Short Romance Stories & Novels

On the third day after our divorce was finalized, my ex-wife, Georgie Anderson, sent me a text message. [Why haven’t you transferred your salary from this month to me?] I thought she was joking. [We’re already divorced.] [So? What does it matter if we’re divorced? You should transfer nineteen thousand dollars from your twenty-thousand-dollar income, just like you did before. The remaining one thousand dollars will be your pocket money. When you were unemployed, I was the one who took care of you. Now that we’re divorced, you’re turning your back on me?] I stared at her text messages and fell silent for a really long time. Throughout our three-year marriage, I gave her nineteen thousand dollars out of my twenty-thousand-dollar salary. She was responsible for "budgeting" our household expenses. However, she spent my money on her civil service exam, afternoon teas with her besties, and even on her study partner, whom I’d never met. As for me, I handled all the house chores—cooking dinner, mopping the floors and doing the laundry. But when I took a little time after work to game, she would yell at me for being lazy. She was demanding money from me even after we were divorced. Her reason was that I might spend the money without thinking. I blocked her number. Three seconds later, she sent me a text message from another phone number. [You’ll regret this. I’m trying to help you one last time.] I laughed. ‘Helping me?’ I thought. Nobody had ever helped me in the past three years.

Three years after my death, Naomi Dudley—the woman I've driven away—finally returns to Avenport. She is still with Bryson Lloyd. She leans into him, looking sweet and submissive. At the story's end, the main couple's sweet romance continues. The only one who meets a miserable end is me, the villain who dares to steal the female lead. They are here to visit her mother's grave, and I happen to be buried just a short distance away. I float beside Naomi, looking at her and Bryson. They really do look like the perfect couple. Once the candle burns down, Naomi finds an excuse to send Bryson away. She walks over to my headstone and stands there in silence for a long time. So long that I assume she is just trying to find the right words to curse me. Instead, tears well up as she smiles and touches my photograph on the stone. "Kenneth, why haven't you visited my dreams?" I suppose it's because I'm not Bryson. My lingering regrets will never reach her dreams.

After seven years of marriage, my wife told me she would no longer share a bed with me. She said she was frigid. Once, after getting drunk, she ended up crossing that line with me. When she sobered up and realized what had happened, she locked herself in the bathroom and scrubbed herself clean for three days, sick with disgust the entire time. Later, she came back and demanded that I get a vasectomy if I wanted our dead bedroom to come back to life. I agreed, but I never went through with it. When her belly eventually began to show, the woman who had once worshiped the DINK lifestyle suddenly started looking forward to the arrival of that child. I told her I lied about the vasectomy. She said nothing about it, but for two weeks after that, I was beaten up, stripped and thrown at the company's entrance, kidnapped and strapped to a roulette while perverts enjoyed the show like I was a monkey. … By the time I escaped from the hospital, I was already barely holding on. Then I saw her lying in the arms of her old classmate, calmly ending the pregnancy. "I can't believe that bastard lied about the vasectomy," she said. "Just the thought that the baby might be his makes me sick. I'd rather not take the risk." That was the last straw. If she truly believed her body was nothing more than a graveyard, then I would make sure she got exactly what she wished for.

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.

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.

On the eve of our engagement party, my fiancée, Alissa Coleman, gets a marriage certificate with her male best friend, Rhys Pritchard, and celebrates it in the bar. Yet, she acts completely unconcerned about what she has done. She says flippantly, "It was just a joke. We'll get divorced tomorrow. Everyone knows Rhys and I are just best friends." Rhys responds with a provocative grin. "Even though the marriage is just for a day, there's still a special bond between us. Are you all just enjoying the show and won't even prepare a wedding gift for us?" Everyone at the table laughs raucously. "Sure. I happen to have a project in the western suburbs. I'll give it to you as a wedding gift. But there are rules at this table. If you want it, you'll have to win it with a game of dice." I say nothing more and simply take a seat at the table. Meeting Alissa's perplexed frown that is directed at me, I flash her a small smile. "Isn't this supposed to be a dice-rolling game for wedding gifts? I'd like to play too," I said.

