Short Romance Stories & Novels

On the day after my twin brother, Jonathan Sander's death, I've married Natania Gilmore, my widowed sister-in-law. That day, Natania prints a thousand copies of Jonathan's death report and announces to the world that I'm the actual killer. Because of that, everyone despises me. Even my parents sever all ties with me on the spot. After our marriage, Natania keeps getting into romantic scandals. She's also brought countless men home with her. She makes me stand outside her room while listening to their debauchery every time. I'm also required to take photos of her and her boytoy with my camera once they are done with their lovemaking. I can only stomach everything quietly. My only plea is that I get to have a child with Natania. But Natania just scoffs at me. "Just how much of a filthy wuss are you, Leon Sander? If you need a woman's touch that badly, go ahead and find yourself another woman out there. Doesn't the idea of kneeling by my feet while begging for my touch like a mutt disgust you? "What, you really think having a child with me can tie me down? I'll have you know that I will never settle down with you for the rest of my life!" In order to shatter my hopes, Natania even goes out of her way to be cruel to me by spending a fortune on building a horse ranch. Each horse stable is taken up by her lovers. Even the people in the elite society claim, "The group of stallions that Natania keeps in her stables are a lot better than the simping mutt who wags his tail at her at home." Three years later, my mother-in-law, Wendy Gilmore, suddenly texts me a reminder. "Remember our promise, Leon. Three years are up. You have one more week to tie up all the knots in your life."

After encountering problems at work, I lose myself in a virtual reality game. I randomly meet a male player in there and depend on my amorous interactions with him to escape reaity. We flirt with each other and have roleplay; he grunts and groans over the microphone. Everything changes when I accidentally reveal my true identity. The young man next door pins me underneath him and roams his hands over my body. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. "You were great at flirting in the game, weren't you? Why can't you make those noises now?"

By the fifth year Dylan Crewe dropped me on a remote island, I finally learned submission. He brought his sugar baby, a college student, along with a Doberman to pick me up. I sank to my knees, wiped the sand off his leather shoes with my sleeve, and bent my back as a step for them. “Your duty from here on out is to take care of Tammy Bates. She and the Doberman are your family now.” I complied with his demand with a smile. Dylan took over my family’s empire, pushed my parents to the depths of despair until they jumped to their deaths, while I was abandoned in the middle of nowhere to break me. He succeeded in his venture. Back in the familiar manor, I couldn’t recognize the place I once called home. My alarm clock rang at 4 o’clock every morning, as my day would start with a special diet for Dobie and its grooming session. At nine o’clock, I would lay out Tammy’s outfit for the day and be her literal punching bag at the gym. I would have the drinks and food ready for Tammy’s friends in the evening, as she kidded around with her friends about how she tamed the once proud, notoriously spoiled heiress of Hedgewood’s high society.

Everyone knows that I'm the woman whom Oliver Reed, the richest man in Jeston, loves the most. Ever since I get pregnant, Oliver dotes on me even more and obeys every whim I have. One day, I realize that I've gotten kidnapped to an auction house after waking up from my nap. To my horror, my husband and his friend group can be seen sitting beneath the stage. Someone says with a grin, "Hey Oliver, how is it that you have time to bring Caroline to the hangout with you today? Everyone keeps claiming that Alexandra has you wrapped around her little finger now that she's pregnant." Oliver looks at the woman next to him. While he looks relatively exasperated, he still says dotingly, "I've been spending so much time with Alexandra that Caroline is already mad at me. Today, I managed to block out some time in my schedule to spend time with her." I do my best to squirm and struggle so that I can seek help from Oliver. Finally, I'm able to attract his attention. But he slowly lifts his bidding card while saying, "Number 7 keeps squirming, so she must be a slutty one. Here's one million dollars—I want her to be on the stage."

Six years after marrying Rhiannon Westley, she takes a lover. He's like a puppy—timid and clingy. He flinches at the slightest raised voice, so Rhiannon never loses her temper in front of him. But when he acts up in front of me, Rhiannon snaps. She's furious, and she gives him a harsh scolding. The next day, he sends me a photo of his neck covered in red marks. "Zane, Ms. Westley is so fierce..."

