage. In our last life, everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Little did they know that my wife, Queenie Lloyd, refused to consummate our marriage. Right before my death, I found out that I was nothing but a replacement for her first love. Queenie had intended to remain chaste for him for the rest of her life. After being reborn, neither of us speaks of the past. By an unspoken agreement, we get a divorce that very day and go on to live separate lives. Eight years later, she attends an industry summit holding her childhood sweetheart's arm. She's now a rising star in the business world. I am dressed in plain clothes. When she notices me, she walks over with a champagne glass in hand. "Mr. Lawrence! Even if you still have feelings for me, you didn't have to disguise yourself as a waiter just to approach me. Are you still trying to convince me to get back together with you?" she sneers. I ignore her and smile as I wave at someone nearby. My son runs over to me and tugs on the corner of my shirt. "Mommy said she's tired, Daddy. She wants to know when you're coming to pick us up," he tells me. Upon hearing this, Queenie's face stiffens immediately, and she almost drops her wine glass.

There are two dogs who will forever revolve around Leonardo Zeller. The first one is his pet dog. The second one is me, his devoted lapdog. But I've successfully risen to the ranks as his fiancee. On the day before our wedding, Leonardo gets into an accident from car racing for the sake of his first love, Renee White. I rush over to the hospital immediately, but I don't see the scar that's supposed to adorn his chest. My complexion goes insanely pale out of panic. "Where did the scar from his heart surgery go?" "Hey! Don't you dare jinx my son! Since when did he go through such a cursed surgery?" Suddenly, I realize that I've gotten the wrong person this whole time for three years. On the day Leonardo gets discharged, he tells me that he regrets proposing to me and that he wants to call off the wedding just to be with Renee. Everyone wants to see me break down and humiliate myself by showing my hysterical side. But I merely reply, "Okay." What they don't know is that I've never loved Leonardo before. After all, the man I love is already dead a few years ago.

I married Dario Vellari in place of the true Salvatore heiress. Dario was the only heir of the Vellari Famiglia, the one with the severe PTSD. Five years of marriage. He never slept with me. Then Bianca came home from Boston, the real heiress, and everything changed. In front of her, Dario reined in his temper. The rooms he had never let me enter, the things he had never let me touch - Bianca walked through them as if they were her own. I thought, then, that I was finished caring for Dario. But after I left, he scoured every corner of the northern hemisphere looking for me. Said if the bride wasn’t me, he would never marry at all.

All the paparazzi in Glorisia knows that Wanda Foster would rather sleep with an escort from a nightclub than with me, her legally-wedded husband. The daily question they ask is, "When will Mr. Gulliver give his precious first time away?" When faced with the paparazzi's cameras, Wanda turns to look at me arrogantly. "We can just lead different romantic lives on our own. If you don't like how I act, feel free to sleep with someone else too." After that, Wanda turns to leave. That night, the spicy photos of her and her latest beau go viral on the news once again. Just when everyone thinks I will spend yet another sleepless night agonizing over the news, I contact some paparazzi and place a reservation on a spot for sensational news. Then, I strip down and mess up the bedsheets before taking a nude photo of myself from another person's POV. After that, I use an unknown number to text Wanda. "Oh my, James is seriously amazing in bed! Let me know when you're going to divorce him!"

I brought Nolan Pierce home for dinner on holiday. Halfway through the meal, my sister suddenly suggested that Nolan and I adopt her son. Before I could refuse, Nolan gave a quiet hum of agreement. "Okay." He agreed, just like that. It caught me off guard because he had just told me he never wanted children just three days ago. It didn't matter how I begged and pleaded, as he still forced me to terminate my pregnancy. Now, he looked at my nephew and said, "He's my child. Of course, I should take responsibility." I stared at him, frozen in disbelief. I wondered how my nephew, Kayden, could possibly be Nolan's child. My sister had gotten pregnant by her broke ex-boyfriend and had run away before giving birth. When they saw the shock on my face, Nolan and my sister laughed at the same time. It was as if they were in on their own private joke, and perhaps they were. My sister shot me a scornful look. "How else do you think he could stand being with you? You were my replacement from the very beginning." Nolan wrapped an arm around my shoulders and spoke gently, as though he were comforting me. "Kayden is still related to you by blood, babe. Try to look on the bright side. You won't have to go through childbirth now." I felt my heart freeze right then and there. I had always known that Nolan had never forgotten about his first love. Yet, how could that same person be my sister? The same sister who bullied me since childhood and almost got me killed? My voice shook so badly I could barely force the words out. "Nolan, I want a divorce."

Five years after having a son with a feared mob boss, she wept until her eyes turned red by my hospital bed. Taking advantage of her business trip, I went to see my personal doctor to beg him to keep my terminal illness a secret. Instead, I overheard a conversation outside the door between her, our son, and her right-hand man: "You don't get it. He's just like Oscar when he was younger. Being with him feels like falling in love with Oscar all over again." "Yeah! He's way gentler than Dad. I like Daddy Theo way better!" It turned out that her "business trip" was straight into my personal doctor's bed. If that's the life she wants, she can keep it. I don't want this mother and son anymore.

The day I catch my fiancée, Autumn Freeman, in bed with another man, the guy on top of her deliberately slashes his own face. Autumn throws herself in front of him, refusing to budge. Even as I fall apart right there, she refuses to let me get a clear look at his face. She turns to me, her voice breaking as she pleads through her tears. "This is all my fault. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I only ask that you leave him alone, Clark Ballard." After that day, Autumn gives up her privacy. She hands me her phone every day and installs hidden cameras in her car herself. Even when patients text her, I grill her about it. She accepts everything without complaint, doing whatever it takes just to win me back. But when I go to pick up my suit three days before our wedding, the clerk gives me a puzzled look. "Mr. Ballard, you already picked up your suit this morning. I just came across a video of your wedding online." In the video she pulls up, Autumn's close friends, who were calling me Autumn's husband just yesterday, are handing rings to the newlyweds. Our mutual friends are standing right there, too, and Autumn looks absolutely radiant with happiness. Blushing, she gazes at the groom and softly calls out to him. "Kev." Hearing the groom's name, along with seeing a face that looks exactly like mine, leaves me rooted to the spot.