My best friend, Dominic Vale, and his girlfriend have created a couple's channel. Lately, their channel has gone viral on the Internet. I subscribe to their channel instantly. Every time they upload a new reel, I'll always watch it. But I keep having a feeling that Dominic's girlfriend, whose looks are censored in the videos, acts just like my wife, Cara Hartley. When I bring it up in front of Dominic, he punches me in the chest. "Oliver Beckett, you lovesick bastard! You see your darling wife in everyone! At this point, I'm going to get really jealous!" I just chuckle stupidly while rubbing my chest. Then, I quickly change the topic. When Cara's company goes on a field trip, I decide to drag Dominic along. Unexpectedly, something occurs during our flight back to the city. An air stewardess distributes notes to all the passengers so that we can write down our wills. With a trembling hand, I finish scribbling my note. When I glance at Dominic and Cara, I realize that they've written each other's names on their notes. Then, Cara turns on her camera, which shows both her and Dominic in the same frame. "Dominic, I'm very happy that I get to be with you during my final moments in life. Everyone, we won't be updating this channel anymore. Goodbye." But she fails to notice the way my face has gone pale outside the frame. Thankfully, the plane lands safely on the tarmac. All of us are still alive. Instead of kicking up a ruckus, I tear the note in my hands before opening the car door. "What are you still standing around for? Get in."

My wife's nephew, Oliver, got kidnapped. The ransom was $500,000. Then my wife froze every card I had. I called her 999 times. Not one call went through. Oliver was tortured for three days. By the time they found him, he was covered in wounds. Dead. I pulled every favor I had and finally found Zara. In a hotel bed. With her so-called brother. "I'm wrecked about Poppy too, but she's gone. We can't bring her back. Holden needs heart surgery, and Poppy's a match. Send the body to the hospital." So Zara thought the kidnapped kid was our daughter. I was so pissed I laughed. Then I sent the body straight to the OR.

Tristan Moore, the low-income student whom my wife, Yvonne Zeller, has been sponsoring, tells her that he wishes to repay her for her benevolence. So, they end up spending long hours of passion in my laboratory. Because of that, the fluids they've left behind have tainted my experimental samples. On top of that, Tristan specifically texts me and makes me witness everything. I waste no time in barging into the laboratory. "Oh? Are you that poor that you can't afford a hotel room anymore, Ms. Zeller? Is that why you brought your side piece to my lab?" Yvonne wraps her top around her chest, her expression devoid of any guilt. "Get out. I'm the one who has invested in this lab, so I'm free to use it however I see fit. A leech like you don't get a say in this matter." I turn on my heel and walk away. That night, I hand over my new patent to Yvonne's older brother, Joshua Zeller. I'd like to see how Yvonne, who's still in the middle of fighting for the position as the heir, will still be able to stay calm after finding out about this.

[This month’s property management fee is $1,500. Please make the payment on time.] My wife, Grace Anderson’s phone screen lit up. I glanced at it and then took the phone. “Did the management office miscalculate this? Our management fee should only total up to $28 a month.” Grace stood up abruptly and tried to snatch her phone back. “He must’ve miscalculated! Let me talk to him.” However, I had already clicked on the link and read the page. [Cloud Mansion, property owner: Ken Smith.] The young male nanny cooking in our kitchen had the same name. Something snapped in my brain. The three of us were living in a very small house, but Grace had bought a mansion for our manny!

At my wife's birthday party, my daughter and son accidentally knocked over a bowl of soup and splashed it on their uncle. My wife grabbed his completely unharmed hand and tore into both children. But that still wasn't enough for her, so she locked the two of them inside the sauna. I called and begged her, again and again, to spare our kids. Her voice was ice cold. "Stop bothering me! This is your fault for raising them so badly! "Since they burned someone, they can sit in there and think hard about what they did!" The thermometer kept climbing. Blisters had already risen on my children's skin, and they wailed without stopping. I begged her to forgive them like a man gone mad. "They're little, they don't know any better. I'm begging you, let them out, or they'll die..." "Enough. You spoil these children so much you've made them lawless! "And don't you stand there playing crazy with me. A little heat like this won't kill anyone!"

In the two weeks leading up to our fifth wedding anniversary banquet, my wife's secretary, Ronald Piper, sent me photos of the two of them in bed every single day. I pretend not to know. On the day of the banquet, my wife, Jessica Tuttle, books out an entire hotel and gives a heartfelt speech, saying that I am the person she is most grateful for in this lifetime. Everyone applauds through tears. Over the years, Jessica, the aloof and capable CEO, has flown a thousand miles overnight just to come home and cook me broth when my stomach hurts. And when she is sentenced to imprisonment, I willingly serve two years behind bars in her place without hesitation. To outsiders, we are a perfect couple who are deeply in love with each other. While cutting the cake, I notice the pendant on Ronald's wrist. I had to call in every favor I had to get that pendant for Jessica. Back then, she says to me, "As long as the pendant stays on, our love remains. If it's ever removed, our relationship is over." I look at Jessica, who sighs with a helpless and indulgent expression. "Felix, Ron has been having nightmares lately. He's been down with a fever, too. I lent it to him for a few days to ward off bad luck. Don't argue with a kid over something so small, okay?" She then pats Ronald's shoulder reassuringly and urges, "You should thank Felix. He's always been understanding. It's just a trinket. He wouldn't be reluctant to part with it." Ronald looks at me timidly and says, "Thank you for letting me have it. With it protecting me, I can finally sleep peacefully every night while holding it in my arms. When I get better, I'll give it back to you." My best childhood friend is furious upon hearing this. "How can you turn a blind eye to all this?" he hisses. Of course I can.

