Short Romance Stories & Novels

When I first met Thomas Hilton, he was still a street punk covered in blood. The only good thing about him was the clumsy sincerity when he tattooed my name on his chest. Later, when he rose to power, with a wave of his hand, he gave me half of Bronze Bay as a wedding gift. Everyone in Harborwood knew that I, Jessica Shaw, was more important to him than his own life. That was until today, when the celebrity Thomas kept finally walked into our house. With a big belly, she said to me with a smile, "Ms. Shaw, are you going to leave with dignity now, or wait until my son grows up and throws you out of this place?" I just raised my hand and ordered a subordinate to help her "give birth". When Thomas saw the pool of blood beneath her, he flew into a rage. He pressed a knife to my neck and said, "Jessica, you should know when to be satisfied!" I laughed softly and pressed the muzzle of a gun against his heart. "You really had a change of heart. Good thing my heart didn't change. My truest self is my ambition." Bang! A gunshot rang out.

For the hundredth time, my dad hints at us that he really wants to become a grandfather during New Year Eve's dinner. Lydia Cooper, my wife who has insisted on living a childless life for the past decade, just smiles before placing more food on his plate. After dinner, she ducks out to the balcony and murmurs into her phone, "Be good, now. Mommy will visit you a few days later." I can feel my blood running cold in my veins as I stand in the living room with a glass of water. As I approach Lydia, I do my best to keep my voice light and teasing. "I just heard you say the word 'mommy.' Do you have an illegitimate child out there somewhere?" Lydia rubs her nose, her tone now awkward. "You might be hearing things. It was just my friend's child…" My heart plunges into my stomach pit at her words. I've been in love with Lydia for ten years. It's only natural that I know how she acts whenever she's lying.

My girlfriend, Celia Winters, had her first love save her life before, so she promised to do three things for him. The first time, he called her away to ride the Ferris wheel with him when I was supposed to propose to my girlfriend. The second time, he asked her to accompany him to see the northern lights while I was ill and hospitalized. I had a crush on my girlfriend for eight years, so I endured all of this. It was not until our wedding that my girlfriend publicly admitted that she had not married the one she loved the most. She comforted me, "Zane, I'll have nothing to do with Shane anymore after this. Could you please forgive me again?" However, I did not want to endure it any longer. Since she had not married the right person, I would let her marry him!

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.

It was the day Jessica Goldenfold got the International Wealth Club Charity Award. My doctor pronounced me dead, for I could not afford the artificial heart needed for my survival. The show's host asked Jessica to call the one whom she had the most regret about. She called my number. I picked it up. She asked, "Do you ever regret leaving me for money?" I stared at the obscene bill for the artificial heart. Then, I chuckled. "You're a rich girl, Jessica. How about a loan of 30 grand?" She killed the call. I watched her telling everyone in front of the cameras, "No more regrets." She had no idea at all. She had no idea that I was the one who gave my heart to her when she had heart failure. I did it behind her back.

After seven years of marriage, my husband grew tired of our quiet life and took a college student as his mistress. That fragile, pitiable girl held Alain Roth so completely he didn't come home for an entire month, no matter how I begged. On our son's third birthday, I came to their villa, holding the feverish child and pleading for him to return. Inside, he stayed lost in passion with her. Jeff Roth drew his last breath in my arms while their pleasure echoed through the night. At the funeral, Alain held me and wept, swearing he would return to the family and love only me. I agreed, driven solely by Jeff's dying wish. Four years later, a video from his old kindergarten surfaced, showing Alain with a radiant Mabel Flores and a three-year-old boy. The boy smiled brightly at the camera, lifting a trophy high. "Mom, Dad, we're the happiest family in the world!"

On my fourth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Brady, hands over a divorce agreement to me. "My mom is afflicted with a severe disease, and she's dying soon. Her final wish is to watch us get a divorce. "I promise that this is just a fake divorce. Once my mom has passed away, we'll get remarried again." As I watch Rachel sob sadly in front of me, I agree to her proposition out of sympathy. But as soon as we get divorced, Rachel quickly posts a photo of her and her first love, Max Cohen, in wedding attire on her social media account. Even my ex-mother-in-law, who's said to live on borrowed time, is included in the same photo while looking hearty and hale.

