Pendek Romance Cerita & Novel

I went to the hospital to pick up prenatal vitamins for my pregnant girlfriend, Nina Pringle, but I saw her in a room instead. She was staring at her ex, Shane Miller, guilt all over her face. "I'm sorry. I really didn't expect to get pregnant. "I told you, I'm with Felix just to see whether you still care about me..." Shane didn't hold back. "So when are you finally breaking up with him?" She shook her head, something cold flashing in her eyes. "He's been messing things up between us for too long. I'll make him feel guilty—get him to give me whatever I want... whatever we need. Don't worry. I don't love him."

A week before our engagement, I finally learned that the man Madison Clarke had always secretly loved... was me. Overjoyed, I hurried to sign to her, wanting to tell her that I was LeoWinter—the gaming partner she'd been coupled with online. What I got in return was ridicule. "Charlie, how does a mute guy like you manage to pull so many tricks?" "LeoWinter already told me his account got stolen. He switched accounts ages ago. And you still want to pretend you're him?" It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My entire body went rigid. She had forgotten that this game ID was permanently bound to the account. It was impossible for it to be stolen.

On Christmas Eve, our three-year-old daughter, Noelle Gilder, who has cancer, takes a turn for the worse. All she wants is for her mother, Ivana Lance, to dress as Santarina and bring her a gift. I frantically call Ivana, but she impatiently yells into the phone, saying, "Why are you calling me nonstop? I am helping Charles look for Bubbles! Do you really have to make a scene over this? If Bubbles is gone, Charles will be so heartbroken that he will not be able to sleep for days!" Bubbles? So she was looking for the dog of her first love, Charles Larsson! Suppressing my anger, I tell her that Noelle might not survive the night. She laughs disbelievingly, "Mr. Gilder, do not think for a second that I'm not aware that you've spoiled Noelle rotten! If she had not suddenly kicked Bubbles, he would not have run away. Make Noelle apologize to Charles tomorrow." After hanging up, I accompany Noelle as she spends her final Christmas Eve with tears in my eyes. The next day, Ivana publishes a post on Instagram, still looking for the dog. Meanwhile, my post is Noelle's obituary. Ten years of marriage melt away into nothingness like snow.

After designing a one-of-a-kind suit, Lynette Gibson declares online, "This suit is not for sale. It's a gift to the man I love the most." She tells me she'll give it to me on the day we get engaged. That day finally comes along, but she doesn't show up at our engagement party. Instead, she gives the suit to her assistant, Zac Fisher. Lynette and I have been together for seven years now. For the first time in our relationship, instead of confronting her about it, I simply announce to all our friends that she and I are calling off the engagement.

Yesterday, my fiancé told me he didn’t have time to come home with me for the holidays, but secretly, he had booked a flight to my hometown. I couldn’t help feeling a quiet thrill. Justin Baker had always been good at surprises back when we were dating. I just didn’t expect that now, when we were practically like an old married couple, he’d still do something like this. I was just about to tell my dad the news when my stepsister suddenly dropped a message in the family group chat that she was bringing her boyfriend home for the holidays. The relatives in the family immediately started teasing her, wanting to see what he looked like. The next second, photo after photo of her and Justin’s couple pictures flooded the chat. “I told you he’s really handsome, right? And he’s the same age as me.” “Oh wow, you locked him down so young? Dawn, you’re impressive.” “Hmph, of course. He’s crazy about me.” I stopped breathing. So that was why, when he found out I’d be spending the holidays at my mom’s place this year, he suddenly said he didn’t have time to come with me. It was because he already knew we wouldn’t run into each other. My hands trembled as I sent him one last message. [I’ve returned the engagement gift to you. We’re done.]

