Short Romance Stories & Novels

To win Samuel Zane’s heart, I lost everything. My family was ruined, and I was forced onto an operating table so he could take my heart and save his adopted sister, Xenia Zane, whose organs were failing. At the critical moment, William Zane disguised himself as a doctor and rescued me. We left the country and started a new life overseas. I used all my points to change my target from Samuel to William. “Host, I need to remind you that if you fail again after changing your target, you will be reincarnated as an animal and never become human again.” I looked at William as he knelt before me with a ring in his hand. I said firmly, “I do.” But when I gave birth to our daughter, I saw two figures standing outside my hospital room. William handed our daughter to Samuel and said, “Samuel, you’re rushing this. We need to wait until her organs are fully developed before we can take them.” Samuel’s expression remained cold. “Thanks to your plan, we were able to grow a healthy, young heart for Xenia. Don’t worry. We can just use an organ maturation agent.” “But…” “William, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that woman.” “Of course not!” I heard him deny it immediately. “I endured everything for Xenia.” The moment he finished speaking, the system’s robotic voice rang in my mind. “Host, your mission has failed. In one month, you will be reincarnated as an animal.”

I finally agree to purchase all the items in my wife Serena Porter's wish list after she bothers me about it for a month. Serena is overjoyed as she leaves the house with my black bank card. Some time later, I receive a notification on my phone, informing me that someone had purchased ultra-thin condoms from Francisia using my card. I'm still utterly confused when I coincidentally come across Serena's junior, Felix Jenkin's, social media account. He's showing off a screenshot of an order of the same condoms. "Serena treats me so well! She's going all out this time!" His comment section is filled with people urging him to secure Serena as soon as possible, since she is wealthy and is already being unfaithful to me. They also ask him to create a tutorial on how to charm their way into an easy life so that they can follow his example. I scoff and dial Serena's number. I also take a screenshot of Felix's post and send it to her. "What's the meaning of this? You're not even bothering to keep a low profile even though you're cheating on me?" I can hear the bed squeaking on the other end of the line. "Why do you get jealous over everything?" Serena snaps impatiently. "It's just one of the gifts that I prepared. It's almost Christmas, so I'm giving presents to all my employees." I immediately freeze my card after I hang up. I also send the screenshots of Felix's post and the order to the Porter family's group chat. I'm willing to match Serena's energy if that's how she wants to play the game. However, I don't think that she's ready to face the consequences after I freeze the card.

Luna Smith was a famous tarot reader. When Dean Stark and I were going to register our marriage, she flashed three cards, saying that marrying this day would ruin his destiny and fortunes. Dean promptly called it off, and told me to wait a couple of days… which ended up being five years. When I got pregnant, she said that the child would be a jinx to its father, and I was hence forced to get an abortion… on four different occasions. When my mother was diagnosed with liver cancer, I begged Dean for $200,000 on my knees. Even before Dean said a word, Luna frowned and said, "Your mother and her family are jinxed. If the money changes hands, Dean's career will be over." Dean sighed as he pushed me away. "Death is inevitable. Just accept it." I finally went hysterical, but Luna slapped me across the face. "You're being hounded by jinxes. That's why things aren't going well for Dean lately!" Then, blushing as she turned to Dean, she said, "Just sleep with me once, and let your male vigor erupt to blow away the jinxes. That's the only way." Everyone else promptly told me to be understanding and think of the big picture, while Dean himself said, "I swear—this will happen only once, and I will close my eyes the whole time. "We will marry once it's over. You've waited a long time for this, right?" Hence, he scooped Luna up in his arms and strode into our bedroom. As everyone else laughed and cheered, I quietly left and took out my phone, texting the famous demon king ruling the city, "We should register our marriage today, as it says in the cards. Are you coming?"

The night I found out I was pregnant, my six-year-old pointed at a child influencer on his tablet and said, perfectly calm, "She's my little sister." I didn't know whether to laugh, so I flicked him on the forehead. The girl posted from Harborcrest, halfway across the country from us. Caleb had never so much as met her. "She's got millions of followers. Don't make things up. "You want a sister that badly? Should Mommy have one for you?" I watched him, nervous and hopeful at once, afraid I'd miss whatever crossed his face. Instead he pulled up one of her older posts, no expression on him at all. "The purse in this picture, that was from me. Dad says she's the only sister I'm getting, so I have to take care of her." My stomach dropped, and the smile set on my face. "Mom. Dad and I are tired of pretending." He put a hand on my belly and looked up at me with flat black eyes, nothing behind them. "I promised Dad I'd protect her. So you can't have another annoying baby. "You'll do what I say. Right?"