In Hollow Creek, there was an old custom: if you turned thirty and still were not married, the community chair would arrange for you to come home and meet potential matches. When I told Marcus about it, he laughed coldly. “What kind of backwoods tradition is that supposed to be? “Constance, I said I would marry you, and I will. But pressuring me is something else.” Then he took out the ring and casually handed it to Hannah. She accepted it with a blush. “I was going to propose,” he said. “But since you want to act like this, maybe we should cool off for a while.” The ring I had waited years for was handed to someone else like it meant nothing. For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Marcus walked out of my office with an easy confidence, the corner of his mouth lifted in a victorious smile. Hannah held the ring out to me. I did not take it. “Keep it,” I said. “Wasn’t it meant for you anyway? “You wear it. It suits you.” Her face went pale. I showed her to the door. Before closing it, I said, “Tell Mr. Vale that he and I are done.”

When Tristan Pierce falls in love with the 99th woman he's met online, I heave a mental sigh of relief. He gazes at me as he passes a divorce agreement to me. "Serena, I'm sorry for falling for someone else. She makes me feel something that you've never made me feel before." I just stare at him with teary eyes as I utter the same old words any phony will say. "I'm the one who failed to take care of you. I'll be fine as long as you're happy." Having noticed how pitiful I look, Tristan transfers 50 million dollars into my account at once. When I notice the automated text sent from my bank regarding the transaction that I've just received, I do my best to suppress my smile. After all, this is my 99th fake identity. The three-year contract that I've signed with Tristan's older brother, Graham Pierce, is coming to an end. Finally, my loveless relationship with Tristan shall come to an end.

My husband, Malcolm Thorpe, has low sperm motility. After 33 rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. On delivery day, I start hemorrhaging, and the medical team calls for an emergency C-section. Malcolm signs the consent form, then rushes straight back to his childhood sweetheart's birthday party. But instead of starting the C-section, the surgeon says, "Ms. Jacobson, the electronic medical record lists you as single. This consent form isn't valid." I stop breathing for a beat. The happy marriage I believe in turns out to be a sham. Later, Mom and Dad rush in and sign the consent for me. But by then, the baby is gone. The asphyxia lasted too long. After surgery, I scrawl my name on the cremation consent with shaking hands, then dial a number without thinking. "Samuel, are you free now? Meet me in front of City Hall."

I had been secretly married to Vivian Grant, my CEO wife, for six years, yet she never once let our son call her Mom. After she missed his birthday again because of her male assistant, I finally put the divorce papers in front of her and walked away for good with our son. The woman who had always seemed so controlled finally fell apart. She stormed into the office demanding to know where I’d gone. But this time, neither my son nor I were coming back.

After Charlene Downing's family goes into bankruptcy, I move into a basement with her. I have to work three jobs per day in order to help her rebuild her career. When Charlene finally succeeds in her career, she vows to give me a real home. On our third year of marriage, I accidentally notice the property deed of our marital home. The owner of this deed appears to be Charlene's first love, Travis Roach. With red-rimmed eyes, Charlene explains to me, "I owe him this much." I nod in return before pushing a pile of photos in her direction. These are photos of the I.O.U notes from back when we stayed in the basement. "You've already used our home to pay Travis back for what you owe him. Then what about the sum you owe me?"

The day I was released from prison was New Year's Eve. My fiancée had promised to pick me up. Instead, she was busy ringing in the New Year with the man she had always loved. By the time I found my way back home from memory, she was in the middle of a cheering crowd, wrapped in his arms. "Nancy, Samuel's getting out today. Aren't you going to pick him up?" someone asked. Nancy Wheeler let out a soft laugh, her red lips curling slightly. "Pick him up? What's more important, him or New Year's? He's been in there for years. One more day won't kill him." "Aren't you afraid he'll be angry?" Colder than the wind and snow outside were Nancy's indifferent words. "He's the one who made a mistake. What right does he have to be angry? The fact that I was still willing to be with him was already a mercy." As the words left her mouth, she lifted her gaze, only to meet mine. The smile froze on her face. The cold light from inside fell across me, and something in my heart froze with it. She said she was still willing to have me. However, I no longer wanted her.

