Good Short

I once thought Jareth was the love of my life. He said "Mom's in the hospital," but then turned around and kissed Lily in the VIP seats at the concert; when his bipolar disorder flared up, he was violent with me, but then told Lily, "You’re such a good girl"; he had videos with Lily saved on his phone, and in the chat records, he called me "the cold, emotionless finance robot." Five years of love, ruined in his lies and betrayals. He thought I would cry and scream, but all I did was watch him finish his final act. When he knelt on the ground and said, "I was wrong," what I handed him was the merger agreement: "Sign it. This is the first debt you owe me." Those broken hearts will eventually turn into sharp blades that will pierce him. And I will rise from the ruins, living more beautifully than anyone else.

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

The fifth time we went to the courthouse, James Ceasar and I still weren’t officially married. We had picked a good day for it, but right before it was our turn, he got a call and rushed off in a hurry. With my eyes turning red, I pointed at the screen showing the waiting numbers, trying to stop him. “We're next. It won't take more than ten minutes. We can get it done fast. Once we’re officially married, you can go and deal with whatever’s so urgent. It won’t take long.” James was the CEO of his company, so he had full control over his schedule. That was why I said it like that, not thinking it would be a big deal. However, he just glanced at the screen, handed me the ticket with our number on it, and looked annoyed. “I can marry you anytime,” he said. “But right now, I’ve got something I need to take care of. Don’t make a fuss.”

When we were about to head to the amusement park, my Beta boyfriend, Drew, brought along a woman and her daughter. There happened to be one seat short in the car. Drew told me to get out and give my seat to the two of them. “Laura has a kid with her. Let them go first. I’ll come back for you later,” he said. I calmly stepped out and watched as the car slowly pulled away from the pack. Three hours later, they arrived at the amusement park for the fireworks and feast. When a friend asked Drew why he still hadn’t come back to get me, Drew was patiently helping Laura light a giant firework. He wasn’t in a rush at all and even said, “It’ll be fine if I pick Sienna up later. She won’t mind. I’ll coax her a bit, and she’ll stop being mad.” Anger only worked on people who cared about someone. My dad, mom, and brother never cared, and now, not even Drew cared anymore. It was time for me to leave for good.

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.

I'm admitted to the hospital for gastritis, but my boyfriend shoots to his feet after receiving a call. "Chelsea has a fever. I'll go check on her; I'll be right back!" He runs off without waiting for me to say anything and doesn't return for the rest of the night. That night, I see a short clip that Chelsea Calloway has shared. "I'm not afraid of any illness with you by my side." I comment, "He is pretty good at caring for others."

My best friend, Sienna Monroe, who always swears she'll never marry, goes with me to the fertility clinic and suddenly snatches away the donor profile I choose. That's when I know she has come back to life too. In my previous life, I wanted a mixed-race baby, so I chose the IVF route. Sienna mocked me, saying I'd just be raising someone else's child. But two weeks later, I was taken to the royal palace of Valoria. It turned out the donor I picked was none other than the Prince of Valoria, a man of eight national lineages. He not only insisted on marrying me as his princess but also promised that our child would inherit the throne. The baby and I were cherished by the entire royal family, so much so that the jewels they draped over me nearly bent my back. Meanwhile, Sienna flaunted her extreme feminist stance and offended business partners. In the end, she was fired and blacklisted across the industry. Sienna spent all her savings on a plane ticket to attend my party, where I would introduce my baby to everyone. But when I went to welcome her, she crushed my son to death in her hands and splashed concentrated acid on me. "You don't deserve such good fortune! You worthless witch!" But when I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day I asked her to go with me to the fertility clinic.

On our wedding anniversary, my husband has his intern put on the custom-made wedding gown he prepared for me. "You wouldn't have looked good in a wedding gown with your baby bump, anyway. She's saving us trouble by wearing the gown for you. Think about how kind she is!" Before I can rebuke him, an earthquake happens. I lose my balance and fall to the floor. Instantly, I feel moisture on my legs. At the same time, my husband received a call from his intern. "There are so many frogs here, Mr. Quinn. I'm so scared…" My husband turns to leave, but I grab his pant leg. "Ethan, I—" "It's just a minor earthquake—the ground barely even shook. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. Didn't you hear Chloe crying because she was so scared? Can't you be sympathetic?" He ignores the blood pooling around me and hurries off to comfort Chloe Bennett. That night, they share a passionate kiss under a sky full of fireworks. Meanwhile, my child dies in my belly. It's a pretty good way to end things. Someone like Ethan Quinn doesn't deserve to have his own children.

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"