Historias cortas y novelas de Romance

Five years after our son was born, I finally faced the truth: my wife didn't love me—or our boy. Determined to end this miserable marriage, I made plans to leave and take our son with me. But fate had other ideas. A car accident cost me a kidney and took our son's eye. At my lowest point, my usually distant wife fell to her knees right in the hospital corridor, begging for forgiveness. She swore she would spend the rest of her life taking care of us. We decided to give her one last chance—a 100-day trial. If she made it, we'd stay together. But on the ninety-ninth day, my son and I overheard her talking to the attending physician. "Emma," the doctor said, "did you really arrange that accident to secure organs for Daniel Carter's son? You did that to take a kidney from your husband and an eye from your son—was it worth it?" Emma Evans's voice was eerily calm. "It was worth it. As long as Daniel is happy, I'd do anything." "And what if your husband and son find out?" She fell silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the wedding ring on her hand. "Then they'll never know. They just want a family; I'll do everything I can to make up for it." So the "changed woman" we thought we knew was just an act—a carefully built lie. The happiness my son and I had begun to believe in was nothing more than a story she'd crafted to protect the person she really loved. Every kindness, every effort—it had all been quietly weighed and paid for in advance.

My daughter’s kindergarten held a family event, and I rushed there, only to see her holding hands with my wife’s male secretary. “Daddy,” she said, “I wish our family could stay like this forever.” I watched as the three of them hugged, radiant with happiness. Suddenly, exhaustion washed over me. Later, I filed for divorce. Then I left to teach in rural villages for thirty years. If I couldn’t light the lamp in my own home, I’d at least illuminate the path for others.

My best friend said she was just protecting me from bad men. So every time I started dating someone new, she would turn herself into his dream girl. She'd flirt, chase him, and seduce him until she ended up in his bed. And every time, she'd send me the photos. Always with the same cheerful caption: "Bestie! If I hadn't tested him, you'd be heartbroken again. Aren't I good to you?" I was tortured, broken, humiliated. Eventually, I cut her off completely and moved to another city. Then I met the man I thought was my true love—Liam. He was kind, devoted, and loving. I thought I could finally be happy. On my wedding day, I found Madison standing in my dressing room, disguised as my makeup artist. She smiled at me, just like she used to. "Don't worry, bestie," she whispered. "Let me test this one for you. Then you can marry him." She drugged me, then put on my wedding gown and got into bed with Liam. But I woke up in time. I burst into the room with our families. I caught them together. Later, I got pregnant. During labor, I hemorrhaged. Liam watched me bleed and refused to sign the emergency consent form. "Madison just wanted to give herself to me before our wedding—to fulfill her wish," he said coldly. "You humiliated her. You drove her to suicide. She died carrying my child." "You and the bastard in your belly deserve to die too." That was when I realized—the man I loved had already fallen for my best friend. I died in agony. My ashes were thrown into a ditch. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. On my wedding day. And Madison was standing right in front of me, pretending to be my makeup artist.

In my previous life, I was betrothed to my childhood sweetheart, Zachary York, yet he fell for our junior, Tracy Graham, and planned to elope with her. I told his parents of their plan and asked for canceling our engagement. Yet, under their "persuasion", I lay with Zachary while he was unconscious from the drug's effects. That very night, Tracy, who had waited for him at the station, was murdered by a vagrant. I thought Zachary would rage against me. However, he merely said everyone was tied to their own destiny. He even proposed marriage to me at once. I was ecstatic, but on the night I had longed for most, he shoved me into a room filled with men. I begged him desperately to let me go, but his face twisted with hatred. "You should taste the suffering that Trace endured. If not for your jealousy, she would be my bride now!" In the end, I was brutalized to death. Because of Zachary, I was marked as the vilest woman in Riveria, denied even a shred of honor after death. Reborn, I wake to find myself on the very day of their planned elopement. This time, I'm not exposing their plan to elope. I'll even lend them a helping hand.