My husband, Ronan Kade, and his best friend, Brynn Halcyon, were far too intimate for my liking. At a celebration party, Brynn openly bragged that he was so obedient that he did whatever she asked. When I accused her of not having boundaries, Ronan defended her at every turn and accused me of overreacting. The moment I turned and walked away, he was driven mad with regret.

The day Bryson—the Harding heir—chose Talia Connell, the Connells' real daughter, I found out I was pregnant. For seven months, he went all out planning her dream wedding. Meanwhile, I fought through a brutal delivery and almost bled out bringing Kyle into the world. Then a breaking alert hit— [Harding Heir in Late-Night Street Racing Crash: Wife Critically Injured, Bryson Harding Permanently Loses Fertility] Scared he'd take Kyle from me, I stayed hidden for five years. Then came Bryson's mom's birthday banquet. I got pulled in as a server. Kyle was waiting in the lounge—until he bolted out and slammed straight into her. The whole room went dead quiet. Kyle looked just like Bryson as a kid. No question. Bryson shoved through the crowd, voice rough. "Kid... who are your parents?" Kyle froze, then broke down. "Mommy... I can't find Mommy. Her name is Joanna."

After five years together, my fiancée Selene—a surgeon—canceled our wedding forty-nine times. The first time, she was in the middle of makeup when Kaelen, her male intern, messed up a patient’s chart. She rushed back to the hospital and left me waiting at the altar all day. The second time, just as we were about to exchange rings, she heard Kaelen was being bullied by another doctor. She went back to rescue him. I stayed behind, facing a roomful of smirking guests. After that, every time I tried to reschedule, that intern had some new emergency. Always needed her. Always right when the wedding was supposed to happen. I finally decided to end it. The day I left New York, she searched for me like a madwoman. But I was already gone.

I had a unique profession. I was a breakup specialist. I did not need to go to court or write any contracts for that. That was a lawyer’s job. Everyone kept saying that love was priceless, but a couple who professed their love to each other for an entire night could be paying me tons to break their relationship up the following day. I was shaking my head upon those matters when I received a message from my husband, Matthew Grant, asking me to pick our wedding anniversary’s destination. A few seconds after that, a beautiful woman walked into my office. She appeared timid and had to take a lot of time to summon the courage to speak. “I’d like to hire your services for my boyfriend. He has decided to divorce his wife.” I made no comment as I picked up the documents she had handed me, only to see Matthew’s name on the paper. I froze, while the woman sitting in front of me ducked her head and continued, “My boyfriend says that his wife is a good person and that he doesn’t want to hurt her.” I smiled as I stared at the picture; it clearly was Matthew, but I had the strange feeling of seeing a foreign person too. My heart throbbed, and I could only lament. This was my third year as a breakup specialist, and I was actually hired to break up my own relationship.

After fifteen years of marriage, my wife, Tiffany Yarwood, who insisted on being child-free, wanted to become pregnant with her childhood friend’s baby. “Taylor’s grandmother is dying. Her only remaining wish was for him to have an offspring. I have to help him with this!” Unable to accept this, I went to my parents-in-law to reason with them. But they snubbed me with gentle yet cutting words. “Tiff’s womb belongs to her. She has the right to decide whose child to bear. “Don’t you love her enough to give your life to her? If you can’t even tolerate such a small matter, how can you protect her for a lifetime?” Tormented by grief, I had no choice but to compromise with teary eyes. “Fine! I agree to let you have a test-tube baby for him. But after giving birth to the baby, you can’t have any further involvement with them.” Tiffany, relying on my love for her, confidently refused. “Not a test-tube baby! Taylor’s grandma is traditional. She’ll only accept babies born naturally. “Besides, I will be taking care of the child after giving birth. I can’t let the baby grow up without a mother!” I closed my eyes and exhaled. “If that’s the case, let’s divorce. You can live with him as a family of three.”

