Short Romance Stories & Novels

Amara Larkspur and I have been dating for seven years. But she claims that she's sick of me, so she quickly finds herself a younger lover. I don't kick up a fuss at all. All I do is throw away the engagement ring and take down the decorations of the proposal venue. After that, I leave the city where I got my heart broken. All of Amara's friends keep speculating just how long it'll take me to crawl back to her this time. After all, everyone thinks of me as her ultimate simp. However, this time, I never return to her side. Amara finally panics and calls my number. "Ryan Crawford, if you don't return to me right now, we'll break up for real!" But all she hears is a feminine voice that lets out a soft titter. "Ryan is bathing at the moment. I can help you pass the message if you'd like."

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I made a special trip to the salon to have my hair done. While settling the bill, I noticed an extra charge on my account. It was a coloring and perm package. Judging by the price, it was a package meant for waist-length hair. Mine had been cropped short for seven or eight years. I called my husband, Jason Moore. "Have you used my salon membership card recently?" There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before he laughed lightly, "Oh, I lent it to Quincy a few days ago." Quincy Hahn was his business partner, a fine arts student with long hair. She treasured her natural curls more than anything. She would never be willing to dye or perm it. More importantly, her elder sister was a major shareholder of this salon. Why would she ever need to use my card? I said nothing more and ended the call. Then, I headed straight to a location displayed on my phone. In the cafe, a long-haired lady was nestled in Jason's arms. Her freshly permed curls were soft and bouncy, framing her blushed face with certain demureness. Jason had always complained that my short hair made me look rough and manly. I lacked gentleness and charm. It seemed this long-haired lady suited his tastes perfectly.

I back out of marrying Yvonne Mullen, my fiancee, just two days before the wedding, even though we have been together for seven years. The staff member at the venue is stunned. "Your wedding is coming. Don't you want to wait for the bride to return and talk things over first?" I smile and take one last look at the wedding venue I personally spent three months preparing. I then say calmly, "I'm done waiting. She doesn't have the time since she's getting married to her first love in Alveria at this moment."

Susanne Doyle, my wife who's a general manager, often travels to Havenport on business trips. When she comes home, she either has cuts on her mouth or bruises on her thighs. Whenever I ask her about those injuries, she always claims that she accidentally tripped and fell after getting drunk. On our third wedding anniversary, I find out that Susanne has already formed another family in Havenport. At the moment, she's nestling into another man's arms, looking very alluring and seductive. A few of her mentees sit around her and her beau as they start cheering on them. "Now that your fiance has accepted your marriage proposal, does that mean you're about to buy strawberry donuts to celebrate this occasion tonight, Susanne?" The moment I hear the words "marriage proposal", I feel thunderstruck. Susanne begins making out passionately with her new fiance, Stanley Quinn, the next moment. As I watch the loving scene unfold before my eyes, I feel as though my heart has just gotten dunked into icy waters. At the doorway, I happen to bump into Stanley, the very same man who had embraced Susanne earlier. With Susanne's mentees flanking behind him, he drags me into the washroom before punching me in the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you ogle my fiancee! Are you the one who has been harassing her through text messages? "Here's a warning for you—Susanne is my lover! If I ever see you trying to pull any tricks on her, I'll show you a world of pain!" Stanley then waves a hand. The other mentees begin roughing me up with punches and kicks. "This is just a small warning for you." He doesn't know that I'm Susanne's legal husband, much less the fact that I'm the sole reason behind her ability to snag the position as the general manager.

