Perfect Match Novel Novels & Stories

My husband, Joseph Coleman, falls from the third floor, shatters both legs, and even injures what men fear losing most. I don't rush him to the nearest hospital. Instead, I drive him to a hospital two thousand miles away. In my previous life, Joseph jumped on purpose so the hospital intern he dotes on, Kimberly Parker, could secure a permanent spot by operating on him. He refused the capable surgeons nearby and insisted I take him to the hospital where Kimberly works, just so she can treat him. I turned him down because Kimberly is an untrained intern who got in through connections and has no surgical experience. Joseph had slapped me hard across the face. "I just want to use my injury to help Kim go permanent. Why are you being so petty?" He was dead set on Kimberly treating him. I worried the delay would ruin his legs, so I asked his mother, Diane Lowe, to talk sense into him. But what I never expected was Kimberly jumping from the hospital building when she failed her probation. Meanwhile, Joseph is treated in time, and both legs are spared. On the day he's discharged, I come smiling to take him home, but he runs me down with his car and kills me. As I collapse on the floor, choking on blood, I ask him why. He looks at me like I'm something stuck to his shoe. "If you hadn't stopped me from helping Kimberly go permanent, she never would've died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Joseph falls and breaks his legs.

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone. She claims that she is me three years in the future. "Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger." I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly. "Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is." In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."

I send my sister, Lola Graham, to my couture boutique to pick out a wedding dress. As she is leaving, a trainee clerk, Kayla Larson, demands three million for the gown. Helpless, Lola says my name. "I'm the owner's sister. I don't have to pay." Kayla rolls her eyes. "You're pranking the wrong store. Our boss doesn't have a sister. You're just broke and trying to scam us!" she snapped, blocking my sister's way. "This is your last warning—either pay up, or I'll rip that dress off you and throw you out!" Stunned, Lola calls me. When I rush over, I hear my long-time store manager standing deferentially behind Kayla, warning Lola, "You'd better behave. The woman in front of you is our boss' wife. Cross her, and you'll regret it." "Trying to fake your way in here? You've got some nerve," Kayla sneers, adding to my sister's humiliation. My hand freezes on the door. Without hesitation, I cut off my husband's secondary credit card and call him. "Have I been too generous with you? Or did giving you too much money make you think you could afford another woman behind my back?"

On the day of the wedding, my best friend, Elena Hartman, can't bear to part with me, so she threads my wedding shoes with a string and ties them snugly around her slim waist. The groomsmen turn the whole place upside down, and we end up late for the ceremony. She eventually cracks up and tugs at her billowy bridesmaid dress, revealing the outline of the shoes at her waist. "I dare you to come take them. As long as I'm here, she's not getting married!" My fiancé, Miles Lawson, shakes his head and chuckles. "You just love tormenting us, don't you?" Miles exchanges a look with the groomsmen, and they charge at her at the same time. She squeals as she falls back onto the bed, squirming under her layers of tulle. "Don't be so rough! I'm ticklish…" The groomsmen flush bright red. Miles' ears turn scarlet as he feels around her waist. She giggles even louder. "How are you going to undo it through all these layers? Use your head!" Then, she gasped. "That tickles!" Her theatrics make my temper flare. I spring to my feet, lift her skirt, and rip the wedding shoes right off her. "If you're that ticklish, smack yourself with a slipper. Drop the act, or I'll yank out the nerves that make you ticklish!"

My name is Melanie Sutton. The moment I'm reborn, the first thing I do is scatter the "ashes" of my best friend, Helen Doyle. In my last life, she got pregnant before marriage and was abandoned by both her boyfriend and her family. She struggled alone all the way through childbirth, only to suffer massive bleeding in the delivery room. With her last breath, she begged me to adopt her son. I agreed out of pity. To raise the child, I fell behind in my studies and was forced to drop out of school. With no choice, I took my adopted son, Aidan Sutton, with me to work, enduring endless humiliation and cold stares. Finally, when he turned 18, a talent scout discovered him. One movie later, he became an overnight sensation and won Best Actor. At the awards ceremony, Helen, whom I watched die 18 years ago, entered arm in arm with my ex-boyfriend, Joe Shepherd. Stunned, I rushed forward to confront her. She only smiled at me. "Congratulations, you passed the test." I stood there in shock as Joe explained proudly, "Helen is the daughter of the richest man. Who knows if you got close to her for her money? "Since you've raised our son well, you can be her ordinary friend. If you raise him until he gets married and has kids, then you can become Helen's best friend." My mind exploded. As if I wanted to be her friend. That was 18 years of my life! Overwhelmed by fury and hurt, I lunged at the two of them with bloodshot eyes. But Aidan suddenly rushed down from the stage and shoved me hard. "Are you crazy? How dare you hurt my parents?" Anger rushed to my head, and I passed out right then and there. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day Helen goes into labor.

On the day that I returned to the country, Lola Lawson, the one who was once the love of my life for ten years, sent me a picture of a baby. She told me to think of a name and meet her at the city hall to register the baby, as she had prepared a welcome-home gift for me. So, I rushed over with bags full of baby supplies. But when I arrived, she and her girlfriends were bent over with ridicule and laughter. "I told you! Even though he was gone for a year, he's still a loyal lapdog! Just a wave of my hand and he'd even be willing to raise someone else's kid for me!" She sized me up with mocking amusement. "Kevin Sheraton. How could you still be this naive? Just one joke and you come running?" They laughed without any restraint, calling me names and hurling insults, saying I'd do anything for Lola. But when I walked past them and took a number to register my own child's birth, and later wrapped my arm around my wife as the three of us took a family portrait, Lola's eyes were completely reddened with tears.

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

During my legal aid work, I run into a pitiful village girl. Her brother is abusing her, and she has nearly died from his fist. As a lawyer, I can't stand aside and do nothing. So, I help her. After she wins the case, I help her get a job as a janitor at my law firm. A few days later, she becomes pregnant and disappears. I assume she has found a family. However, she returns with a baby and accuses me of raping her. Then, she demands I compensate her. I believe she is just spouting nonsense. But the paternity test comes, and it states that I am the baby's biological father. From that moment on, I become a pariah. I am labeled a disgrace and treated as the scum of the Earth. My girlfriend breaks up with me. Meanwhile, my parents can't bear the shame and commit suicide. Then, a self-righteous fool pushes me off an 18-story building. Even as I die, I still can't understand how she became pregnant with my child. Using her identity as the baby's mother, she inherits all of my assets upon my and my parents' deaths. She then goes on to live the life of a wealthy socialite. When I open my eyes, I am back at the moment I see her getting beaten by her brother.

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.

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.