In the fifth year after my death, Oliver Rypien, leader of the huge smuggling ring that has a notorious reputation domestically and internationally, finally gets arrested by the police. At the public trial court, Oliver can be seen wearing an inmate uniform, though his murderous look is etched on his scarred face. He even has the guts to hum a whimsical tune tauntingly, completely unrepentant. After hearing the prosecutor accusing him of killing 129 victims, Oliver suddenly snorts in laughter. "You're wrong. You're missing one more victim. The police officer named Victor Patton who came from the Customs Enforcement Unit? Yeah, he died at my hands as well." Everyone gasps in shock. A reporter is quick to rebuke Oliver. "Hang on, Victor is a mole working for your organization! After a bounty on him was posted, he had nowhere to run to, so he embezzled over hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of national assets before fleeing overseas! Even now, he's still living his life scotfree abroad!" Oliver shook his head before letting out a cold chuckle. "Victor was a stubborn one. Even though I crippled him, he still managed to kill five of my men. How is it possible for him to be our mole? "After crippling him, I threw him into the concrete foundation of Joy Bridge. If you don't believe me, go ahead and dig through the foundation." Suddenly, Oliver lowers his tone. His smile becomes more malicious. "Speaking of which, we did have a mole who worked with us to kill ten police officers. But now, he's successfully washed his hands off his crimes and became a certain someone's husband. "Why don't you take a guess as to who that brainless, idiotic woman is?" Three minutes later, my ex-wife, Gabriella Campbell, also known as the Chief Commissioner of Police in Gakoli, receives a phone call from the court outside the office of a well-known OBGYN department. "Chief Campbell, please come to the court immediately. The defendant has something crucial to tell you in person."

On the day I went to the city hall with my girlfriend to get married, her first love, Martin Lennox, suddenly appeared. “Teddy’s getting old, and his kidneys are failing. The vet said he only has a few days left. You should pay him a visit.” Teddy was the dog they got together. I knew about it, so I said kindly, “After Olivia and I get married, I’ll send both of you to the vet.” However, Martin suddenly started crying. “Olivia, you know dogs can’t speak, but he kept crying when he looked at your photo. He really wants to see you.” Olivia also started crying. She flung my hand away and apologized before she left with Martin. She disappeared for three days. On the fourth day, she returned home and apologized to me. Then, she dragged me to the city hall. Unexpectedly, Martin showed up with Teddy’s dead body. “Olivia, is your marriage really that important that you left Teddy alone at the vet? He’s dead now, and you didn’t manage to accompany him before he crossed the rainbow bridge!” Olivia cried as she looked at me. “I’ll come back to you after I bury Teddy, alright? Wait for me.” I gestured. “Just go, we can have our wedding ceremony first before we get our marriage certificate.” On the day of our wedding, Olivia was waiting happily for me at home in her wedding dress. However, she did not know that I was not planning on turning up.

The fifth anniversary of my marriage to my wife, Roxanne Clark, coincides with the National Day. We agree to spend the holiday together at the Ermane Sea. But on the morning of our departure, Roxanne hurriedly packs her luggage and informs me, "Something came up at work. I have to go on a business trip." I believe her. But later that night, I see a post from her first love, Conrad Jensen. In the photo, the two of them are standing close together with their fingers intertwined. Their matching couple bracelets are impossible to miss. I smile bitterly. In the end, she did go to the Ermane Sea, but not with the person she promised. I do not call to confront her. Instead, I calmly gave the post a "Like". One minute later, Roxanne calls me frantically and explains, "This is all a misunderstanding. We just happened to run into each other during the business trip. I'll definitely make it up to you on the next National Day." I chuckle dismissively and say, "It's fine. Have a great time." Roxanne looks extremely shocked as she asks, "Why aren't you jealous this time?"

