Short Tragic

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

When I follow my boyfriend back to his hometown, I accidentally discover the wounds and scars all over his sister's body. Then, an old lady in the village tells me to flee as quickly as I can. This makes me shudder. Before I can process what's happening, I run into my long-lost best friend at my boyfriend's uncle's house. The way my boyfriend looks at me becomes increasingly creepy…

After coming back to life, I seek out a witch to erase the fated bond between me and Adrian Westwood. Then, using a magic potion that can transfer fated bonds, I plan to give it to his adopted sister, Hazel Quinn. From that moment on, Adrian will believe she is his one true mate. Before the marking ceremony, I quietly changed the bride's name on the invitations and gave Hazel the exquisite gown I had spent nearly six months having custom-made. After the ceremony, Adrian and Hazel left for the Southlands together. Adrian uses his authority as Alpha to let Hazel take the university spot that was meant for me. He even writes her a letter of recommendation to Eldren University so she can explore the human world. Meanwhile, I walk away and begin my studies at Harvard University, one of the top universities in the world. In my previous life, Adrian and I spent 20 years together. But in the end, he knelt at my feet in front of our descendants, begging me to sever the mate bond so he could be buried next to Hazel after he died. In this life, I decide not to sacrifice my future for anyone else. This time, I'm pursuing my own dreams at the top university, determined to make myself proud and never look back.

I suffered critical injuries that left me in a persistent vegetative state when I tried to rescue my wife, Regina Livingston, from her abductors. Regina spares no expense, spending millions of dollars to bring in the best medical experts in the country to treat me. She watches over me every single night, never weary of caring for me. Four years into my coma, I overhear a conversation between Richard Sutherland—a man I don't know—and Regina. "You've done all you can, Regina," he says. "You don't owe him anything anymore." Regina remains silent. Then, a young boy, Franklin Sutherland, suddenly asks, "Mommy, why do you always visit this man? Who is he?" I'm instantly shocked. Regina and I don't have a child together. I'm completely bewildered, and just as I try to figure it out, I suddenly wake up from my coma.

I have been the Donna of the Smith family for nine years— but only in name. I took my deceased twin sister Lily’s place, raised her daughter Emma as my own, and lived beside a husband, David, who never once looked at me with love. For nine long years, I gave everything. Emma, however, only saw me as the woman who “killed her mother,” never knowing it was Lily who stole my marriage, my identity, and the man who was supposed to be mine. She pushed me in public, screamed that I was a murderer, and even used the gun I gifted her to shoot the only thing that brought me comfort—a tiny bird I’d been nursing back to health. And David… David, the man I once loved with my whole heart, couldn’t hide the coldness in his eyes. Every time he looked at me, I could feel Lily’s shadow standing between us. So I made a decision. If this family wanted Lily so badly— then they could have her ghost. I would leave the Smith estate, the title of Donna, the child who hated me, and the man who never wanted me. But the night I packed my bags, David suddenly appeared in the doorway, blocking my path— his eyes no longer cold, but afraid. As if he had finally realized what losing me truly meant.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

On the day the true heiress and I swapped places, my childhood sweetheart, bound to me by a promise made in youth, gripped my hand before our families and declared, "I chose you, not your title." Anna Pedersen, tears brimming in her eyes, enveloped me in a trembling embrace. "Joanne, we'll always be family. I'd never take what's rightfully yours." Everyone assumed I'd turned misfortune into fortune. Though I lost my status as the Pedersen heiress, I gained a steadfast lover and a selfless sister. But three years after fate corrected itself, photos of Calvin Thomas escorting Anna to a prenatal checkup flooded the internet. When I confronted him, he exhaled a plume of smoke and said coolly, "Anna is my true betrothed. This is just setting things right. Why are you so worked up?" He seized my wrist and dragged our engraved engagement ring across the back of my hand, leaving a bloody gash. "This scar will remind you of the twenty years of life you stole. Your life and I belong to their rightful owner."

On the day the gynecologist confirmed that I was pregnant, my husband, Austin Jones, pushed me into the operating room to donate blood to save his first love. Feeling frail after the blood transfusion, I almost fainted in front of Austin. However, he pushed me away and went to take care of his first love. Furthermore, he hung up on all my phone calls and stayed with his first love all night on the day I miscarried. Time after time, I was met with disappointment. When I finally decided that I had enough of his mistreatment and no longer wanted to love him, he panicked and begged me to give him another chance.

My husband, Clement Norman, promised to make up for our missed honeymoon. It was five years late, but I was still excited. I got ready and really looked forward to it. But right before we boarded the plane, I realized there was someone extra in our group—Clement's childhood friend, Madison Bowen. He explained half-heartedly, "Madison's never been abroad before. I figured we could bring her along." I wasn't thrilled, but when I spoke up, he made it sound like I was being dramatic. "Are you jealous of our relationship because you didn't grow up with a proper family? I see her as a sister. You wouldn't get it—you grew up an orphan." I chose to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin our honeymoon. But we encountered an avalanche halfway through the trip. My leg got stuck deep in the snow, and I couldn't move. And the first thing Clement did was grab Madison's hand and run. He didn't even look back.