Short Romance Stories & Novels

I built my wife’s family business from the ground up, sacrificing everything so that her world could thrive. The night I collapsed from stomach bleeding after too many business drinks, she was out laughing with her childhood sweetheart. She even had the nerve to call me dull and uptight. I smiled when I finally handed her the divorce papers. “I wish you both a happy life together.” But instead of signing it, she tore it to pieces, tears in her eyes. “I’m not letting you go,” she said.

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.

Amanda Gordon, my girlfriend, could never get quantities right. She always purchased one extra of everything. On our dates, she always ordered for three. “Oops, I ordered too much. Why don’t we invite Kevin too?” On my birthday, she bought two gifts. “Oops, I bought one too many. Why don’t we give it to Kevin?” After a while, I grew used to it and simply accepted that as my new normal. On the day of our wedding attire fitting, Amanda suddenly reached out and stopped me. “Leigh, the suit I designed for you is over there. This one is for the best man. I had it made for Kevin.” I looked up at the best man’s suit in front of me. It was sharply tailored, with clean, structured lines and tiny silver crystals set into the collar. The groom’s suit she had left for me, meanwhile, was plain, wrinkled, and stained. I finally decided to leave her at that moment. She had given the only bespoke suit she could commission to Kevin Burg. There was nothing left in this relationship worth holding on to. I quietly looked at my phone and sent a message to my former professor, Lawrence Hindle, who lived far away in Westmere. [Dr. Hindle, does your institute still have an opening for me?]

My fiancé goes missing after a grand and lavish engagement party. He leaves nothing but a letter behind. It states that his childhood sweetheart has a terminal illness—her only wish is to see the aurora. On the day he returns to the country, I visit him, wanting to call off the engagement. Ivana Jennings stands beside Jacob Gardner and weeps. "I'm sorry for putting you two in a tough spot, Ariel. I'll leave now. I'll never disturb you anymore!" Jacob stops her and shields her behind him. He looks at me frostily. "I'll kill you if you dare do anything to Ivana!" I sneer. "I don't deal with just about anyone for two reasons. Firstly, I don't want to dirty my hands. Secondly, I don't want to deal with rabid dogs."

On the first night of our graduation trip, the class representative, Gordon Perkins, suggests that we draw lots in order to get our rooms assigned to us. "Let fate decide the pairs who get to stay in the same room as long as they have the same number, regardless of their gender! Imagine how exciting this is!" Throughout my four-year college life, Ivan Decker and I have been in a relationship for three of those years. No one knows about our relationship, though. I pull out a ball from the box and await my partner. When it's Ivan's turn, he draws out a ball with the number seven. Gordon raises his voice immediately. "The other lucky person who gets to stay in room seven is… Rebecca Benson!" Rebecca, the young woman whom Ivan has pursued in a high-profile manner in the past, goes bright red. Everyone cheers on them right away, claiming that Lady Fate really wants them to be together. But I'm the only one who stays silent. No one knows that I've heard Gordon secretly tell Ivan something before it's time to draw lots. "Look for the ball with the raised dot. I specially saved those ones for you and Rebecca." As I look at Ivan, who walks over to Rebecca and picks up her suitcase for her with a soft smile, I find myself smiling as well. It turns out that Ivan never plans on making our relationship official despite having waited for him for three years. This time, I decide to be the one who leaves first.

For the sake of her secretary, who was supposedly battling cancer, my wife, Sofia Griffin, made a shocking proposal. She would pay ten million for taking his virginity as an attempt to help him raise the funds needed. I had barely opened my mouth to object when she cut me down with a sharp rebuke. She said, "Chris has always been a proud man. Just giving him the money would seem like a handout and hurt his pride. "Can't you try to be compassionate? Do you really have to be jealous over something this small?" I said nothing. I simply smiled and nodded. What she didn't know was that, as an infectious disease specialist, I had already recognized the signs. It wasn't cancer... It was late-stage AIDS.

I miscarry after happening upon my husband, Xavier Leeson, being intimate with someone else. He kneels before me and explains that his loyalty toward me has never swayed. I look at the man who's loved me for nine years and waited for me for five years. Ultimately, I still choose to believe him. After an arduous process of trying to conceive another child, I finally get pregnant again. That's when I accidentally overhear him complaining to his colleagues. "The thought of her being with her ex for five years makes me think that even the children she has are dirty." It shall be as he wishes, then. When he performs his next abortion, he's abhorred when he learns I'm the one he's operating on.