To help my husband, Ryan Whitaker, compete for the director position, I spend an entire month securing the sale of a luxury apartment worth tens of millions of dollars. On the day the contract is signed, Ryan hands the primary contract to Lucinda Brooks, a new employee who has just joined the company. When I demand an explanation, his eyes flicker with guilt. Still, he argues, "Lucinda studied abroad. She is more academically accomplished than you, and her Iridian is better. The client happens to have a foreign business partner, so it'll be smoother if she takes the lead on the signing." As he speaks, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, expecting me to compromise like I always do. But this time, I don't smile but continue to pull a long face. That very afternoon, I submit my resignation letter and hand over every core client under my management. Ryan is furious as he tears up the resignation letter and mocks me. "When I married you, I didn't even care that you only graduated from high school. Why are you picking a fight with a newcomer now?" I laugh. It's true that I don't have an impressive educational background, but he's forgotten one most crucial thing. I didn't earn my title as the company's sales champion through academic credentials.

After I resign from a private company and move to work at an overseas company, my salary has increased by leaps and bounds. My wife, Vivian Spencer, who's always been smart about money, suggests that I turn in all of my salary. At the same time, she will decrease my allowance. Her reasoning is that she needs to use my salary on our family's daily expenses, so she can't spare me a single cent. As I watch Vivian record all the expenses dutifully, I can't resist asking, "What about your salary, then?" Vivian replies in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm saving it up for our retirement pension." I don't bother responding afterward. Since then, I start spending every single cent of my salary, as per Vivian's suggestion. When Vivian notices the stream of packages being delivered to our home, she finally can't take it anymore. Upon hearing her question, I tell her happily, "You were the one who said that my salary is meant for our family's expenses!" Vivian exclaims in shock, "What sort of family do you think we are? As if we can afford to spend this much money every month!" What a joke. It turns out that Vivian knows that a regular family's expenses can't possibly drain every single cent of my salary in one go.

To repay me for saving her life, Tiana Sabell lets me marry into her family. In the eighth year after I marry into the Sabell family with a monetary wedding gift worth billions, her long-lost first love, Hayden Brown, returns with a child. Because of a nightmare he has, he claims my daughter, Sabrina Zeller, is cursed and will bring harm to his son. Tiana locks Sabrina in an abandoned chapel deep in the mountains, forcing her to fast for seven days and nights to purify herself. I kneel before Tiana and beg, "Sabrina has a heart condition. If she does not eat or drink for seven days, she will die!" Tiana focuses only on preparing nutritious meals for Hayden. "She will not die from going hungry for a few days. If she cannot endure even this, how is she fit to be my daughter?" I am locked in the basement for seven days. By the time I find Sabrina, she has already starved to death. I carry her body, which is covered in livor mortis, back home. Holding Hayden in her arms, Tiana kicks me away. "What have you been teaching our daughter? How dare she fake her death to fool me? If you cannot raise our child properly, then I will give her a new father!" I call my sister and say, "Pull the investment. Let Sabell Group go bankrupt!"

After we were both reborn, my wife and I decided to part ways and live our own lives. She went to Newport with Klay Bernhard, the son of a wealthy family, while I went to study at a university in the capital. By leveraging her past life's experience, she helped her new boyfriend avoid investment risks and devise a brilliant business strategy. It didn't take long before she got everything she wanted in the past life. Meanwhile, I continued to focus on my studies and was content with living a mundane life. We met again at a class reunion years later. I saw her arm-in-arm with Klay. She was showing off the enormous diamond ring she wore. "It's been ten years, haven't you made anything of yourself?" All I did was smile and remain silent. That was until a wealthy businesswoman showed up late to the scene and threw herself into my arms. "You promised me we would go get our marriage license when I come back, you can't go back on your word!" At that moment, my wife from the past life, who was usually prideful, had a look of sheer disbelief in her eyes. It finally clicked for her that the reason I was willing to separate from her for so many years was not that I was stubborn. It was because we were through.

It was the day of my wedding. Wendy Halton huddled up to me and whispered, "I slept with Joe." She pointed at the big screen, a smile curling her lips. "Summer dumped you so she could have Joe. I swore I'd make her drink from the well of betrayal. So, I slept with the man she loves." My eyes went wide with disbelief. It was then that I realized the screen wasn't showing our wedding photos. Instead, they were showing something far raunchier, filthier. It was Wendy, and she was going at it with Joe Noelson. Three years ago, I caught my then-fiancée, Summer Shaw, cheating with Joe, who happened to be the underprivileged student that I sponsored. That single moment snuffed out all hope I had for the world, but Wendy barged in like a beam of angelic light. Now, she had gouged open my chest with the same weapon Wendy destroyed me with. Tears fell before I could stop them. A frown creased Wendy's forehead. "Stop crying. I got revenge for you. You should be happy."