On the day my husband, Samuel Fletcher, and I flew home, our plane ran into great turbulence, causing it to crash. We both died in that crash. When we wake up again, we've returned to the night of our graduation day. That's when I find out Samuel has never let go of his feelings for his first love, Sienna Blake, the whole time. I decide to grant his wish in this lifetime. I take off my wedding dress and no longer simp over him. After that, I part ways with him, not planning to contact him ever again. Seven years later, Samuel becomes a famous artist in the city. He and Sienna announce their relationship publicly at an art gallery. Upon noticing that I've come to the art gallery on my own, Samuel mocks me right away. "I know you love me deeply, but can you please stop being so shameless? I can't believe you stalked me all the way here!" At that moment, my daughter, Elena Dalton, runs over and takes my hand. Samuel looks extremely shell-shocked. With raised brows, he demands, "Didn't you promise you'd love me and me only? Who the hell did you have this bastard child with?"

To the public, Maggie Sinise and I are a golden married couple who have lived peacefully with each other for over four decades. But when Maggie is on her deathbed, she grips my hand tightly while pleading to me, "Aaron, if there ever is a next life, please… please let me and Scotty be together…" I feel as though I've gotten struck by lightning. The shock lasts for a long time. But since this is Maggie's death wish, I nod in agreement. "Okay." Upon hearing the answer she's been yearning for, Maggie closes her eyes in satisfaction. What I don't expect is that both of us have actually returned to the timeframe that's set 40 years ago. Just as I'm trying to wrap my mind around the question as to why Maggie has gotten reborn as well, I hear her stating firmly, "I will never marry Aaron! In this lifetime, Scotty is the only man I will ever marry!" I'm not mad at all. I'm just curious about one thing, though. How will Maggie ever rebuild Sinise Group and make it great again without my help this time?

My wife, Lillian Harmon, skips our daughter's birthday party to celebrate her male assistant’s birthday instead. We run into them at the restaurant. My daughter, Rosetta Coleman, runs over and hugs her. She calls out, "Mom." But Lillian pushes her away coldly and pretends not to know her. She turns and wraps her arms around Marcus Fisher while explaining, "I have no idea where this brat came from. She's just randomly calling strangers her mom." Rosetta is hurt and confused. She is on the verge of tears as she asks, "Why did Mommy pretend not to know me?" I hold her and say, "You got the wrong person. Your mom is in Marindale." Right away, I file for divorce and take Rosetta to Marindale. But Lillian loses her mind and chases after us to beg for our forgiveness. I keep her out of our lives and find Rosetta a new mother.

I cooked up a storm for our seventh wedding anniversary. However, my CEO wife took a couple of bites before leaving in haste for some work emergency. I trailed behind her, only to find her entering an upscale event space where she held a sip-and-see event for the twins she had through surrogacy. Pulling out a centurion card, she handed it to her male secretary and uttered solemnly, “You’ve done well, Dale. Everything I own will go to the children.” Dale, his eyes sparkling, pressed his lips against hers. “Ms. Markham, it’s my honor to have children with you.” With a scoff, I pushed open the door to the hall. I’d like to see how the guy managed to have children with a woman who was born with underdeveloped ovarian follicles.

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."

After my grandpa receives a critical notice regarding his illness, he takes my boyfriend, Layne Harper, by the hand and pleads with him. "Layne, please marry Aleah while I'm still alive this month. I want to see her live happily ever after." Everyone sheds tears in the hospital room, thinking that Layne will heed Grandpa's words right away by getting down on one knee and proposing to me. After all, I have been waiting for him for the past ten years. With tears brimming in my eyes, I wait for Layne's response eagerly. But he covers the speaker of his phone out of worry that he might awaken his childhood friend, Ruby Martin, whom he has spent the last five hours coaxing to sleep. Finally, Layne replies gently, "Don't worry, Grandpa. I will give Aleah the happiness she deserves. Even if we don't get married in the end, I'll stick with my promise." My relatives stop cheering Layne on immediately. Then, they turn to look at me sympathetically. But I just smile and go with the flow. "I'll still be happy even if I don't marry Layne, Grandpa." After all, in two hours, I will accept another man's marriage proposal.