My wife, Andrea Cohen, has been pretending to be blind for three years while clutching onto her cane. On the night the old building of the medical university crumbles due to an earthquake, a crumbling wall completely shatters my spine. I can only scream Andrea's name hysterically in an attempt to call for help. With her eyes closed, Andrea stands by the debris while responding in my direction in a cold voice, "I can't see, so I can't feel you at all. You should crawl out to safety by yourself." But the next moment, her first love, Eugene White, lets out a surprised yell. When he's about to get struck by the falling rocks from the tremors, Andrea's eyes suddenly snap open. She tosses her cane aside and accurately avoids the metal bars and spikes that are strewn all over the ground. Without hesitation, she lunges at Eugene just to protect him from the rocks. The back of my head ends up getting pierced by a fallen slab. After I wake up from a coma, I've gone completely blind. At the same time, my intelligence has deteriorated to one of a five-year-old. Three years later, Andrea, who has become the best surgeon in the industry, looks for me everywhere like a lunatic. Finally, she spots me huddling under a bridge, where I beg for food and money. She sinks down to her knees in the snow, her eyes bloodshot. "To think that you're brutal enough to take out your own eyesight just to avoid me! Is it even worth getting reduced to this state?" I tilt my head quietly as I stare at the void with my hollow gaze. Then, I slowly dig out a blackened coin from my cracked bowl before passing it in Andrea's direction. "Your eyes are working fine, lady. Why are you feeling around on the ground just like me? Are you here to beg for food as well? I've only earned one coin, but I'll give it to you."

My son just had surgery. I'm sitting by his bedside in the hospital when I come across a post online. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?" One anonymous comment stands out. "I used the upperclassman who funded me as a stepping stone. My sponsor was rich but clueless. After she paid for my entire college, I slept with her husband and got pregnant. "The craziest part? My son and her son were born on the same day, but my husband swapped the babies. Now, she treats my son like he's her whole world, working day and night to give him a better life. "But her own son lives with me, wearing hand-me-downs and eating leftovers. Today, my son had surgery. I was worried sick, so I slapped her son hard a few times. "Oh, and her family just got a three-million-dollar payout for relocation. My husband is going to the hospital later. He's going to use the excuse of buying a house near the schools to get the money. "Once we have the money, I'm buying a villa. Then I'll get my son back and kick her out!" The post includes a blurry photo of a boy begging on his knees. My breath catches because the charm on his wrist is the same lucky charm I gave my son the day he was born. Just then, my husband pushes open the door to the ward and walks in. "Honey, Sean's starting elementary school soon. Let's use that relocation money your mom received to buy a house near the schools."

I’ve always felt the child that I’ve cared for the past three years was not mine. My mother-in-law told me I was overthinking and was just tired. However, I remember it clearly. My child had a birthmark on their left arm.   Even my husband said it was nothing more than a dream I had after passing out during labor.   Still, I began to suspect that my in-laws swapped my child at birth.  

On my girlfriend's birthday, I was in the middle of preparing a surprise for her when the property management office of our marital home called first. "Sir, we've received a complaint from another resident," the staff member said. "They claim there's been… quite a bit of noise coming from your unit at night. From you and your wife." I frowned. The only person I had given a key to that apartment was my girlfriend. I called her immediately. She answered with a soft, teasing tone, "They must have made a mistake. I'm at my best friend's place." "Alright," I said evenly. "Enjoy yourself." After hanging up, I opened the smart home system without hesitation and remotely locked every door and window from the outside. Then I dialed the police. "Hello, I'd like to report an unlawful entry."

When I'm paying the pension for my jobless wife, Lilith Ingram, I accidentally find out that she's had a job this whole time. She's paid a salary of two thousand dollars, which is wired into her personal bank account. Every month, the money will be transferred elsewhere, leaving her without a single cent. I've never seen the money before. Back when our daughter, Maisy Ingram, was severely ill, we were 200 dollars short to pay for her hospital bills. I was so poor that I had to sell my blood and beg everyone around me just to get them to lend me money. But during that time, Lilith never thought of sharing the burden with me. She merely comforted me with empty words before transferring two thousand dollars to her first love, Hayden Grant, the next day. Our marriage of 30 years is reduced to nothing but a laughingstock. I place the divorce agreement that I've printed out in front of Lilith. It's a silent confrontation between us. "Must you really resort to this method?" Lilith snaps impatiently. "It's just two thousand dollars! You have an annual salary of 200 thousand dollars! Why care so much about chum change?" Even Maisy takes her side by calling me a petty, stingy geezer. "Everyone has an unattainable first love when they're still young! You should be grateful that Hayden has been holding back his urges without crossing the line for so many years!" I feel as though I got struck by lightning at that moment. It's then that I belatedly realize I'm the only outsider in this family. "Getting a divorce is fine by me. Hayden's getting on with the years. I just want to take care of him and send him off when his time eventually arrives." Maisy adapts a righteous tone. "As compensation for me, I get the house, the car, and the savings. You're leaving this marriage without a single cent under your name."

