Good Luck Charlie Gabe Girlfriend Novels & Stories

My husband, James Lincoln, disappeared in an accident, and my in-laws wasted no time filing to have him legally declared deceased. At the funeral, a woman, Xena Xander, suddenly showed up with a young boy, both crying hysterically. The boy, Charlie Lincoln, screamed at the top of his lungs, calling my husband “Daddy.” My ten-year-old daughter, Mia Lincoln, charged at him, shouting, “Shut up! That’s my dad!” Pretending to break it up, my in-laws instead shoved Mia to the ground. She collapsed and passed out on the spot. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself for not giving us a grandson! This family can’t die out without an heir!” Xena smirked at me with blatant provocation. Behind her, Charlie spat in my direction and sneered, “You’re just a worthless tramp nobody cares about.” I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I laughed. “If you want the status and the inheritance so badly, you can have them. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Two weeks later, Xena showed up at my doorstep, covered in blood, banging on the door and screaming. And then, I got a phone call that felt like a nightmare come to life. But I couldn’t have cared less. By then, I was already enjoying a peaceful vacation overseas.

Charlie Wayne’s life is perfect. Or it was. As a VP who commands boardrooms and a playboy who elegantly ends every date at his door by 3 AM, Charlie’s world is built on control. But lately, his system has a glitch. A streak of bizarre, comically bad luck—flat tires at dawn, mysterious fire alarms, untimely food poisoning—keeps derailing his plans. His flawless exit strategy is in shambles. Carly Dorrington’s life is a lie. But a necessary one. After a blowout fight with her father over their family companies’ merger, Carly needs a place to stay. Where better than with her childhood best friend, Charlie? It’s just temporary. Just two best friends sharing a space. It has nothing to do with the two decades she’s spent loving him from the sidelines, or the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, proximity will make the world’s most oblivious man finally see her. Now, under his roof, the "coincidences" multiply. Charlie’s chaotic love life grinds to a halt just as Carly’s presence becomes a permanent, comforting fixture. His sacred rules don’t seem to apply to her. His peaceful solitude feels warmer with her in it. As the lines of their friendship blur, Charlie is left to wonder: Is Carly the calm in the center of his storm… or is she the one who’s been stirring it up all along? Note: This is a slow-burn, dual-POV story about best friends, blurred lines, and the long game. If you find yourself wondering"where is this going?" in the early chapters... keep reading. Everything becomes clear in Chapter 4. The foundation is being laid for a reason. Thank you for trusting the process.

In the ninth year after I married Charlie Lockwood, he brings his first love, Cecilia Moore, back home. She is gentle, beautiful, and understanding. Everyone treasures her like she is some precious gem. Right under my nose, Charlie begins to develop feelings for her. The household gradually comes under her control. Even my two children, whom I cherish dearly, would rather have Cecilia as their mother. Just when I am completely disheartened, I discover my true identity. With how things are in the Lockwood household now, there is no longer anything here that is worth staying back for. Without hesitation, I file for divorce and return home to take over my family business.

My wife, Charlene Weber, has taken me to the Scumbag Court. If I'm found guilty, all my assets will be taken from me, and I'll face 10 years of imprisonment. Charlene, on the other hand, will get to marry her ideal man—Joel Quinlan—as she wishes. If I'm acquitted of all charges, Charlene will be made to divorce me without alimony. She'll also be cursed with bad luck and disfigured so badly she'll be the ugliest woman in the world. Conversely, I'll be given 10 million dollars in reparations and gain a lifetime's worth of good luck. Everyone is advising me to admit to my mistakes, but only because Charlene has always been a virtuous, devoted wife in their eyes. They think that there must surely be some complicated grievances between us at the moment. However, they are unaware that I've been reborn. This time, I'm going to tear off Charlene's mask of hypocrisy.

My fiancee, Emma Jillard's assistant, Charlie Ziegler, loves placing bets. After Emma loses a bet to him, she cancels our wedding for the 19th time because of him. I warn her that if this happens again, I'll marry another woman immediately. But Emma just smiles at me nonchalantly. "You've already donated your kidney to me, Shawn. What makes you think you can marry someone else? Besides, who else but me will marry a handicap like you?" On the 20th wedding, Charlie sends Emma a photo of the airport, where half a flight ticket can be seen. This is another bet that he has made with her. "If you can't find me in half an hour, you will never be able to see me again." Having noticed the destination that's printed on the ticket, Emma rips her wedding veil off her head before rushing toward the airport in a fit of panic. Half an hour later, Charlie updates his social media feed. "Only the one who truly cares for you is willing to overcome challenges for you." Upon noticing the post, I don't bother responding to it. Instead, I quietly dial a phone number that I'm very familiar with. "Eleanor, are you still going to keep your word of marrying me back then?" Her voice echoes back excitedly. "Seriously? Of course! As long as you're my marriage partner, I will forever stick to that promise!"