My sister Emily and I were both given a Destiny System, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to change our futures. In our first life, Emily chose the Beauty System. She thought beauty would make every powerful man fall at her feet. Instead, it only made her a pretty toy for rich heirs to admire and discard. When she failed to earn genuine love before the deadline, the system took everything back. Her beauty vanished, her admirers disappeared, and she ended up broke, abandoned, and bitter. I chose the Elite Athlete System. I trained until my body nearly broke, became America’s youngest Olympic champion, shattered records, and built a legendary career. Fame, fortune, and success were all mine. Even Ethan Walker, the heir to one of the country’s most powerful old-money families, chased after me. Emily hated me for it. So she rammed her car into mine and killed me. When I opened my eyes again, we were both sixteen, standing before the Destiny System on the very day we first made our choices. This time, Emily shouted before I could speak. “I choose the Elite Athlete System!” She looked at me with a smug smile. “Olivia, this time I’ll be the one everyone admires.” I looked at the Beauty System now drifting toward me and smiled. Emily thought she had stolen my golden future. She had no idea that every gift fate offers comes with a price.

I suspected my husband's young assistant had signed up for some kind of socialite training program, all so she could try to become his mistress. She didn't call him "Mr. Anderson." She called him "Cocoa" because he loved drinking mocha lattes. It was her way of making herself seem special. Whenever he assigned her work, she didn't even move. She would just throw him a flirtatious look, twist her body into some exaggerated pose, and say, "What, you need me?" with a pout. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I told Perry Anderson to fire her. The second I said it, Faye Dawson leaned right into his ear and whined, "I know, I messed up. Don't be mad. I'll give you a kiss and make it better, okay?" And somehow, Perry actually fell for it. He smoothed things over like it was nothing. "Honey, Faye's a socialite. That's just how she is. Try to be a little more understanding." Fine. If he wanted to protect that fake socialite and throw away the real one, then he could forget about the billion-dollar contract from my father.

I've been engaged to my boyfriend, Evan Shaw, for five years. He's a military commander, which is probably why he has delayed our wedding 56 times so far. The first delay has occurred because one of his female soldiers, Chloe Brooks, has gotten injured. Evan needs to rush back to the military camp due to the incident, which causes the wedding to be delayed. The second delay has occurred because Chloe has received a promotion. After sending me to the church's entrance, Evan quickly leaves with the celebratory gifts. … The 56th delay has occurred halfway throughout the ceremony. Apparently, Chloe has called Evans on the phone and crying about her break-up. Of course, Evan gets ready to ditch me at the altar without hesitation. I've begged him to not leave me, only for him to remove my hand coldly. "We can always delay the wedding. The thing is, Chloe wants to jump off a building right now because she's gotten her heart broken. How could you ever compare the importance of your wedding to the life of a nation's pride?" Evan has told me before that if I want to become a military wife, I need to have a higher endurance limit than others. I need to get used to the fact that he prioritizes others before me. But I've never even had a proper wedding of my own. How can I be considered a military wife just yet? So, I submit an application that makes me a covert operative that needs to be transferred back into the government's ranks. But after I've left, Evan breaks down in tears. With the wedding ring in hand, he tries to make it up to me by promising to complete the unfinished wedding ceremony with me.

The day I won the championship in the pro gaming league, my girlfriend, Nina Vale, said she was coming to bring me flowers. Standing on the awards stage, I pulled the ring from my pocket, thrilled and ready to propose to her in front of everyone. However, instead of handing the bouquet to me, she turned and placed the flowers into the hands of her childhood friend, Rowan Cross, who was standing beside me. The pairing of a handsome man and a beautiful woman sent countless fans across the internet into a frenzy, enthusiastically shipping them together and congratulating them. Rowan’s fans tagged me and mocked, "Classic simp. Seven years of licking boots, and you still end up with nothing. Did you congratulate Rowan and Nina yet?" I replied calmly, "Respect and blessings. Enjoy being locked in forever."