Romans & histoires Cool Reading

When our marriage contract expired, I found out I was pregnant. Charlie Newman’s voice was icy. "If it’s a boy, we’re even." I asked quietly, "And if it’s a girl?" He paused–then said coldly, "Then we keep trying until you give me a son." I sighed. Three years of marriage couldn’t compete with the need for an heir. However, one night, when I went downstairs for water, I saw him kneeling in the attic, eyes devout, voice trembling. "Merciful God, please grant me a daughter. If you hear my prayer and make my wish come true, I will give generously to your church and serve you faithfully all my life."

I always had a unique kind of mind-reading ability—I could hear the thoughts of people who didn't truly love me. On the night before my wedding, I suddenly heard my fiance's thoughts. 'If she shows up unexpectedly to disrupt the wedding tomorrow, will wearing leather shoes make it harder to escape?' I didn't say a word. The next day, without a second thought, I boarded a plane and left Chilia. In the end, that wedding, regarding a runaway bride and groom who never showed up, became the city's most infamous joke.

My husband, Don Cassian, just survived an assassination attempt. He limped in, bleeding, and ordered me to stitch him up. But when I reached into his blood-soaked suit, my fingers brushed against something soft. Black lace panties. Not mine. My hand flew to my still-flat stomach. For our child. How could he do this to us? Ice flooded my veins. “We’re done, Cassian.” His gaze was heavy, exhausted. He gave a single, sharp nod. “Fine. I’ll have my lawyer draft the papers.” But then, a frantic little voice—one that wasn't mine—screamed from deep within my womb. [Mom, don’t leave him! Dad didn’t cheat! The family isn’t going to fall. It’s a setup!] [Oriana Gallo planned all of this! She wants your place! She put those panties in his pocket herself!] [If you leave, her men will grab you. They’ll take you to an abandoned warehouse and dump your body in Lake Michigan. Then she’ll play the grieving friend, comfort Dad, and become the new Mrs. Marino!] [Mom, I came back to stop this! Please, don’t fall for it again!] I snapped back to the present. Spinning around, I launched myself into Cassian's arms, my body wracked with sobs. “I was just trying to scare you! How could you agree so easily? Are you that tired of me?” I jabbed a finger at his chest, tears streaming down my face.

In my previous life, my sister, Clarissa Smith, and I were adopted at the same time. She chose the Newmans, a prestigious family of scientists, leaving me with an impoverished divorcee. But later on, the Newmans kicked her out, and her reputation was completely ruined. Meanwhile, I'd married rich and had tens of millions of dollars from the government's relocation compensation package. Clarissa couldn't accept how differently our lives turned out, so she stabbed me to death. When my eyes open once more, I find myself alive again. I've gone back in time to the day Clarissa and I were adopted. To my surprise, I can hear her thoughts. [This time, I'm going to be the one who gets rich overnight!] As it turns out, she has been reborn as well. Well, this time around, she can be the one who gets to endure the torment instead.

Nolan Shaw is the big shot on campus that everyone is intimidated by. He's also the guy I've been in love with for a while now. Out of nowhere, a new admirer of his pops out. She bears a striking resemblance to me. When I bring him his water, she beats me to it. When I write him a love letter, she tears it up. Finally, I muster up the courage to be honest with Nolan about my feelings—only for her to rush over and kick over the candles I prepared for the confession. That's when I finally lose my patience. "Just what on earth are you doing?" She ignores me and grabs Nolan's arm before saying, "I'll be frank with you. I'm actually here on a mission. You and Nolan will end up in a bitter marriage, hurting each other. So the system wants me to stop you two from being together." I don't believe a word she says, thinking that she's just lying to separate us. But at the very next second, I hear her thoughts. [Just what on earth did this scumbag do to make the 22-year-old Teresa fall so hopelessly in love with him? I bet she'll be heartbroken if she finds out that in the future, he'll find her boring and end up keeping 18 mistresses on the side. And after the divorce, he'll even make it hard for her to earn a living. She ends up dying of exhaustion, too!]

