Perfect Addiction Novels & Stories

My in-laws were hit by a car crash. I called my husband, begging him to give me some money to pay the hospital bill. He said, "Oh, if you want money, just come out with it. That excuse is terrible!" He hung up on me. Despite how unfair it felt, I had to call him again. This time, a voice I was familiar with hit my ears. A woman's voice. "Chris, I got a bit too much sunscreen on my hand. Can I smear the rest on your abs?" Lovingly, my husband said, "You little troublemaker." His parents died that night. Overseas.

I am having a heart attack when Scott Lakin locks me inside the car. It's because my pain is frightening his childhood sweetheart. In response to my desperate pleas for help, he merely utters coldly, "I'll let you out when you apologize." I go into shock and have to be rushed to the hospital. I call Scott a dozen times, but he just blocks me. Finally, after I get discharged, I see him carefully feeding his childhood sweetheart chicken soup. "Have some food, darling. What if the baby in your belly is hungry?" After that, I return to my hometown without saying a word and stay there for half a month. After blocking me everywhere except the music streaming platform, Scott suddenly starts frantically searching for me. "Jennie, why didn't you add me back on Facebook this time?"

I realized my period was two weeks late after going on a trip to the swimming pool with my best friend, Gianna Lowe. Gianna insisted that I take a pregnancy test. I was stunned when I saw the two red lines on the pregnancy stick test. I had a boyfriend, Mitchell Gray, but I was a conservative person, so I still hadn't slept with Mitchell. I couldn't help but wonder whose baby this was. I planned to just terminate the mystery pregnancy, but Mitchell pretended to be worried about my health, offering to marry me and raise the child. It was finally my delivery date. I was lying weakly in the delivery room when Mitchell shoved a pillow over my face and smothered me, roaring, "You slut! Did you think I'd raise another man's child? I'll make you and this illegitimate child pay for everything!" I was too weak to resist since I had just given birth, so Mitchell successfully killed me. I suddenly open my eyes and realize that I have returned to the day I found out about my pregnancy. I am completely determined this time—I have to find out who the father really is!

I found out my husband, Logan Atkinson, had quietly added his secretary's number to our family plan. [Dear customer, the number ending in 8848 has been successfully added to your family plan. Effective immediately, all calls between plan members are free.] I held up my phone and looked straight at Logan. "You're treating her like family. What does that make me?" He sounded annoyed. "Regina said staying on the phone with me every night was getting expensive. If she's on the family plan, it doesn't cost anything. She's just used to saving money. Don't read into it." Regina said she had severe depression and couldn't fall asleep, so Logan stayed on the phone with her every night for at least seven hours. I stared at the call logs in the family plan. Even on our wedding anniversary, when I closed my eyes, wishing we would make it through another ten years and grow old side by side… He was still on the phone with Regina Dittman, coaxing her to sleep. When I didn't say anything, Logan looked a little surprised. "Wow. Quiet today? Finally learned how to be the bigger person?" I just didn't feel like arguing with them anymore. All those fights before had only proven one thing: he always chose Regina. After ten years in a broken marriage, it was time to set things straight.

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

Even though it's the New Year holidays, I'm still cooped up in the company while churning out the paperwork needed for the company's listing process. That's when my keyboard suddenly types a paragraph on its own. "Stop working already! Your boss is about to fire you, and yet you're still slaving away for his sake!" I'm stunned by the information I see. The keyboard goes on typing, "He said you only have a bachelor's degree. If not for the fact that you're a walking lucky charm, you wouldn't have gotten into this company in the first place! "Now that the company is in the process of getting listed, it's costing far too much just to keep you around! Even though you're being paid a high salary every month, you can't even provide the company with any value! "He intends to dismiss you the moment the company gets listed! Since it's the new year, new blood should be joining the company!" I've been holding my coffee mug the whole time. At that moment, I can feel my hands starting to tremble. For five years, the projects that I've manned never got into any problems. The final round of funding always came through. Even when we were choosing a new office, we came across the situation of an owner who was all-too happy to get rid of the building. I can say with great confidence that I'm 90% of the main reason how this company expanded from a tiny office to the entire building. To think that I'm the first person to be discarded right after my boss reaches his goal… I can feel my stomach twisting uneasily. Even my throat goes tight from the anxiety. Just as I'm about to leave, a few angry voices ring out in the office. "I'm an office chair! I'll break during the board meeting tomorrow and make sure that your boss falls right on his ass!" "I'm a printer! I'll make sure to print all the documents he wants with nothing but gibberish on them!" "I'm a coffee machine! Tomorrow, I'll whip him a special brew that ensures he will never get to leave the toilet bowl for the rest of the day!"

For eighteen years, my wife, Elizabeth Connerty, never once reached out to her first love, Lucas Ryder. She committed herself fully to me and cooked warm meals for me. She attended every parent-teacher conference for our daughter. She carefully planned our family trips year after year. That was how we lived—quietly, steadily, and happily—for eighteen years. But after our daughter celebrated her eighteenth birthday, I turned to Elizabeth and said, "Let's get a divorce." She stood in the doorway of our daughter's bedroom, staring at me in stunned silence. I added calmly, "When our daughter was born, you promised me that once she turned eighteen, we would divorce."

I grabbed an extra work meal to entertain a client. My boyfriend's sister saw it and went ballistic, docking my entire $500K commission. She pointed at my nose and screamed, "Are you taking me for a fool? You're just hiding behind 'client entertainment' to rip off the company! It's shameful, damaging the company's image! All of your commission for this month will be deducted as a warning to others." The client looked at me, wide-eyed in shock. I shrugged. "Do what makes you happy. Just don't regret it later." From then on, I started slacking off, and she freaked out.

The intern secretly submitted a voluntary pay-cut application on my behalf. As a result, my salary dropped from $10,000 to $2,000. When I found out and confronted him, my boss and colleagues all defended him. "The company is not doing great right now. Oscar was just trying to save costs for us. Do you have to nickel-and-dime over this?" With my salary so low, I couldn't afford the special medication for my chronic migraines, and one day I passed out at my desk during an attack. But the intern snuck a video of me unconscious and posted it on the company's website. He even whipped up a detailed 100-page slideshow breaking down how I was slacking off on the clock and dumping all my work on him. Overnight, I was labeled a workplace bully. My boss gave me the cold shoulder, and my colleagues whispered about me. Even worse, some extreme "anti-workplace-bullying" activists tracked me down to my home, showed up with two cans of gasoline, and burned me and my parents alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the intern had submitted my pay-cut form. In this second chance at life, I would make sure everyone saw the intern for who he truly was.

I rush into work this morning and accidentally send the car photos meant for the dealership into the medical intern group chat. The new intern snaps at me. "Dr. Tyson, why are you sending me pictures of my car? Are you jealous and trying to steal attention?" I stop short and ask if she has mixed things up, because the car is mine. She fires back with a whole stack of photos of herself driving a G-class with one hand, plus videos to prove the car in my picture belongs to her. She even tacks on a snide little jab. "You're a shameless, broke wannabe. You want any spotlight you can grab. You think a picture of a car is going to make you the lady of the Reed family?" I frown and turn to my husband, Jackson Reed. "Since when does the Reed family have a second lady of the house?"