Regular Show Eileen Flat Screen Novels & Stories

Ever since I tied the knot with Connor Steele, he ditched his playboy ways and cut off all his side flings. Everyone thought I had him wrapped around my finger, with our perfect little family. But that all came crashing down on our ninth anniversary when I accidentally saw his group chat with his friends. [Connor, how was that Bentley ride with Ashley yesterday? Pretty wild, huh?] [We tried every spot imaginable. She's totally obsessed with me and can't get enough.] There was a steamy photo of them attached, and the group was blowing up with cheers and congrats, wishing them happiness ever after. I stared at the screen, feeling a sharp stab of pain hit me right in the chest. It turned out that all our happy moments were just a carefully staged performance. I sat there in a daze all night, waiting for him to get home. When he finally walked in with a cake, I let out a cold laugh. "I know everything now. Aren't you sick of faking it?"

My husband had just ducked into the bathroom when his phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen and saw it was his brother calling. A frown creased my brow, but I answered anyway. "George, why haven't you sent the $10,000 to Mom and Dad this month?" Ross Serrano said. "Mom just asked me about it." I hung up without a word, but a rush of fury surged through me. My husband stood at the bathroom door, his hands still dripping wet. I forced a bitter smile. "You make $8,000 a month, right? $3,000 goes to the mortgage, $2,000 to me, and you pocket $1,000 for yourself. You told me you sent $2,000 to your parents, so how did that magically turn into $10,000?" His lips quivered, his face draining of color. My heart sank, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. We'd been married for five years, and I'd never once laid eyes on his bank card. What other secrets was he keeping from me?

'why does she always wear the same white top? Is she dense enough not to notice the bloodstains?’ But then he figured out the most perfect and possible explanation. She’s must have wanted to show him how much blood he spilled over each torture session.

On the day Zachary Lake stands at the pinnacle of global technology, accepting his award, I'm lying in a hospital bed, abandoned by doctors because I can't afford treatment for kidney failure. On TV, the host asks him to call the person he's most grateful for. Without hesitation, he dials my number. "Shannon, do you regret leaving me?" he asks. I clutch the astronomical medical bill in my hand, the paper crumpling beneath my fingers. Forcing a light tone, I reply, "Can you take me on as your kept woman now that you're a big deal?" On screen, his face remains expressionless as he hangs up without a word. Then, his cold voice pierces through the broadcast. "Now, I have nothing to feel grateful for." But what he doesn't know is that when he was on the brink of death years ago, I was the one who gave him my kidney.

I made a deal with Sonia Quindt—the billionaire CEO. After I'd proposed to her ninety-nine freaking times, she swore she'd finally show up for the hundredth. Spoiler: she didn't. She was out there at some concert with her boy toy. And, of course, someone caught them on livestream. Big kiss. Big viral moment. Meanwhile, my face was plastered all over the internet too—lonely guy number one, waiting for a bride who never existed. Everyone online started making bets. Who was the mystery woman? How long until I came crawling back for the hundred-and-first proposal? Sonia, apparently struck by some last-minute guilt, promised she'd make it right next time. Said she'd actually show up. And she did. Wedding dress. Perfect makeup. Cameras ready. She got a text from me: [Sonia, there won't be a hundred-and-first proposal. We're done.]

I, Isabella Norton, once made a promise with Julian Lawson, the billionaire CEO. After 98 proposals, he vows to appear at the doors of the city hall on my 99th attempt. But when the day comes, he doesn't show up. Instead, he brings his mistress, Natalie Mayer, to a concert. The sweet kiss they share under the camera's spotlight quickly turns into a trending sensation. At the same time, I also make headlines for turning up at the city hall for the 99th time. Speculations about the mysterious groom who never makes an appearance run wild. Everyone wonders when I will make my 100th attempt to propose. Out of guilt, Julian promises to show up next time when he realizes that I have carried out my promise. But when he finally arrives there clad in an impeccable suit, all he receives is a text message from me. "There won't be a hundredth proposal. It's over between us."

Maya Rivers came to Eldridge Falls to disappear — to bury herself in routine, classes, and the quiet anonymity of the library stacks. But secrets don’t stay buried here. Not in the same town where her best friend Lena has already learned how quickly desire can ignite in the shadows. For Maya, it begins as a late-night confession whispered into the glow of her phone. A fantasy shared with a stranger. Harmless, she thought—until the fantasy steps out of the screen and into the library aisles. Now every night draws her deeper into a game of secrets and proximity, where rules are written in whispers and broken with a touch. The man in the shadows knows too much, appears too often, and echoes words she thought no one else could read. As Maya wrestles with temptation, danger, and the thrill of being noticed, her story begins to intertwine with Lena’s. In Eldridge Falls, boundaries blur, shadows stretch long, and desire has a way of pulling you past the lines you swore you’d never cross. Some secrets keep you safe. Others demand to be lived.

My mother-in-law, Susan Thorne, was trapped in a fire, and her life was in grave danger. She called me for help. When I arrived, I saw a male actor, Maximus Lance, pouring gasoline onto the fire for a variety show’s effect. I tried to stop him, but he simply threw a lawyer’s letter in my face and said, “Who are you to mess with our show’s filming? I’ll sue you into bankruptcy!” I smashed the camera and yelled that someone was still inside. The male actor just lit a cigarette nonchalantly and said, “So? My wife is the fire chief. She’s the one who told them to light this fire. “Even if someone’s in there, it’s probably just a nobody. She can fix it.” I saw the ring on his finger. It was the ring I thought would be mine. I scoffed and dialed 911. “Hello? I want to report someone for deliberate arson and attempted murder at an abandoned factory.”

Three years married to Victor, the Don, and as far as New York was concerned, we were untouchable. Until my own car was in the shop, so I took his daily driver from the garage. On the way, I activated the car's smart system and said, "Navigate home." But the screen pinpointed a place I had never seen before — a villa in the suburbs. Then, a sugary-sweet voice floated from the speakers: "Okay! Setting course for Victor and Mia's secret castle." My stomach dropped. Who was Mia? And what secret castle? Without a second thought, I dialed his number. "The home address is set to some strange place." He just laughed it off. "Oh, that. One of my guys' car broke down the other day. I let him use mine to drop someone off." "Okay, no problem," I said, smiling into the phone. I ended the call and pulled up the navigation history. That villa address was listed seventeen times, every single one on a day Victor was supposedly "out of town on business." I fired up the engine and drove.

Gideon Hart, a man known for keeping every woman at arm's length, gets drugged and wakes up in a hotel with me lying beside him. Afterward, he comes to me and offers ten million as compensation. When I remain silent, my best friend, Lena Quimby, jumps in like she's been waiting for her cue. She snaps that money can't buy everything, trying to reject the offer on my behalf. Before I can say a word, comments start flashing before me like a live stream chat. "Here we go! The male lead, the female lead, and the side character are all on screen together!" "Lena's so classy. Way better than that gold-digger Evelyn." "Watch Evelyn reject the money and still get clowned!" "Who wouldn't pick the sweet, innocent heroine?" Glancing at Lena's flushed cheeks and the way her eyes stick to Gideon, I almost let out a cold laugh. Then, I turn to the man in front of me and hold up my Venmo QR code. "Sure. Wire it!"