If I Were A Carpenter Novels & Stories

I gave birth prematurely, just twenty days before the due date. Two hours after I entered the surgery room, I had a stillborn baby. I did not cry at all. I did not even spare a glance at the dead baby. I endured the pain from childbirth and calmly walked into the hospital nursery. After the door was tightly shut, I turned down the temperature of the air-conditioning. The temperature inside the nursery would be too cold for newborns to bear after an hour. The doctors and parents were begging me on their knees to let their babies live. They screamed and cried. They said I was a mother and hoped that I would understand. Instead, I laughed and said, “Yes, I was a mother. But my baby died!” The gynecologist knelt on the floor and begged, “We may be at fault for not being able to save your baby, but these babies are innocent! “Please don’t be reckless just because you lost your baby! You’re so young. You’ll have more babies in the future.” I gritted my teeth and roared, “But my baby isn’t dead! “She’s still alive. I’ll give you one hour. Bring her back to me!” But I was unsure if she would still be alive after an hour.

I was the most notorious terror child in the entire neighborhood. Every day, I threw a tantrum and claimed a parking spot as my own. I refused to let anyone else park there. The other residents had no choice but to leave their cars on the street, where they received expensive parking tickets. I held a neighbor’s seven-year-old pet duck under water until it drowned. The duck had been worth a thousand dollars. I did it simply because I wanted to taste duck meat. In the elevator, I would cancel everyone else’s floors for fun. One day, the elevator broke down. A neighbor was trapped inside so long that they nearly suffocated. My parents were at their wits’ end. More than once, they beat me in public over my actions. They even broke down in front of everyone and cursed me. “How did I end up with such a rotten child?” “Why don’t you just die?” I thought. “But Mom, Dad, weren’t these the very things you taught me?” I lowered my head, heartbroken. “Kid, are your parents bad to you? Why don’t I find you a new mom and dad?” a tempting voice asked. I looked up at the scarred man standing in front of me. Hope flickered across my face. I nodded.

My boyfriend, Liam Sterling, has a female friend, Lyra Kensington, who’s always been far too comfortable crossing lines. On our anniversary, she gifted him an alarm clock, leaning in to whisper loud enough for me to hear, “For timing. I’m afraid he won’t last.” At our engagement party, she sauntered over with a self-satisfied smirk and handed him a box of extra-small condoms as her engagement gift. The day finally came when Liam proposed to me. But just before we were supposed to register the marriage, Liam dropped the truth: “Lyra needs a nominal father for her baby, but I will marry you in eight months.” No one doubts that I would be as devoted as ever to wait another eight months. After all, I’ve already spent seven years by his side. But at that very night, I accepted my family’s plan abroad and vanished from Liam’s world forever.

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older brothers brought home a twelve-year-old orphaned Omega. My alpha brother seized the rare healing herb I'd spent all my savings on—herbs meant to ease my first transformation—and gave them to her instead. "You're strong enough," he growled. "You don't need such precious herbs." My beta brother snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. "Get out! Don't come back!" I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left. They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I'd return in a few days. My brothers, finally free of my presence, took the orphan girl on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted an offer from the neighboring pack's Head Healer. The position required fifteen years of isolated herbal research. I could never return home. That night, they fell apart.

Every April Fools' Day, my boyfriend joined his childhood friend in the same cruel prank, pretending to propose to me. Last year, I slipped the ring onto my finger, my heart full of hope. Suddenly, the mechanism snapped tight. Pain shot through my hand, and I cried out. He apologized afterward and promised that, this year, the proposal would be real. As such, I arrived carefully dressed, believing him. Instead, I was met with a face full of cake. He reached out gently, wiping the cream from my face as if it were nothing more than a harmless joke. However, this time, I took a step back. After six disappointments, I chose to walk away. So why was it that, in the end, he was the one consumed by regret?

When the results were released, my stepbrother, Dylan Anderson, conspired with our class teacher and accused me of cheating. When they presented the two examination papers with the exact steps written out, I was rendered speechless. My biological parents forced me to admit that I cheated to protect Dylan’s reputation. Then, they forcefully sent me to a mental asylum. To cover up the scandal, the Anderson family told everyone that I had gone insane. They left me to suffer alone. I finally escaped, but died tragically in a car accident facilitated by Dylan. When I died, I finally learned that the phrase “blood was thicker than water” held no truth. It was no match to Dylan’s lies. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the past. I was in the examination hall again. I handed in four blank examination papers. I wanted to see how they could accuse me of cheating if I scored zero on all papers.

For six years of marriage, Cyran Valehart and I lived with measured respect, as if we were partners holding the same scale in perfect balance. For the sake of my equestrian career, I refused to have children. He shouldered the gossip, endured the judgment, and stood beside me without hesitation. But when I rode into what should have been my final international competition, he went back home with his first love—her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. "All these years, you chose the horses over me," he spat. "That damned competition meant more to you than our family ever did." His voice shook with righteous anger, but his next words cut far deeper. "Six years ago, I abandoned Celia once. Now she carries my child. I won't betray her again." In that instant, my marriage became nothing but a title. I was reduced to a wife in name only, a figurehead in his home, a shadow he no longer cared to see. During the very competition meant to crown my life's work, Cyran laced a sharp needle beneath my saddle, each stride of my horse a fresh stab of pain meant to break us both. I lost the match. My horse collapsed with a shattered leg. And in that fall, my dream and my marriage were crushed together—ruined by the very man who once swore to protect them. Later, he paid with everything he had, desperate to make amends. But no matter what he sacrificed, Cyran Valehart was already behind me, nothing more than a ghost I would never turn to face again.

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.

All my life, I thought I had it all figured out — the quiet, obedient girl who did what was expected and stayed in the shadows. But life has a way of turning everything upside down. I’ve lived with rules, expectations, and secrets I never dared to speak aloud. I’ve tried to be who everyone wanted me to be, but now… I’m starting to ask myself who I really am. And then there’s Lucas — a presence I can’t ignore, though I’m not sure what he truly means for me. Between past pains, the choices I make, and the life I’m trying to claim for myself, I’m learning that growing up is complicated… and sometimes, it hurts.

When I caught Christian Helmley cheating on me for the tenth time, he dragged his lover over without any hesitation and let me decide her fate. When I caught him cheating for the 28th time, he cried and groveled and begged for my forgiveness. The man went so far as to curse his bloodline for that. By the ninety-eighth time, nothing he did could touch me anymore. I was numb. All I did was crouch beyond the door of his study while he and his lover were going at it like animals. Then it was the last time I caught him cheating. He came back and kissed me right after sleeping with another woman. One day before I left, he barged in with a crying girl in his arms. Christian berated me, accusing me of killing his son. "I can't believe you! You're not the woman I know!" He pressed the tip of a fountain pen against my belly, and I forced my tears back. "I don't want any other woman carrying my children. I only want Jasmine! God, can you stop being possessive for one second? You're practically a hag now, Natasha. Pull this again, and I'll send you to an asylum!" All that elicited from me was a bitter smile. I had no strength left to argue. "Yes, yes, I envy her. She took my husband from me, but I guess I should say goodbye and bless your relationship on the way out now." Then I jumped into the rolling sea right before his eyes. Only one thought remained in my mind. 'That's the last of the love I had for you, Christian.'