Pendek Romance Cerita & Novel

I've been in a secret relationship with my stepbrother, Caesar Kane, for eight years. He promises he'll marry me after graduation. As graduation approaches, he tells me he's tired of me and has found someone younger and prettier. I throw away the ring he gave me and cut up my wedding dress. All of his friends place bets on how long it will take before I come crawling back to him. Caesar has always treated me like I'm his property and declares with complete confidence, "Give it three days tops. She'll come crawling back in tears, begging me to take her back." So I accept the invitation from a prince from my Farbourne University prep program. I follow him to Snowcall, leaving behind the stepbrother who clearly doesn't care about me anymore. Caesar finally cracks and calls me. "Miranda, enough with the drama. Come home." A man's low, amused chuckle comes through the phone. "Pro tip—you shouldn't wait around if you want to win your woman back. Someone else might sweep her off her feet." Caesar practically snarls into the phone. "Put Miranda on the phone!" The man leans down and kisses me. "Sorry, we wore each other out pretty thoroughly just now, and she's out cold. Give me a second to wake her up properly."

On the way to my twin boys' parent-teacher conference, I'm informed that my sons, Ricky and Micky Stallone, have already been taken home by their parents. I'm immediately worried sick about their safety. However, when I look across the road, I suddenly catch sight of a very happy family of four—Ricky, Micky, my husband, Corbin Stallone, and his first love he could never forget, Ingrid Lacelle. Ricky and Micky both run into Ingrid's arms, cozying up to her and calling her "Mommy". Meanwhile, Corbin gently kisses Ingrid's forehead with a doting expression on his face. I join the crowd of envious onlookers, watching the beginning of the end of my marriage.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

My fiancé dumped me the moment he found out about my rare blood type. "That condition of yours? Yeah, it'd just drain my wallet." I was spiraling when Vincent showed up—like some knight in shining armor, pulling me out of the wreckage. He didn't care about my blood type. We barely dated before he proposed, and for a while, married life felt perfect. Until a year later, when I overheard him talking to a doctor. "Vincent, you already took 400 milliliters of Sophia's blood last month, and now you want another 200? Are you insane? Even if you love Emma, you can't just drain an innocent woman dry for her!" "A little more won't kill her. Stop overreacting." My head spun. My whole body went cold. That's when it hit me—our perfect marriage had been a lie from the start.

By month four of my IVF treatments, my husband's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of herself cradling her baby bump. The caption? [Having a happy ending with my first love. A family of three.] And there he was—his hand in the shot, making a cutesy heart with hers. Oh, and the cherry on top? He was still wearing his wedding ring.

On New Year's Eve, my boyfriend, Leon Parker, proposed to Charlotte Rain in front of all our relatives.  I didn’t cry or make a scene. All I wanted was an explanation for the years of love I had invested in him. Then, I overheard a conversation he had with his brother. “You’ve been together with Annabelle for so many years. Have you never had any feelings for her?” “Feelings? What are you talking about? I only kept her around to entertain myself and kill some time.” “Aren't you worried she’ll leave you?” “That’s impossible! We’ve been together for five whole years. She’s so used to being with me that she could never leave me even if she wanted to.” After that, I had a whirlwind marriage with a blind date my family matched me with, and our wedding just so happened to be on the same day as his. Before his wedding, he was on edge, worried I’d show up to make a scene. That was when he saw the wedding invitation I posted online.

Lucas Ashton and I have secretly dated for five years. We're preparing to announce our relationship during a business dinner. However, he doesn't mention a word of it during the dinner. Instead, he leans close to me and whispers half-jokingly, "I'm sick of sleeping with you and want to call it quits. Shall we not disclose our relationship?" I smile and nod. Then, I point at Emily Lane, his first love. "This is Lucas' girlfriend." In my past life, I pleaded with him not to leave me. All that got me was torment and death.