My grandfather raised me after my parents died. Before his health failed, his only wish was to see me married and safe. So I begged the man I had loved for six years to marry me. Seventeen times. On the seventeenth, Grant Hale finally agreed. Then, on the day we were supposed to sign our marriage certificate, he walked out of the City Clerk's office with his childhood sweetheart on his arm. "I lost a bet to Nora," he said, laughing as he handed me a fake certificate. "Take this to your grandfather. He will never know the difference." When I begged him to come with me, he shook off my hand. "Stop being dramatic. I got married today. I do not have time for you. If you are that desperate for a husband, go inside and marry some random guy. I will not stop you." So I did.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

In the third year of our marriage, my wife, Lucy Sloan, asks me to perform a striptease in place of a nightclub host, Oscar Reilly, who loses a dare. She says, "Oscar is too timid. You do it for him!" The crowd erupts in cheers. "Lucy is so generous to let her own husband entertain us!" "I hear Garrett has eight-pack abs! Looks like we are in for a treat." As I listen to the crude remarks around me, I finally break down. In a trembling voice, I say, "Lucy, let's get a divorce..." A glass of red wine splashes straight onto my face. Lucy chuckles mockingly. "The Mueller family has already gone bankrupt. Where could you possibly go without me?" But this time, I am truly exhausted.

My older sister Seraphina had always been the center of attention in New York's Upper East Side. Everyone worshiped her, protected her. At the Montgomery charity gala, my father asked we to choose our future husband in front of every powerful family in New York. Seraphina smiled and generously let me choose first. But this time, I said no. In my past life, I truly thought she cared about me. I followed her suggestion and married Declan Thorne, a man whose immune system had failed after a car crash. He had been confined to a wheelchair for years, and people whispered that he was worthless. I surrendered my place in the family and became his nurse, his support, the only thing keeping him from complete loneliness. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never reach his heart. Then, at Seraphina’s gender reveal party, Declan stood up from his wheelchair in front of everyone. "Brielle,I felt nothing for you. You were just a way for me to get closer to Sera." The silence lasted only a second before the room turned on me. Every whisper, every stare, every hidden laugh made me feel like the biggest fool in New York. That night, I rushed out of the party and drove away before anyone could see me break down. On the bridge, my hands shook so badly that the car spun out of control and crashed through the railing. I made ninety-nine calls before the river swallowed the car completely, and every single one went unanswered. Three days later, they found me trapped beneath the water, already suffocated in the wreckage. Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the gala where my father had planned to announce our engagements. This time, I picked no one.

My wife, Melanie Sutton, uses my life-saving money to bridge the funding gap of her first love, Fred Grayson's company. With hatred shining in her eyes, she tells me, "You owe him this much, Edison Clark! I'd have gotten together with Fred a long time ago if it weren't for you! "People like you deserve to die!" As expected, I end up dying later on, only to get reborn on the day Melanie confesses to Fred. This time, I no longer stop her.

My wife's family ran on the old logic: sons mattered, daughters were a tax. They called my five-year-old daughter "the cash drain" to her face. On New Year's Day, my wife told me my daughter was donating a kidney to her cousin. I was about to lose it on every adult in that room when something appeared in the air in front of me, a column of text only I could see: [Is this woman seriously the mother? She says it's a kidney transplant, but she actually wants the kid's heart.] [If I had a mom like that I'd have cut her off years ago.]

Three years after getting out of prison, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."

Because of her first love's piano competition, my fiancee, Ashley Blake, postpones our wedding for the 17th time seven years into our relationship. On the eve of the competition, she chops off my ring finger just because Marc Tyson claims I injured his hand and ruined his ability to compete. The pain of losing my finger leaves me crying in agony, but she simply holds him in her arms and stares me down with indifferent eyes. She says, "Stop pretending, Troy Clinton. You're a grown man. What's all this fuss over losing a finger? Besides, you merely lost one finger. Marc has lost the dream he spent his whole life chasing! This is what you owe him." Her cruel words shatter my heart into tiny pieces. She has forgotten that my fingers are also meant to dance across piano keys. "The wedding next week is postponed," she says dismissively while covering Marc's reddened fingers. She adds, "This has nothing to do with Marc. It's simply because you can't wear a wedding ring with a missing finger anyway." Clutching my bleeding hand, I finally wake up to reality. From this moment onwards, we owe each other nothing.