On our wedding day, the big screen glitched—then flipped to kissing shots of Caleb Gorman and his "girl best friend," Holly Beech. Holly shot up, hand over her mouth, smiling all fake-innocent. "Relax, everyone. We were just messing around. Caleb and I go way back. Guess that makes me wife number two." Caleb smiled, soft like always. "That's just her. She's a total blabbermouth. Don't take it seriously." I looked at him. Calm. "She plays kissing pics of you two at our wedding and calls herself your 'wife number two.' That's messing around?" His face tightened. Annoyed. "It's a few photos. We've been together five years. You're really gonna nitpick something this small and not let it—" I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Yeah. I am. I'm not letting it go." That hit him. He wasn't used to me standing firm. I turned to the crowd. "This wedding's over."

By the time I got home from my business trip, it was already past midnight—and my husband wasn't there. A woman's blouse lay on the sofa. It wasn't mine. I called him. He said he was working late at the office. I didn't bother with pretense. "Whose blouse is on the sofa?" His tone was light and casual. "Who else would it be? It's obviously a gift for you. Try it on." Suspicious, I picked it up and held it against myself. The blouse was clearly one size too small. "Honey, this is a size S. I always wear M." My husband owns a clothing company. He handles all my clothes. He's even used my measurements to design women's wear. There's no way he doesn't know my size. On the phone, he froze for half a second, then spoke as if piecing something together. "This is a new women's line I'm launching. I ordered custom pieces for you and my sister. I must've grabbed the wrong one. I'll switch it tomorrow." A moment later, his voice softened with exhaustion. "Babe, you've been gone for days. Without you, I feel so tired… I miss you so much…" It was already late into the night. Hearing him sound vulnerable—something he rarely did—made my chest tighten. I blamed myself for overthinking. But the moment I hung up, realization struck. His sister has the same build as me. She always wears size M.

Five years ago, Gary Cooper proposed to me 99 times just to marry me. Five years later, to cheer up the secretary he adored, he handed me 99 divorce papers. "Relax. I'm not actually divorcing you. I'm just humoring her. Just pretend like you always do. There's no need to sign." When Gary said it, he was even smiling. As for me, the heartbreak I once felt had long since faded. Now, there was barely a ripple left. I suddenly remembered what day it was and asked quietly, "Will you be home for dinner tonight?" He paused for a moment, then casually shook his head. "Probably not. Today's kind of special. I don't want her to get jealous." I nodded and watched him walk out the door. Then, I picked up a pen and carefully signed my name on the 99th divorce agreement.

My wife doesn't love me. She doesn't love our child either. On the day our son is born, she doesn't even look at him. She just drops him into my arms. Later, her first love returns. For the first time, the cold, distant woman drinks herself drunk at home. She laughs as she holds our son in her arms, and he wraps his arms around her neck in surprise. "Daddy, what's wrong with Ms. Sutton?" he whispers afterward. I kneel and hold him close. My eyes are red as I explain, "Someone Ms. Sutton loves has come back. We shouldn't bother her anymore. It's time for us to move out."

My husband has slept around thousands of times, yet he has never agreed to a divorce. His family calls me a low-class nobody who's unfit to be seen. Five years ago, the first time I asked for a divorce, Hugo Hudson said nothing. He simply locked me inside the villa for a full month. A month later, I discovered I was pregnant. Three years ago, I brought it up again. That very night, Hugo returned to his family's estate. Soon after, I was granted the right to see my child once a week. Today is the third time. And this time, I can finally leave. Because I've realized something at last: my child doesn't love me, and my marriage was never real to begin with. I'm no different from the women he keeps outside. When we met again later, Hugo's eyes reddened the instant he saw me.

At the dinner celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary, I held the pregnancy test report in my pocket, planning to surprise my CEO husband. However, the moment the doors opened, I froze. A stunning woman stood there with her arm intimately linked through my husband's. She clung to Charles Lawrence with the ease and confidence of someone who clearly belonged at his side, carrying herself like the lady of the house. Neither Charles nor the guests found it strange. If anything, they seemed entertained. Someone even joked, "Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Cooper aren't just ideal partners at work. Their chemistry is something to admire as well. I've personally reserved the presidential suite at Jubilee City's finest resort for Mr. Lawrence tonight. You can be sure no one will disturb you." Fiona blushed and slipped shyly into Charles's arms. He lowered his head and kissed her hard. They fit together so naturally, so intimately, that the sight was unbearably glaring. My thoughts flashed back to the night before, when Charles had pressed me into the bed. In that moment, I had caught sight of a strange message sent by someone named Fiona: [Everyone in the company thinks we've slept together.] Charles had explained that Fiona was only his assistant, a forty-year-old woman, and that the message was nothing more than a punishment from a lost game, a foolish dare. That explanation had dissolved my suspicion and anger. Then, I finally saw the truth. I was the one who had lost everything. Inside my pocket, the pregnancy report was crushed into a tight ball. I forced the tears back, stepped away, and opened the invitation from the National Aerospace Research Institute on my phone. Without hesitation, I tapped Accept. Three days later, I would vanish completely from Charles's world.