Upon hearing about my husband's surgery, I braved a typhoon and torrential rain, driving four hours back to the city. When I arrived at the hospital, my husband, Xander Gray, was lying on the hospital bed, calling out loudly, "I want my wife! Get my wife here!" His buddies around him joked about how his wife had him completely whipped. Everyone said he loved me to death. Blushing, I walked over with a happy smile and held his hand, saying, "I'm here." To my surprise, he shook off my hand in disgust and snarled, "Get lost! You're not my wife! My wife is Beverly Long!"

At our Thanksgiving family dinner, my stepbrother brought his beautiful girlfriend to meet the family for the first time. She held up her wine glass and flashed me a malicious smirk. “I heard you had a first love you can’t forget, Summer.” I kept my head low and focused on my food, unsure how to respond. After all, my first love… was her boyfriend. When I was seventeen, my stepbrother Ethan Cole tricked me into crossing the line we should never have crossed, while our parents were blissfully unaware. Even right now, under the table, his foot was rubbing mine sensually. He did not bother holding back. On the table, he held his girlfriend’s hand tenderly as he mocked me with a smirk, “You’re twenty-seven, sis. Your shelf life is running out, and you’re such a plain Jane. Who would ever want you?” I stood up abruptly and looked at him, my tone calm and resolute. “I’m married, Ethan.”

At my mother's funeral, I caught my husband passionately kissing a sales associate at the local department store. When I confronted him about it, he turned the tables and accused me of being paranoid and delusional. Later, I discovered she had been calling my husband "daddy" in their text messages. The betrayal left me emotionally numb, and I decided to step aside, giving them my blessing. What I did not expect was discovering that she was not just involved with my husband—she had been sleeping around with multiple men. When my husband finally learned the truth, he came crawling back to me with tears streaming down his face, begging for forgiveness. By then, I had already moved on with my life and wanted nothing to do with him.

My new dormmate thinks my boyfriend is a player and advises me to break up with him. After I politely reject her, she gets mad and complains about me online, saying I'm love-addled brain. Her video goes viral, and the online community calls me an ingrate who doesn't know what's good for me. When I see the smug smile on my dormmate's face, I slap her without even batting an eye. "Stop acting like you're a champion for feminism when all you can think of is making yourself seem better than other women!"

My mother-in-law gets into an accident and is taken to the emergency room. I call my attorney husband, but he only answers after over 20 missed calls. "What are you on about this time? Gigi has a bit of a problem, and I'm helping her. Stop being unreasonable." I suppress my grievance and say, "Mom's gotten into an accident. Transfer 100 thousand dollars to me." However, he believes Gigi Norris' lies and snarls, "What does your mother getting into an accident have to do with me? Don't even think of getting money from me to provide for your family. Now, leave me alone. I'm busy!" He hangs up, and my mother-in-law dies. Three days later, I see my husband in court. Gigi has been taken to court for driving under the influence, and he's there to defend her. He speaks eloquently and manages to get her off based on a lack of evidence. I lose hope in him and ask him for a divorce once the court is out of session. That's when he panics. "Think about how well my mother treats you! You'll break her heart by divorcing me!" I sneer. I throw the hospital bill and death certificate in his face. The idiot doesn't even know he no longer has a mother!

The night before our wedding, Desmond Arlington got jumped out of nowhere. By the time I made it to the hospital, he stared at me like I was a total stranger. Doctor said it was memory loss—some brain rattle from the hit. Temporary, supposedly. So I went full nostalgia tour, dragging him back to all our spots, hoping something would click. Then one day at the hospital, I caught him running his mouth with his buddy. "Rhea's trying so hard. Doesn't that do anything for you?" "Do what? I'm over it. Same spots, same girl. The new ones are way more fun." "So why marry her? Just call it off and live your life." He snapped, "Shut up. I LOVE Rhea. I'd never bail on the wedding. I'm just... pushing it back a bit." I looked down at the test results—zero issues. Everything normal. And that's when it hit me: you can't help a faker.

