Cerita Pendek & Novel Tragic Love Superpowers

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

On the day of my wedding, my fiance suddenly announced that he had already registered his marriage with my sister. The system declared my mission a failure and sentenced me to be erased in a car crash. Just as despair closed in, Wayne Kinsey threw himself in front of me to save my life—and lost the use of his legs because of it. Later, I was given another chance to choose a new target, and I accepted his proposal. But five years into our marriage, I overheard a conversation between him and a friend. "Wayne, your crush already has a husband and children. Your legs are healed too. Aren't you going to come clean with Arden?" "No. Arden will always be a risk. Only if she keeps feeling guilty will she stay away and let Naomi have her happiness." As his familiar but cold voice echoed in my ears, my tears fell like beads of a broken string, and that was when I finally realized the so-called salvation Wayne had given me had been nothing but a lie through and through. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on to this sham of a marriage.

The apocalypse has arrived. I carry multiple special abilities and am humanity's hope. However, my wife tears those powers out of me for the sake of her true love. I'm in unbearable pain. I beg her to stop, telling her I'll die. But she doesn't care at all. "Why are you so selfish? You have so many abilities and won't even give one to Ed. Stop being so dramatic. Why do you get to be the hero while my Ed stays an ordinary person?" What she doesn't know is that each special ability is like a heart—take it away, and the person dies.

I had always been a little dizzy by nature. My head was often muddled. Three years ago, in that same haze, I picked up a drunk woman and brought her home. She woke up and stared at me for a while before suddenly saying, “Let’s get married.” I did not think much about it. I just nodded and thus became the rich husband of a powerful family. They gave me a credit card that I could use however I liked, and I could live in a luxury house without any limits. We had a son, but alas, he was kidnapped. It took me two years, but I managed to find him again. I was about to tell my wife when she handed me a divorce agreement. “I’m bankrupt. This is my last sum of money. Take it and leave.” At that moment, a few chat messages suddenly appeared in front of me. [Wow! The female lead’s crush, the male lead, has returned to the country!] [She is probably pretending to be bankrupt. She wants to get rid of the male supporting character to go back to the male lead!] [She got drunk back then because the male lead left. The male supporting character was just a stand-in!] What? So I was a replacement? I nodded slowly. “Oh. Then let’s get a divorce.” The light in her eyes went out at once. I looked at her and felt that I had forgotten to say something. Whatever. I would say it when I remembered.

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding."

I, Darlene Cooley, have an ability. Whenever I touch an object, I can see the scenes it has experienced over the past day. I've been married for five years. Every time I help my husband, Bernard Hoffman, tidy up his suits or organize his briefcase, what I see are conference rooms, whiteboards, and workstations. Once in a while, I appear in those scenes. He'll be secretly reading my messages under his desk, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously. Bernard is so gentle that it feels almost unreal. In winter, he places my slippers by the heater to warm them up. No matter how busy his business trips are, he video calls me right on time. When I casually mention I feel like eating caramel popcorn, he drives halfway across the city to stand in line for it. My friends all say I'm blessed, and I feel the same way. That is, until yesterday, when he comes back from a trip. I go to help him unpack, and the moment I touch that gray cashmere sweater, a flood of images rushes in. Bernard is sitting across from a short-haired woman. Her eyes are bright, and a shallow dimple appears when she smiles. He listens to her speak, earnest and focused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. A faint smile lingers at the corner of his mouth. It's been a long time since he has listened to me speak like that. The vision ends. I crouch in front of the suitcase, my hand still resting on the cashmere sweater, unable to snap out of it for a long while. Then, I stand up and walk over to the cabinet, where I pull out my own suitcase.

An ambulance rushed in during my night shift, carrying a pregnant woman in critical condition due to severe bleeding. I was about to head into the operating room when I suddenly saw a stream of comments appearing in front of me. "Don't go in there! That pregnant woman is your wife. She had sex with her side dude in the wilderness, and that's what caused the bleeding!" "Your wife is even planning to fake her death and run away with him. She's also setting you up for medical malpractice so you'll end up in prison!" "That baby isn't even yours. And your in-laws are already on their way with the police to arrest you!" After reading those comments, my expression turned dark. At that same moment, I heard the nurse urgently calling me to hurry.