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.

My cousin, Erin Johnson, is passionate about testing my boyfriends. Although I keep turning her offer down, she keeps insisting on doing so for me. Once she successfully seduces a boyfriend of mine, she'll dump him instantly. Then, she'll announce in our family's group chat that said boyfriend isn't a good match for me. When Erin does the same thing once again, she doesn't realize that she's stepping into a trap I've specifically set up for her. There's no way she won't step into it.

To help my fiance pay off his gambling debts, my father and I worked day and night hauling freight. One night, while driving through the dark, my father got into a car accident. When I rushed to the hospital with the compensation money, all that remained was the final voice message on his phone. "This should be enough to clear Derrick's debts. He really wants to live a good life with you, but it's just that his ex-girlfriend keeps pestering him. Once you pay his debt, take him far away from those people." Holding my father's memorial portrait, I planned to place the five hundred thousand he had earned in front of Derrick. But when I arrived at a private club lounge, I overheard his friends laughing. "Did she actually believe you were drowning in debt? She brought over that much money in one go. What are you going to do next?" Derrick's ex-girlfriend, Jessica Nesley, laughed and chimed in, "Derrick, don't you think the fake debt collectors I hired were pretty convincing? What's next? Are you going to test whether she really wants a future with you?" Derrick flicked ash from his cigarette and replied, "Yeah. The final test is to see whether she's the kind of woman who only cares about money. If she finds out I'm the president of Waterson Group, doesn't resent me for setting up her father, and still agrees to marry me, then I'll believe she truly loves me." Hearing those words, I stared at my father's photo while my whole body trembled. 'Father, this was the honest man we both trusted. Derrick, this wedding is over.'

At our tenth engagement party, my girlfriend crushed my heart again, leaving my proposal ring dangling in the air. She had been chasing the ghost of her first love, and I was done being her fallback guy. When I finally opened my heart to someone new, she realized what she'd lost. Ten years together, ten engagement parties, and still, she wouldn't take my ring. Every time we reached the moment to exchange vows, she'd stare at the door, waiting for that man to swoop in and rescue her. She swore she'd only marry me if he crashed the party, claiming it would prove she'd truly chosen me. This time, I couldn't hold back. "If he never shows, are you just gonna keep stringing me along forever?" She shot back, "He still loves me. He'll show up to stop this. Besides, we've been together a decade. Does a ring even matter at this point?"

The day Ken Bowen and I finalized the divorce, I walked out wearing only the outfit I had worn on our wedding day. I let Ken keep the house, the cars, the money, and the kids. He looked genuinely surprised, then let out a mocking laugh. "Are you sure about this? You raised the girls yourself, and you're just giving them up? If you really don't want anything, then you won't need to pay child support either. That's fair, right?" I signed the papers without hesitation and said calmly, "Yeah. That's fair." Ken paused, then slowly signed his name. "If you regret this later, you…" I lifted a hand and cut him off. I didn't look back as I walked out. Ken used to say I married him for money and status, that I used our three daughters to tie him down. Whatever. The day he saw my dead body, he would finally understand.

After my wife, Princess Keisha Peyton, spent a reckless night with her adopted brother, I chose to abandon her and our child and return to my original world. But the next year, the system suddenly came to find me. [Host... could you go back for a while? The target has been trying to break through dimensions to find you. And your child... he's also a bit mentally unstable...] I looked down at the cancer diagnosis I had just received and sighed. "Fine. I'll go back." When I returned, I became the perfect prince consort. I no longer demanded monogamy. Instead, I even started actively selecting male companions to bring into Keisha's household. I also dismissed the tutors who had been pushing my son to study, allowing him to join the military camps while he was still young. I rarely went out and kept the princess's estate running flawlessly. But when Keisha saw all this, she went crazy—smashing every ornament in the room. "I already sent Gregory away," she said. "What are you trying to do, tormenting me like this?" Our son, Thomas Peyton, stood there tearfully. "I'll never say again that Mother can have many male companions because she's a princess. And I'll never mention Gregory again either. Father, please stop making a scene, okay?"