My husband, Joaquin Landon, is a renowned wax sculptor. He hangs up on me when I call him to save my life so he can focus on the wax sculpture his cousin wants. Amphetamine is injected into my system, so my mind is clear as I watch my nails get removed one by one. Every inch of my skin is covered in burning hot wax. My hair and lashes are plucked off, and my organs are ground. Steel pipes are inserted into my legs, and I'm turned into a wax sculpture. Joaquin sees me during an exhibition. His colleague tells him that the wax sculpture he sees looks eerily like me, but he merely looks disgusted. "All she does is cause trouble and act unreasonably. She's better off dead." What he doesn't know is that I already am. Joaquin doesn't recognize that I'm the wax sculpture before him.

I had proposed seven times, but Winnie Smith continued refusing to marry me. This was because the Smith family had a special test. To marry their daughters, their sons-in-law had to refrain from sleeping with their fiancees after being drugged. I tried seven times. However, every time after I regained consciousness, Winnie would be sleeping naked next to me. She would cry and throw herself into my arms. “It’s fine. We can try again. I trust you.” It was not until the eighth time that I overheard her instructing the butler, “Switch the aphrodisiac to sleeping pills, and make sure it’s a high dosage. “After he falls asleep, I’ll take it from there as usual.” While I kept my eyes shut tight, I could hear her taking off her long dress. Then, she came over to unbutton my shirt. I heard her sigh. “I’m sorry, Benjamin Lowe. Joe Anderson’s been diagnosed with cancer, and his last wish is to be with me. “Don’t worry, though. After he passes, I’ll marry you immediately.” Right then, I realized that her family’s test had been a lie she told just to marry her childhood best friend. The next day, my parents pressured me again to leave the country and inherit the family business. So, I agreed to their request. Since she wanted to marry Joe, I would wish the couple well.

After getting drunk, I let my impulses take over and I completely ruined an innocent younger guy. I tried to throw money at the problem to make it go away, but he insisted I take responsibility by marrying him instead. I thought I was taking in a penniless boy toy who would live off my dime. Turned out... the joke was completely on me!

Five years after moving abroad, I return to the country for the first time at the invitation of a business partner. My partner sends a reliable assistant to meet me at the company entrance. I never expect to see my ex, Roy Henderson, who disappeared without a trace five years ago. Back then, a car accident lands me in the hospital. I need his signature, but he is nowhere to be found. Later, I find out he has gone to celebrate his lover's birthday. Everyone assumes I will forgive him like I always do. After all, I have forgiven him countless times before. As soon as I get out of the hospital, I leave the country and disappear from his life completely. Roy frowns as I walk into the company. "You actually tracked me down?" He lets out a sigh. "Forget it. Since you've found me anyway, Ava just had a baby and is still in postpartum recovery. Go take care of her."

On our third anniversary, the restaurant my wife, Selena Sander, and I frequent is reserved by her twisted first love, Shane Johnson. He tramples over the rose petals that are scattered all over the floor while making his way toward our table. Then, he slaps a pregnancy report onto the table. "Three years ago, I personally tattooed a rose on Selena's abdomen. I even made a vow with her, saying that she cannot give birth to your child until I find someone I love more than her." As Shane points at the name shown on the pregnancy report, he flashes me a cruel smile. "Now, I've found my true love. That's why I came to inform Selena that our vow can now be broken." The bitterness that I tasted from the countless contraceptives that I've taken over the past three years suddenly floods my mouth. I then turn to look at Selena. There's no trace of guilt shown on her expression despite having gotten exposed by Shane. Instead, she just looks at me coldly. "You heard him, right?" she utters. "We can have a child together now." At that moment, I feel like strangling her more than anything else in the world.