The day before New Year's, my younger brother announced he was bringing his girlfriend home for dinner. Excited, I drove my new car to pick them up, taking my daughter along with me. However, as soon as his girlfriend got in the car, her face darkened. "Henry, you didn't tell me your sister was staying at your place—and with a kid!" she snapped. I frowned and was about to explain when my brother quickly interjected, "She's not staying. After dropping us off, she'll be heading to a hotel." Only then did his girlfriend's expression ease. I swallowed my discomfort and asked my brother what he was planning. He leaned in with a conspiratorial grin and said, "Sis, don't cause any trouble for me, okay? My girlfriend is the daughter of the Cromwell Group's CEO!" My eyes widened in shock. Was not the Cromwell Group the same company my ex-husband had just handed over to me as part of our divorce settlement?

My wedding starts at 12:00 pm on the dot. There are 58 tables, each table costing 8888 dollars. 120 bottles of premium liquor have been opened. 300 packs of top-tier cigarettes are unsealed. At 2:30 pm, all the guests have left the scene, leaving nothing but a huge mess behind. That's when a server hands me the bill. "It'll be 510 thousand dollars, miss." I'm left gobsmacked. "I'm a wedding guest, not the organizer." The groom is Charlie Humboldt, my ex-boyfriend. At the moment, he takes his pregnant bride, Sasha Fitch, by the hand while sneering at me. "Since you're here, you might as well foot the bill. Think of it as your way of compensating for my youth." Charlie's mother, Melissa Carlton, moves to block the door. "If you're not paying the bill, then you can forget about leaving. No one wants you anyway, so you might as well stay here and pay off your debt by working as a dishwasher!" As I stare at the shameless family, I dig out my phone quietly. What they don't know is that this five-star hotel is a gift from my dad to me.

My roommate blew up online overnight, becoming a 'luck streamer' that everyone could not stop talking about. On her livestream, she only took three requests a day. Anyone who paid could make a wish, and no matter how absurd it sounded, it would come true. However, ever since she started, my luck spiraled downhill. I would choke just drinking water. I would miss a step and tumble down the stairs. During finals, I even filled out my answer sheet in the wrong direction. She would always smile and reassure me, saying, "It's okay. Your zodiac sign is going through a strong Mercury retrograde this year. It'll get better soon." A few days later, a falling billboard crushed me to death in the street. It was only after I died that I learned the truth. Every wish she granted during her streams was paid for with my luck. The reason I died so suddenly was because someone had wished for their enemy's entire family to die. The price was too high, and my luck was completely drained. Then, I opened my eyes again. I was back to the moment not long after she had just started streaming. "Lucky?" Yeah, right. This time, she can be the one carrying all the bad luck.

I picked up a system with my sister. The system said only one of us could bind to it, and the other could take twenty million dollars. My sister shoved me aside and chose the money. Ten years later, she squandered everything and ended up homeless. Relying on the luck the system gave me, I excelled in my studies, climbed the career ladder, and reached the peak of my life. Driven by jealousy, my sister stabbed me to death at my birthday party. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day we found the system. This time, she said without hesitation, “Luck is too intangible. I’ll take the loss. You can have the fortune.” I knew she had been reborn, too. What she didn’t know was that the luck granted by the system always came at the cost of one’s lifespan.

My roommate beamed with pride as she told me a horrifying secret: she had allowed a wealthy businessman to "remove" her unborn child, claiming he absorbed the baby’s fortune in exchange for a hefty payout. Chills ran down my spine. I urged her to stop meddling with such dark dealings before it destroyed her, but she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she threw herself into it, addicted to helping people "transfer luck" for money. Her luck ran out when she contracted a mysterious disease. When her boyfriend found out, she turned on me, tearfully accusing me of tying her to another man’s bed. Before I could even defend myself, an enraged man ran me down with his car. The next thing I knew, I woke up to find myself back in time. My roommate was leaning in close, her eyes glinting with excitement as she whispered, asking if I wanted to join her "luck transfer" schemes. This time, I wasn’t taking any chances. I noticed the slight swell of her belly and immediately sent a text to her boyfriend: "Congrats! You’re going to be a dad!"