The day my boyfriend, Lucian Farrell, and I, Roxanne Schmidt, decide to register our marriage, the million-dollar diamond ring he'd promised me turns into a can tab. So, I broke things up with him on the spot. In a panic, Lucian fishes out the purchase receipt. "I just forgot to bring the ring. If it bothers you, I can go home and get it right now," he coaxes. My gaze lands on the figure hurrying toward both of us. "There's no need for that. Your 'little shadow' has already brought it over for you," I replied indifferently. Evelyn Wiley rushes up before me with tears in her eyes. A large diamond ring is wedged tightly around her swollen ring finger. "I just wanted to help Ms. Schmidt try the size. But it wouldn't come off no matter how hard I tried…" she explains between sobs. Lucian's face darkens instantly. "Who said you could touch it? The ring was meant for Roxanne!" he snaps. He wrenches at the ring, but it doesn't budge at the slightest. I watch the commotion before me with my arms folded. All of a sudden, a laugh escapes me. "It's simple. If it won't come off, then we can just cut her finger off."

After Princess Winona Green abandons me at the border's military camp for five years, she finally remembers my existence and decides to bring me home. When a dozen or so carriages that are laden with wedding gifts arrive at the military camp, Winona's expression is filled with unbridled smugness. "I did tell you that once I gave birth to Shane's child, I'd marry you, Gideon. See? I didn't lie to you at all. Today, I've personally come to the border just to pick you up." Then, Winona approaches me haughtily. "Shane might be a musician, but I've already sired the oldest child with him. It's only reasonable for him to be made an equal consort, just like you, the son of an official." I merely frown without saying anything. All I do is look at Winona. She lets out a sigh before walking toward me again. "I know that you've been hopelessly waiting for me for the past five years, Gideon. That's why I traveled all the way to this barren wasteland just to prove my sincerity to you. In half a month, we shall get married." The sight of Winona immersed in her own fantasy of fake devotion makes me chuckle coldly. "Seize them!" How dare Winona make me, the general of the border, fight with a mere musician over her affections! Does she really think that my blade is just a decoration?

The next time I asked Evelyn Bennett for a divorce, she still had not fully come down from her climax. Her hand was resting on the man's lean waist as she said, "Julian, do you think his V-lines are perfect? Especially when he's turned on and they move. It's completely irresistible." After saying that, she waited for me to react the way I always had before. She expected another hysterical outburst. But it was as if I had not heard a word. I simply flipped the divorce papers to the section on asset division. "Everything you've ever given me, I'll return. I'll leave on my own." Evelyn paused for a moment, then spoke as if nothing had happened. "Then can you give me back the heart I gave you, too? Stop being difficult, babe. You know you're the only one I've ever loved. Be good and go home. Wait for me there." I ignored her words and stubbornly held out the divorce agreement. Her heart was something I had stopped wanting a long time ago. The only thing I wanted now was freedom.

My CEO boyfriend had threatened to break up with me 99 times. So when he found out I willingly handed a multimillion-dollar contract to his junior protégée, freshly returned from studying abroad, he assumed I had finally caved. He was so pleased that he proposed we get engaged. But the moment she caught wind of it, she lost it. She skipped the contract signing, stopped showing up to work, and threatened to resign. My boyfriend, who had always doted on her, completely panicked. He promoted her on the spot, then used a business trip as an excuse to cancel our engagement plans and flew to another city to throw her a lavish engagement ceremony instead. When he came back, he brushed it off like it was nothing. "It was just a ceremony. It's not like we're actually married. Why are you being so dramatic about it? "Anya's a top-tier talent with an overseas education. I did this for the company, for our future. You're going to be my wife, so I'd think you of all people would understand." I gripped my phone, staring at the photo she had just posted online. Two matching engagement rings sat front and center, his and hers. I did not argue. I just nodded. He lit up, convinced I had finally come around. He promised to throw me an even bigger ceremony once he was back from his trip. What he did not know was that I had already submitted my resignation. The moment he agreed to hold an engagement ceremony with another woman, I was done.