My long-lost older sister, Natalia, was pregnant when she was brought home. The moment my fiance, Duncan, saw her, he let go of my hand and strode to her side. He then confessed, “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Jacklin. The baby in Lia’s belly is mine. I will call off the wedding with Felicity.” I stood frozen in place. Then, a barrage of words floated before my eyes. Apparently, Duncan was the male lead, I was the villainess, and Natalia was still my sister. [Duncan returned to the past, didn’t he? He and Natalia were secretly seeing each other back then, but they never came clean because they didn’t want to hurt Felicity’s feelings. So, he got forced into marrying Felicity instead.] [After they got married, Felicity found out about their affair. She forced her parents to send Natalia overseas. Then, at the airport, she had a baggage cart crash into Natalia. The impact caused uterine rupture and severe hemorrhaging, and she died.] [Duncan despises Felicity. To get revenge for Natalia, he killed Felicity by letting her bleed out.] I bled out? I shot a glance at the man I had loved since childhood.

When I found out about Kenneth Hale, I didn’t argue with Claire O’Neill. I simply handed her the divorce papers. Her eyes turned red as she sat there. After struggling with the decision for a moment, she tore them up. "Give me ten days. I’ll send Kenneth far away, and he’ll never appear in our lives again." So over the next ten days, Claire went whitewater rafting with him, climbed snow-covered mountains, bungee jumped, and went skydiving. They did every thrilling thing they could think of. They watched the sunrise together by the ocean and went to Silver Pines Retreat to meditate, filling those days with every romantic experience imaginable. Then, on the ninth night, after I had packed all my belongings, I accidentally answered a video call from myself ten years in the past. "You really are me ten years from now! Then Claire and I must already be married with kids, right?" Pain flickered in my eyes. I walked straight onto the balcony and pointed the camera down at Claire and Kenneth, who were holding each other tightly, unable to let go. "This is what happens." Finley Morton looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. "That’s impossible…" My voice was exhausted, as though every last bit of strength had been drained from me. "Finley, please. Don’t marry her."

At one in the morning, I stumbled upon a viral forum thread. The question was simple: If you had to choose between love and your future, which would you pick? Thousands of replies clashed furiously in the comments. Some argued that those who chose their career always ended up full of regret. Others countered that being a hopeless romantic was a one-way ticket to total ruin. I rolled over in bed and glanced at Ethan, who was fast asleep beside me. His brow was slightly furrowed, and his fingers tightly gripped the edge of my shirt. Even in his sleep, he seemed terrified that I might slip away. Without a second thought, I fired off a string of comments: “Choose love, absolutely. We’ve been together for five years.” “He gave up his entire family legacy and inheritance just to be with me.” “Every single evening after work, he goes two miles out of his way just to pick up my favorite coffee.” “We might have nothing to our names, but together, we have everything.” Satisfied, I locked my phone and drifted off to sleep. But when I woke up the next morning, a few new notifications caught my eye. Someone had replied to my comments. The avatar and the username were identical to mine. The only difference was the timestamp: Five years from today. “Choose your future! You have to choose your future!” “His ‘sacrificed legacy’ was nothing but a sob story to manipulate you—he took over his family’s multimillion-dollar enterprise a long time ago!” “He stays up all night waiting in lines just to buy Seraphina limited-edition designer collaborations, all while telling you that your coffee craving is cheap and wasteful!” “Even the daughter you gave birth to, Lily, will be forced to call that other woman ‘Mom’!”

One afternoon, I received a text from seven years in the future. The sender was me, Delilah Hanson. I assumed it was some new kind of scam, so I didn't even bother reading the message before firing off an angry reply. [Drop dead, scammer!] The sender responded with a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills. [I'm not a scammer, but I really am about to die. Break up with Caleb. Today is the first day he cheats on you. His first love just came back from overseas. Her name is Savannah Gordon.] I froze. The whole thing was so ridiculous that I almost laughed. I was Caleb Wheeler's first love! Right then, the door opened behind me. Caleb walked in with a woman beside him, smiling as he introduced us. "Delilah, there's someone I want you to meet. This is Savannah, my foster sister. She just got back today."