At the company's year-end awards ceremony, just as it is supposed to be my turn to go on stage and officially announce the relationship between my wife and me, my wife's first love suddenly proposes to her in front of everyone. Angela Reed does not refuse. Instead, she laughs brightly and promotes Samuel Hayden to the new department manager. Employees throughout the entire company cheer loudly for their romance. Seeing that I have no reaction, someone beside me cannot help but ask, "Ronald, you've worked for Ms. Reed for nine years. How can you show no response at all?" I smile as I walk onto the stage, take off my wedding ring, and toss it to Samuel. "How can you propose without preparing a ring? Here—it's yours."

My best friend, Mia Sullivan, had gone abroad for three years. When she finally came back, she was in tears. She said she had been dumped by a scumbag, was pregnant, and had nowhere to go. I felt terrible for her, so I not only let her move into my house but also asked my husband, Hudson Darby, to take extra care of her. That was until I found a prenatal checkup receipt in the study. The patient was Mia, and the family member who had signed was Hudson. I worried I was jumping to conclusions, so I shoved it back and rushed out the door. After I got downstairs, I realized I had forgotten the files I needed for my meeting, so I headed back up. That was when I saw Hudson and Mia in each other's arms. "What if Charlotte finds out the baby I'm carrying is actually yours?" Mia asked. "Don't worry. Charlotte trusts us so much, there's no way she'll figure it out," Hudson replied. In that moment, the seven years of love I had given him instantly turned into a cruel joke.

After five years of harboring an unrequited love for Lara Lawson, I am physically and emotionally exhausted. So, I marry my childhood friend, Celine Young, instead. To the outside world, Celine and I are the perfect couple. We share a wonderful life together and eventually welcome an adorable baby boy. I regard her as someone who has been by my side my entire life. But one day, I turn on her phone and discover two unsent messages. "If you want, I can divorce him immediately." "You're the only man I'll ever love." As it turns out, what I thought was my salvation is nothing but a cruel joke. I am nothing but a convenient stand-in. And to make matters worse, even my own flesh and blood is on her side. Heartbroken, I cut off contact and walk out of their lives without a trace of hesitation. After I leave them, they begin to panic. "Can you please stay, honey?" "Please don't go, Dad."

On my wedding day, my fiancée's adopted younger brother, Jason Sanders, suddenly stood up to toast us as we were exchanging rings. "The first toast is for my sister. She gave herself to me last night so that I wouldn't feel insecure, making me her first man." After he said that, he kissed my fiancée, ignoring the strange looks from everyone. "The second toast is for my brother-in-law. Don't be fooled by my sister's usual aloof demeanor around you; she's actually very passionate in bed. Even though you're impotent, you've still struck gold." My fiancée, Wendy Sanders, covered his mouth in a hurry and tried to laugh it off. "He’s just rambling because he's drunk. Just ignore him." But Jason broke free from Wendy and looked at me challengingly. "The third toast is for everyone. Since Wendy is getting married today, I would like to personally put the ring on her finger. I'm sure no one has any objections, right?"

My new husband always acted like a child. Before our son turned two, he would grab the boy’s food bowls every single day and refuse to let go. When our son turned four, he had developed an obsession with planting seeds and watering the little garden in our backyard. When our son turned five, I ran into my Christian ex-boyfriend after six years apart at a business event. He looked the same as before and narrowed his eyes at me with cold disdain. “Didn’t we agree never to see each other again after the breakup? “How are you still this pathetic after six years? You chased me all the way here?” In an instant, everyone turned to watch and whispered among themselves, wondering whether I would shamelessly beg him to get back together with me. After all, back then, I had used every trick I had just to win over William. It was how I had managed to get hold of a man who seemed aloof and almost otherworldly. No one knew that every time William slept with me, he would go to church and repent in secret before a photo of his foster sister. He even kicked me out of the Wells family for her sake. He forced me to donate over a quart of blood to his foster sister when I was hospitalized after a miscarriage. From that moment on, my heart was numb. I returned to my hometown and married my devoted husband. I never expected that six years later, I would see him again. William watched me in silence, then pulled an old diamond ring from his pocket and tossed it at my feet. “Pick it up, and put it on. I’ll marry you.”