When the earthquake struck on what should have been our fourth wedding anniversary, my supposedly devoted and family-oriented husband, Lionel Brooks, abandoned me and our children, who were trapped under the rubble. Despite our children's pleas for help, Lionel left without a second thought, carrying his former flame, Fiona Smith, and her daughter to safety. While Fiona and her daughter escaped with minor injuries, my precious children had their chests pierced by steel beams, leaving this world forever. It was such a twisted fate. What was meant to be a day of celebration turned into an annual day of mourning for my beautiful children. A week later, during my children's funeral, Lionel had the audacity to call and ask which hospital the kids were in. It was laughable—after ensuring Fiona and her child were comfortable and safe, he finally found time to check on his flesh and blood. I could only say, "You finally remembered your children after a whole week? Lionel, I hope you rot in hell."

My husband, Ethan Parker, brought our daughter on a trip to the countryside with his first love, Mandy Sanchez. Halfway through, he abandoned our little girl and left with Mandy. When our daughter was surrounded by wolves, I could not reach him. By the time I arrived, the car was empty—the only thing left behind was a bloodstained piece of pumpkin pie. As I was dealing with my grief, Ethan finally answered his phone. "We're celebrating Thanksgiving. Why are you ruining the mood?" I internally scoffed at that man's audacity. Well, happy holidays indeed! Let me deliver a bloody pumpkin pie for you to really get into the spirit.

I found out I was pregnant in the middle of a fight with my husband. How should I tell him without embarrassing myself too much? I decided to ask the Internet, and the netizens gave me a ton of advice based on their years of experience reading novels. One, run away with your unborn baby. Two, pretend to gag over lunch. Three, put his number into the abortion registration form… When he came to me in a frenzy, I belatedly realized, ‘Crap, I think I went too far!’

I'm a single mother. A wealthy woman hires me to work as a housekeeper in her home. What I don't expect is that housework isn't what she wants me to do. Instead, she dresses me in an expensive gown.

Five years ago, I gave up my research achievements for love. Then, out of the blue, Marcus Parker's childhood friend made her return to the country. Using the excuse of playing truth or dare, they did everything that couples did together. I reminded Marcus not to go too far, but he just gave me a helpless look. "Claire, if I really had something going on with Hannah, I wouldn't have married you." I watched as he chose to abandon saving my mother for Hannah Carter's sake. He even hung up on me when I got into a car accident. When I woke up again, I learned that my unborn child, who was not three months old, had died in my womb. I finally gave up all hope and handed him the divorce papers. "Marcus, let's get divorced." A month later, I boarded a plane bound for Andoria.

The end of the world was upon us, but there weren't enough spots for evacuation. The roars of the zombies echoed in my ears as my fiancé, Oliver, gritted his teeth and pulled me onto the rescue vehicle—securing the last available seat. I arrived safely at the survivor base. Lina, his first love, did not. The zombies tore her apart. Oliver still went through with our marriage, but I never expected that he had only done so to make me suffer. In his eyes, I was the one who had killed Lina. If she had to endure such agony, then I should, too. For five years, he hated me. My life was worse than that of a stray dog scavenging for food on the street. On the day my divorce was finalized, he kidnapped me, dragged me into the wilderness, and wrapped his fingers around my throat. Then, he threw us both into the swarm of the undead. When I opened my eyes again, I was somehow reborn on the day the apocalypse began. The rescue team was shouting impatiently, "One more! We have room for one more—hurry!" I turned to Oliver, watching his hesitation. Then, with a quiet smile, I took a step back and let someone else have the last seat.

I watched as my boyfriend put the ring that he had promised to give me on Sophie White's finger at her birthday party. When I questioned him, Mark Goodman shrugged nonchalantly. "I promised to marry Sophie. Since that's not happening now, the ring is compensation." I was left speechless from rage and so disenchanted that I decided to cut all ties with him. Everyone was cheering when Mark later showed up at a gathering with Sophie, both wearing a matching set of rings. But when they all thought I would make a scene, I smiled faintly. "You two really deserve each other. When are you getting married? Do send me an invite."