I was in the middle of saving a heart attack patient's life, so I didn't drop everything to save my foster sister's dog. The next moment, I got a message from my fiancé, Felix Callier. Felix: [Because you let it die and did nothing, Tiffany's dog ended up in the animal hospital!] Felix: [Let's push back the wedding. Consider it your punishment.] This was the ninth time Felix had postponed our wedding because of one of Tiffany Kamp's tantrums. This time, I didn't want to play along anymore. Then the comment feed drifted across my vision. [Go find him on the rooftop, girl! He's actually in love with you. He already saw through the impostor's whole act.] [He's postponing the wedding to surprise you. He's secretly planning the wedding of the century for you!] My heart ached with guilt, and I ran straight for the rooftop to find him. The moment I reached the door, I heard Tiffany's teasing laugh. "Do you really think Roxy will come crawling back to beg forgiveness once she sees those words?" Felix's tone turned playful. "Of course. That's the AR technology my company just developed. Besides, she loves me so much that even a fake message won't make her suspicious. "This was her fault to begin with. She deserves a lesson." I froze where I stood. So even the comments that claimed to love me were just another game he was playing to humiliate me. I swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat and turned to leave. Felix had no idea. The moment his fake comment feed vanished from my sight, the real one appeared.

Everyone knows that campus heartthrob Kelvin Underwood never dates anyone for more than three months. Yet, he's been with me for nearly nine months. People call me the love of his life. That is until a viral thread hits the campus forums. It claims that his first love, Tamara Wesson, is back, and he'll be dumping me any day now. I find it hilarious and want to show it to him. But instead of laughing, he pretends to be asleep, rolling over and subtly putting as much distance between us as possible. I assume he's sulking because I added another guy on social media. Like always, I throw myself onto him and let my hands roam all over his body, teasing him playfully. As I watch him close his eyes tightly and purse his lips in pure restraint, my pulse starts to race. I lean in to kiss him. Suddenly, floating comments flash into view. [The male lead is practically dying of disgust, and this second female lead is still touching him so shamelessly? No wonder she ends up getting bullied to death.] [Stephanie doesn't actually think Kelvin sees her as his true love, does she? The only reason he broke his three-month rule and stayed with her for nine months is that he found out Tamara's lucky number is nine, and so he's just doing it to get under her skin.] [Exactly! The moment our precious Tamara heard that he's been dating someone for that long, she immediately panicked and came back to win him over. Our sweet endgame couple is about to make their grand entrance!]

I was Windsor’s most untouchable heiress. The chairman of the university board was my grandfather. The student council president was my fiancé. The basketball team captain and the top student in our major were my childhood friends. Everyone said that if I wanted something at Windsor, I could have it. After taking a year off from college because of illness, I returned to campus. The moment I stepped through the gates, lines of comments suddenly appeared in front of me. [The spoiled heiress is back! She still doesn't know that all three male leads have fallen for the new transfer student.] [Jessica may be poor, but she's stubborn and kind. Watching her refuse financial help and insist on working part-time is heartbreaking.] [Natalie bullies Jessica because of her family's wealth. In the end, the male leads will all hate her. Even her fiancé will break off their engagement in front of everyone.] [I love watching spoiled rich girls lose everything!] When the three young men who once had eyes only for me insulted me at the opening ceremony just to defend a poor student, I simply smiled. Then I decided to stay away from them from that day forward. After all, a true heiress never needs to lose her mind over a man just to prove her worth.

When I was ten years old, I suddenly gained the ability to see red threads connecting people’s heads. Only those who had actually slept together would be bound by this unavoidable red line. Over the years, two extra red threads popped up over my father’s head, driving my mother to threaten to file for divorce again and again. Because of this, loyalty became the single most important thing I looked for in a partner. In the end, I chose Jasper—a modest, reserved man whose head was completely clean. On the night before our wedding, my bridesmaids hosted a bachelorette party. We played a game where whoever lost had to hand over their phone for the rest of us to snoop through. When it was my maid of honor Jean’s turn, she clutched her phone tightly, her face flushing red as she bashfully giggled. “Don’t look at mine! He wore me out so late last night. Those photos are definitely not fit for public viewing.” Everyone teased her for keeping her relationship so secretive, since no one had ever met her boyfriend. I was just about to step in and smooth things over when I suddenly saw a bright red thread stretch straight out from the top of her head. It wove right through the crowd and anchored itself directly onto my fiancé, Jasper. Yet, when he dropped me off at home last night, his head had been entirely clean. In fact, just half an hour ago, he had sent me a text. [Aria, I’ve saved myself for you for twenty-five years. On our wedding night tomorrow, I can finally have you. I love you!] I looked over at Jasper standing outside the door, staring at me with deep affection, and then back at Jean, whose face was glowing with passion. I raised my glass and clinked it gently against hers. “Jean, is your boyfriend’s last name Cook?”