After setting a date with my online boyfriend to meet in person on New Year's Eve, I prepare a dress that will drive him mad. I also prepare a gift for him. To my surprise, he brings his twin brother with him. That's not all—he's only reserved one hotel room. I laugh when I see the identical faces before me.

This is my 18th time coming to City Hall, yet Tessa's still nowhere to be seen. Right as I'm about to call and ask her how much longer she'll be, her childhood friend's post popped up on my screen. "Celebrating 1000 days of marriage with my wife. May we always be this happy." The photo highlights a marriage certificate, and Tessa Cross' name is right there under "wife". As for the license date, it shows February 14th, three years ago. So this is why she hasn't shown up the last eighteen times. It turns out that she's already somebody else's wife.

For four years, I worked three jobs to support my husband, Edward Godfrey, while he chased his PhD and battled ALS. And somehow, in all that time, I'd never stepped foot on his campus. Not because I didn't want to. Every time I brought it up, he had some excuse ready. When graduation came, I asked to go to his hooding ceremony. He shut it down fast. "It's just a formality. A bunch of lab nerds. You'd be bored. Once I bring the diploma home, we'll have a candlelight dinner." I didn't argue. Just helped him straighten his doctoral gown. But I couldn't hide how excited I was. So I dressed up. And secretly followed him. Onstage, Edward stood beside his wheelchair, voice thick with emotion. "I want to thank my wife. She stood with me in the lab, even while pregnant, helping me grind out countless precious data points." I froze. My hand pressed against my flat stomach. Cold crept down my spine. For four years, I'd busted myself raw to support his PhD. I went from the girl everyone on campus admired to a fish seller, reeking like seafood every day. Worked so hard I miscarried twice. So who exactly was this "wife" he was thanking?

I accidentally wear the gown Miles Graham prepared for his childhood sweetheart. To my horror, he forces me to take it off in public. "I prepared this for Nora—do you think you're worthy of wearing it? Take it off! You're dirtying it!" He knows I have serious PTSD after almost being violated, yet he insults me with those words. I look at him tearfully and beg him not to say anymore. That's when the gown's zip bursts open. My PTSD acts up. I'm so overwhelmed that I collapse on the floor and have a seizure. Miles dismisses everyone and takes Nora out on a date. He leaves me lying there in humiliation. I call my mentor before being discharged from the hospital. "Ms. Gardner, I've decided to participate in the water conservation project in Affenheim."

The day my wife slept with her terminally ill “male best friend” to take his virginity, I left a divorce agreement behind and walked out. Before I left, I commented under their hand-holding photo on Instagram. [Let's get divorced. I wish you and Theo a long and happy life together.] One minute later, she called me. "Logan, how did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you? Can you really let him die without someone to carry on his line?" I sneered and replied that she wasn't my wife anymore, so that wasn't really my problem. She panicked.

I asked my husband for a divorce during the most difficult year of his life. Everyone condemned me, calling me heartless, but I still forced him to sign the divorce papers. Later, he overcame his struggles and rose to become a powerful CEO. I avoided him for two years, believing I’d never cross paths with him again—until he caught me at my most wretched. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he stared at me. In front of everyone, he humiliated me and relentlessly forced me to down a bottle of vodka. I vomited uncontrollably, blood gushing from my mouth in thick streams. He mocked me, telling me it was the retribution I deserved for betraying him. I didn’t argue. I let him torment me. After all, I was already dying. If that made him content, so be it.

After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed. She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him. She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes. Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes. My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly. "See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says. It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion. Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers. And I've already broken up with her. From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.

My boyfriend, Jacob Torrance, claimed he hated being touched. Five years together, and all I got were stiff hand-holds and the rare side-hug. Even in bed, he kept his distance. I figured he was just emotionally shut off. Then he dropped this: he wanted a kid—with his mentor's daughter. "Take it as a sperm donation," he said. "Dr. Lynn asked me before he died. Wendy's got no one else." I smiled. "You don't have to explain. I support you." When you're over someone, there's no point fighting about what's right or wrong.