Novel & Cerita Can I Unreject My Rejection

Rowan Nightshade slapped me in front of his friends, his guards, and the girl he had been protecting for months. The room went dead silent. Then someone whispered, “She deserved it.” For nine years, I had loved Rowan like he was my fate. I endured his coldness, his broken promises, and every time he left me standing alone because another girl needed him more. I kept telling myself it would get better. Rowan was my promised mate. Sooner or later, he would choose me first. But when his palm landed across my face, something inside me finally broke. Rowan thought I would cry, apologize, and forgive him like I always did. Instead, I walked out of the hall, deleted every way to contact him, and told both our packs the promised-mate agreement was over before sunrise. No one believed I would really leave. Until Rowan came to my dorm that night, his eyes red and his voice shaking. “Why, Serena? Just because of one slap?” I looked at the boy I had loved since childhood. Then I smiled. “Yes,” I said. “Because of that slap.”

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

To everyone else, I'm the wife of Stefano Pace, the man who runs this city's underworld. To others, I am living the kind of luxury every woman in town envies. But what no one knows is that in three days, I'm leaving my husband for good. It started when I took Stefano's car to wash and spotted a black stocking that wasn't mine wedged in the passenger seat cushions. It was balled up and still reeked of sickly sweet perfume. The sight of it was like a knife to the heart. I knew that perfume. It is Isla Torelli's. She's Stefano's underboss, the only woman besides me who's ever taken the passenger seat. My hand trembled as I gripped the stocking, but I kept my cool. I thought back to our wedding seven years ago, when Stefano stood in front of the whole family and vowed, "If I ever betray you, then betray me a hundredfold!" He probably did not think those words would come true.

Just as my wealthy boyfriend and I were talking about getting married, his mother dismissed me as an unrefined girl and demanded I attend a finishing school to learn how to be a proper wife. Looking at Zach’s pleading gaze, I gave in. I endured relentless psychological and physical torment for three months. However, on the day I was discharged, I overheard a phone call between Zach and his friend. “Zach, if you don’t want to marry Cathy, why didn’t you just tell her? Why did you have to send her to that hellhole to suffer? That finishing school your family runs is a freaking torture chamber. Constant beatings, electric shocks, forced kneeling for hours… No one comes out of there the same.” “You don’t get it. Jen is about to get engaged, and I can’t risk Cathy ruining it. As long as Jen is happy, I don’t care who I marry. Cathy grew up poor, so she can endure a little hardship. Three months of hardship for a lifetime of Stein money is a fair trade.” My vision blurred with tears when I heard those cruel words from his mouth. I thought. “Zach, since you loved Jenna so much, why did you have to toy with my feelings?”

My boyfriend thought I was too fat at 121 pounds. I signed up for a gym and started working out like crazy, but the more I tried to lose weight, the more I gained. Meanwhile, my best friend, Chloe Woods, was doing late-night eating streams every single day, stuffing herself with steaks, seafood, and greasy takeout. Not only did she not gain weight, she dropped from 154 pounds to 143. When my boyfriend started tearing into me even worse than before, I suddenly heard the tabby cat’s voice in my head. “You idiot. Chloe’s got you trapped in a weight-swap system. “No matter how hard you try to lose weight, she’s the one getting thinner. Every pound you lose is a pound she drops. She’s trying to ruin you.” I froze and turned to look at my best friend, Chloe. She was staring at my boyfriend without even trying to hide it, her eyes full of admiration. Then the tabby’s voice exploded in my ears again. “Chloe is obsessed with that trashy loser. Once she gets skinny, the two of them will hook up. Then they'll team up to get you killed and spend your settlement money living a happy life.” The moment I learned the truth, I smiled. Since my so-called best friend wanted to be skinny that badly, if I made her whole body weigh less than 50 pounds, she’d probably be very grateful to me, right?

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

My sister Iris almost died from anemia. The day she was hospitalized, my whole family started blaming me. I'd been frail since birth, so Mom and Dad had always poured all their attention into me. The new school supplies were mine, the new clothes were mine, and even on the birthdays we shared, the cream and chocolate part of the cake always went to me first. I used to hear Iris crying at night. But whenever I tried to comfort her, she just shoved me away. On my twelfth birthday, I came home from school with a perfect score on my test, beaming as I pushed the door open. Mom and Dad's eyes were red, and they looked at me as if I'd done something terrible. “Why can't you ever be nicer to Iris? We give you everything, and you should be thinking about her too.” “The doctor said her health problems are all because of how she feels.” “You're so spoiled, so selfish.” I lowered my head. They didn't know that I was frail because I'd made a deal to take Iris's death for her. Tomorrow, I was going to be erased.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Simon Heath, I finally walk away from him after his 32nd mistress shows up at my door. I join a classified government program and disappear from his world. Now he's falling apart and calling me non-stop. "Lily, I was wrong. Please come back." In the past, a single word of apology from him would have been enough to make me stay. But not this time. This time, he's bound to be disappointed.

I suffered critical injuries that left me in a persistent vegetative state when I tried to rescue my wife, Regina Livingston, from her abductors. Regina spares no expense, spending millions of dollars to bring in the best medical experts in the country to treat me. She watches over me every single night, never weary of caring for me. Four years into my coma, I overhear a conversation between Richard Sutherland—a man I don't know—and Regina. "You've done all you can, Regina," he says. "You don't owe him anything anymore." Regina remains silent. Then, a young boy, Franklin Sutherland, suddenly asks, "Mommy, why do you always visit this man? Who is he?" I'm instantly shocked. Regina and I don't have a child together. I'm completely bewildered, and just as I try to figure it out, I suddenly wake up from my coma.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.