When I got pregnant, I was about to inform my parents about the good news. Suddenly, the baby in my belly cried for help. “Mom, please don’t! Grandpa and Grandma favor boys over girls. If they know that I’m a girl, they will definitely poison you to abort me!” I turned off my phone with doubts, and I was worried that the news of my pregnancy would be leaked. But a fire broke out at my house, and I missed 99 calls from my parents. I was grieved and heartbroken, and my husband went through the darkest time with me. When I was getting back on my feet, the baby’s voice echoed again. “Mom, you’re so pitiful. Dad is dating his mistress in the company, and all he feels for you is just guiltiness.” I instantly felt flustered. Without thinking more, I just rushed inside my husband’s company to catch the cheaters. Unexpectedly, I just blew up a company contract worth over a hundred million. My husband was very disappointed in me. He took a divorce paper and forced me to sign. I desperately tried to keep him, but I heard the baby’s voice again. “Dad hates women who wouldn’t let go. Mom, if you let go of him in time and leave with nothing, Dad will come and cry to beg you to go back some time later!” In the end, I chose to listen to my baby. But I was broke and homeless, and I just slept on the streets at night. My husband, Liam Grant, immediately married a girl who looked like me. At their wedding, he blamed me for leaving him so heartlessly. I cried and wanted to go back to Liam, but a truck that ran a red light ran over me and crushed me into nothing. In the end, I died with my eyes open. Before I died, I vaguely heard the baby’s prideful laugh. When I opened my eyes again, I went back to the day when I found out my pregnancy.

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

The entire ward could hear the thoughts of the beautiful intern nurse, Sonya Row. When a patient kept vomiting nonstop, and I suggested increasing the pain medication, she stood nearby, sighing. [What should I do? Should I tell the family this painkiller can be addictive and really bad for the body? If they just wait a few more minutes, he'll recover on his own. There's no need to spend money at all.] The room fell silent in an instant. Everyone's gaze shifted toward me, and the family quietly refused my treatment plan. After that, I became the joke of the entire department. Every patient specifically asked not to be assigned to me. Later, while comforting a terminal stomach cancer patient, I followed her family's wishes and lied, saying it was just gastritis. Sonya complained about it in her thoughts. [The patient's practically dying already, but she's still saying she can be cured. It's obviously just to trick this old woman into draining her life savings on treatment.] That night, the old lady jumped off the building so she wouldn't burden her family. Her family thought I had revealed the truth and driven her to her death. They reported me directly to the hospital director, and I was stripped of my position as department head. Then, on a holiday weekend, the hospital admitted a pregnant woman with a suspected amniotic fluid embolism. To save her life, I had no choice but to remove her uterus. At that moment, Sonya's thoughts rang out again. [She doesn't have an amniotic fluid embolism at all. She was on her phone during surgery, which caused this. Now look what happened. This baby's a girl. This family wanted a son, and now they'll never get one.] The family attacked me on the spot, recorded it, and posted the video online to harass me. The desperate husband, obsessed with having a son, stabbed me to death to vent his rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Sonya first revealed her thoughts. This time, I could hear her thoughts, too.

My wife was gone for 6 months on a business trip. The day she returned, however, she was not alone. Hand in hand, my wife showed up with her lover—my client. This was not even the worst part—she was also 3 months' pregnant. My client, in all his beer-bellied arrogance, hurled the contract at my feet, smirking. "Mr. Carter, your wife has gone to so much trouble for this partnership. Truth be told, I would never, not even in a million years, have agreed to partner with you if it wasn't for her!" My wife caressed her pregnant belly and said smugly, "I was the one who successfully got Mr. Lewis' business! I'll let you have it, though, as long as you agree to get a divorce!" I tore the contract into shreds and roared, "You want a divorce? Fine! I'll give it to you, but I'll never sign this!"

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.