I've spent the day trying on bridal gowns with my fiance, Philip Dillon. Just as I'm about to pay for the wedding gown that I really want, another woman suddenly snatches it out of my hands. "Sorry, but I had my sights set on this gown first!" I frown instantly at her words. That's when one of my friends suddenly pats me on the shoulder before murmuring to me, "Hang on. Let your fiance deal with this situation. He already placed an order on this wedding gown when it was first released, so he must be specifically waiting for you to come here and pick it out." I turn to look at Philip instinctively. As expected, I see him approaching the woman… only to help her stuff the gown's hem, which is sticking out, back into the gown's bag. "Since someone else has already set her sights on the gown, then I suppose we don't have any other choice." Philip then pinches me on the cheek, the smile on his face tender yet casual. "My Elyse is the most gracious woman I've ever known. It's not like this is the one and only gown for you, right?" I just stare at the woman's smug look, feeling very dazed. Instead of responding to Philip, I just shoot a small smile at my friend, who looked pretty awkward on my behalf. "It's fine. I don't want the wedding gown anymore." It's true that the gown isn't the one and only gown for me. Similarly, it's not like Philip is the one and only man for me in life as well.

To save my father-in-law, I donated a kidney—but on the very day I was discharged, she didn't hesitate for a second to shove me into the guest room. "Those centipede-like scars are disgusting. Don't show yourself to me again!" In the dead of night, my wound tore open. I collapsed into a pool of blood, dialing her number 100 times, desperate for help. She hung up every single time. Meanwhile, the master bedroom echoed with Theo Reynold's low, passionate growls. In that instant, every ounce of strength drained from me. When I was admitted to the hospital, I held the military medal my mother had left me on her deathbed. That was when I remembered the woman even the mayor bowed to when she walked into a room. Without thinking, I dialed the long-forgotten number. "Commander Jennings, you once said you owed my mother a debt of gratitude. Now… I want you to marry me."

After giving me the cold shoulder for a month, Jules Anderson voluntarily handed me two VIP wristbands for Coachella and invited me to attend it on our wedding anniversary. I was dressed to the nines that day, but he never appeared, even after admissions started. Then, once I was about to enter, I realized that the wristbands in my bag were gone. At that moment, Jules' childhood sweetheart, Maddie Washington, updated her social media. In the photo, Jules was solemnly holding a pink cotton candy, completely different from his usual cold and aloof demeanor. The caption read: [Finally seeing Domi Dora. Thank you to the person who always responds to my every request.] Looking at the empty compartment in my bag, I suddenly understood everything. In the past, I would have had a big argument with Jules and forced him to give me an explanation. Now, I just felt relieved. It had been five years. I accumulated so many disappointments that I was drained.

My neighbor abandoned her cat, so I took it in. It never warmed up to me, but never stopped meowing at my husband. I grew suspicious. One night, my husband claimed to be working late. I knocked on the neighbor’s door. She stroked her slightly rounded belly. “Ms. Hill, what brings you here so late?” Her eyes gleamed with defiance and smugness. Something clicked. I understood everything. When my husband crept home at dawn, he found both sets of parents waiting. A divorce agreement lay on the coffee table.

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.

Even though it's been three years since we held our weddings, Adrian Johnson refuses to get our marriage registered. I overhear him venting to his best friend after he gets drunk. "Colleen got kidnapped before. I keep thinking of her as a tainted woman. Plus, her family has already gone into bankruptcy. She has no idea that my company is about to get listed." I feel my blood turn into ice in my veins. His confession leaves my feet rooted to the spot. Then, Adrian pulls a woman into his arms before kissing her belly. That woman is Rosalind Muller, the young and beautiful bar singer. I'm still dazed when I receive a text on my phone. It's a photo of Rosalind's pregnancy bump. The caption writes, "You're just a tainted woman. How can you ever compare to me?" What Adrian doesn't know is that I never got kidnapped three years ago. At that time, I had carried out a top-secret rescue mission as a secret agent. Soon, I text my dad. "Dad, where's your island? Can you send a helicopter over to pick me up?" On the day I leave Adrian once and for all, it's time for my mysterious identity and the truth from three years ago to be revealed.

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.

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

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."

Despite being married for five years, Nicholas Shaffer and Karina Fleming have never registered their marriage officially. Nicholas keeps telling Karina that he's too caught up with work, so he can't squeeze out any time from his busy schedule. He also claims that a marriage certificate is optional. Unfortunately, Karina believes his lies. But everything ends today when she witnesses Nicholas and her older sister, Rowena Fleming, who has gone missing for five years, emerging from the city hall together after they have registered their marriage. With red-rimmed eyes, Rowena rushes into Nicholas' arms, her marriage certificate still clutched in her hand. "It was my fault for abandoning you at the altar back then, Nicholas," she says in a choked-up tone. "I know you only agreed to register our marriage because of my cancer. But I still want to ask you a question… "Have you truly forgotten about me and fallen in love with Karina after all these years?"

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.