We had been married for three years, and together, our income was decent at twenty-six grand a month. Yet, we barely had two hundred bucks in savings. My husband was a nice guy, lending practically his entire wages to our next-door widow and her daughter. He covered their expenses when the daughter needed money for school, when the widow needed a little time at the spa, and when they wanted to give their home a new facelift. The moment my father fell ill and needed surgery, I went next door to ask for the money back. However, my neighbors slammed the door in my face. “Your husband chose to give us the money. Why should we pay you back?” Enraged, I sought help from my husband, only to be criticized. “I felt bad for them. Why did you demand payment when they are already struggling? What’s wrong with you?” I smirked. That night, I decided to do a good deed by spending my entire paycheck to help a broke college hunk. The next day, our power was cut off for unpaid bills, and my husband lost an unfinished document he hadn’t saved. Putting his finger up my nose, he gave me a piece of his mind. “Where’s your money? Why didn’t you pay the bills?” I replied with the most innocent look on my face, “I helped a struggling college student. His life was falling apart because he had to deal with a sick mom and a deadbeat dad. His needs should come before the utility bills.”

Serena Jacobs and I have been entangled with each other for ten years. We thrive in humiliating each other. If she bids for the highlighted item in an auction for her male assistant, then I shall spam gifts for a female influencer on her livestream. If she thrashes my Maserati, I'll just throw away her Louis Vuitton bag. We've filed for a divorce multiple times. All of our friends keep telling us to just get a divorce, and yet we've never truly severed our ties in the end. But after Serena sings a happy birthday song for her assistant, I draft a divorce agreement right away. This leaves Serena feeling confused. "All this over a birthday song?" I nod calmly. "Yup. All this over a birthday song indeed."

After returning from my business trip, I saw my wife lying on the couch in an alluring position. I initially thought it was a surprise, but the next moment, I spotted a hidden camera in the corner of the TV cabinet. It turned out that my wife had been secretly...

After I switched from a private company to a foreign enterprise, my salary rose accordingly. My husband, who was always frugal, suggested that I hand over my entire salary to him. He claimed it would be used for daily household expenses. Watching him calculate the numbers, I asked, “What about your salary?” He said casually, “I’m saving it for our retirement.” I said nothing and followed his instructions. I spent my entire salary within a month. My husband finally felt uneasy when he saw how many packages kept showing up at our home. Seeing his doubts, I happily said, “You’re the one who said to use my whole salary for household expenses.” He exclaimed, “What are we, the Rockefellers?! How can one month cost this much?” That was funny. It turned out that he knew that a normal family’s expenses would never take my entire salary.

My boyfriend came from a wealthy family. We had been together for seven years, yet he had never given me a single gift. When he proposed, he even asked for the diamond ring back so he could return it for a refund. Later, when we were about to register our marriage, he complained that the paperwork fee was too expensive and said it wasn’t necessary. However, not long after that, he registered his marriage with his childhood sweetheart instead. He even booked the most luxurious hotel in the entire city, eager to throw a grand engagement party. The shock was too much for my grandmother, and she suffered a heart attack. I dropped to my knees and begged my boyfriend to return the salary I had entrusted to him over the years, as I needed the money to pay for my grandmother’s surgery. He simply wrapped his arm around his childhood sweetheart and pretended not to know me. He said he would never help a lazy beggar who only knew how to freeload. Then, he ordered the security guards to throw me out. Later, my grandmother died on New Year’s Eve, her final breaths drowned out by the sound of fireworks outside. While everyone else celebrated the holiday season, I handled my grandmother’s funeral alone. At the same time, I accepted a job offer from a major overseas company. When I returned home to get my passport, the man—who had just finished introducing his sweetheart to his parents and was clearly in a good mood—saw me and assumed I was still throwing a tantrum. For the first time, he spoke generously. “Alright. What could possibly have happened to your grandmother? At worst, I’ll make it up to you with a luxurious wedding.” What he didn’t know was that from the moment my grandmother took her last breath, I no longer wanted to marry him.

My period is delayed once again, so I need to visit the gynecology department. In order to avoid embarrassing myself in public, I specifically ask for a doctor with a feminine name. That's how I make an appointment with Dr. Jessie Lloyd. But it turns out that Jessie is a man! After the initial embarrassment, I realize that Jessie is looking at me weirdly.