My CEO girlfriend, Stella Nielson, wants to groom me into the most loyal and perfect boyfriend for her. So, she freezes my bank accounts, and I'm forced to report all of my expenses to her. I comply because I love her. I ruin my health for the sake of her career development, and now, I have to rely on expensive medications to even stay alive. My doctor says that my condition has severely deteriorated, and I require immediate treatment. But when I can't even scrape together 15,000 dollars for the surgery and call Stella asking for a loan from her, she mocks me instead. "Seriously? A grown man like you, asking me for money? Have you no shame, Noah Mendoza? I'm having cash flow problems at the company right now. I don't have any money to lend to you." She tells me not to be unreasonable, but she goes ahead and celebrates her childhood sweetheart, Damon Hayes' birthday on social media in an ostentatious manner. She even purchases a 50-million-dollar villa for him and books a lavish cruise party for the entire night. This time, I don't beg her for the money anymore. Instead, I decide to just disappear from her life.

The day we took our engagement photos, the photographer said my smile looked a lot like my brother Wesley's. Stefani Lundberg, my fiancée, immediately had Wesley change into the same white tuxedo. "Perfect chance to get a few keepsake shots." When it was time to pick the photos, everyone crowded around Wesley's. Mom said he was born to wear a white tux. Dad said he looked more distinguished than me, the actual groom. Stefani studied the screen for a long moment, then pointed at a photo of Wesley looking back over his shoulder. "Let's put this one at the wedding reception. It looks great." I asked where my photo was supposed to go. Only then did she seem to remember I was there. "You and Wesley look so much alike. The guests won't even notice the difference. "Besides, he's never getting married. It's not every day he gets to wear a custom tux." I let out a quiet laugh. From the time we were kids, life had always been harder for Wesley. That meant I was the one who had to give in. If he wanted something, I was expected to hand it over. If he couldn't have it, neither could I. Even my wedding had to become the dream he never got. I slipped the only photo of Stefani and me out of the album. I was standing beside her, trying hard to smile. Now it felt like I was looking at strangers. Spring hadn't failed to come. I'd just spent too long standing in someone else's shadow, waiting for it. This time, I was done waiting.

At the scene of a massive chain-collision accident, my police officer fiancé was being interviewed by the media. Facing the public’s praise for being “selfless and just”, he calmly stated that prioritizing the rescue of the female officer trainee riding in the same car was merely a police officer's instinct. It wasn’t until the cameras turned away that he tiredly rubbed his temple. He turned his head and asked the colleague beside him in a low voice, “Where is Lea? The core area was in critical danger just now, so I had to prioritize evacuating the injured Willow. Did the other teams manage to get her out?” His colleague looked completely taken aback. “Bro, your fiancé was trapped right there in your passenger seat! When everyone saw you carrying Willow out, we all assumed you were going to turn right back around to save her…” Shawn’s expression instantly twisted into a mix of fury and shock. Yet, he forced his emotions down and said sternly, “If that’s the case… then this is simply her fate as a family member of a police officer. By sacrificing herself to save those in greater need, she died an honorable death.” Meanwhile, I was sprawled in the freezing mud and water over a dozen meters away from the wreckage of the car. Just two minutes ago, the fire had engulfed the passenger seat. In a desperate bid to survive, I had used a shard of broken glass to slice through my seatbelt with my bare hands, crawling out of the sea of fire with a fractured right leg. At that very moment, what kept me awake even more than the excruciating pain of my broken bone was the death of my heart.

In the short time I'm away at the restroom, the waiter has already cleared half the dishes on the table. My girlfriend and best friend move to a two-seat table by the window, sitting across from each other, completely engrossed in conversation. Neither of them even notices that I've left and come back. "I'm flying to Portside City next week. This hotel has a rooftop pool. Are you in, Captain Clark?" Dylan Humphrey's voice is bright. "If you like it, then sure. It could be a nice getaway." I freeze. That is the same hotel I had shared in our group chat a month ago. Back then, Hayley Clark had replied with only three words, "Stop following trends." Bitterness rises in my throat. Suddenly, I'm reminded of our high school graduation night. The three of us stay up late talking about our futures. Hayley says she wants to become a pilot, and Dylan swears he will be the most handsome flight attendant in the sky. Then, they both turn to me, their eyes shining with expectation. I say, "Then, I'll be an air traffic controller. No matter how high you two fly, I'll be the one guiding you." Now, watching them sit across from each other, chatting and smiling, I suddenly feel disheartened. I don't want to keep waiting for them to land anymore. My control tower is shutting down.

When I was five months pregnant, Greg had missed four months of prenatal checkups because of his highschool sweetheart, Chloe. Now, on the fifth one, he stood me up yet again. Over the phone, his voice sounded cold and irritated. “The baby isn’t just mine, you know. Why can’t you step up as a mother and do a little more? Is the kid going to die without me there?“ I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the hospital waiting room TV, which showed a live broadcast of him smiling tenderly at Chloe. “Okay,“ I whispered. Greg must have noticed something off about my tone because he started to say something else, but I hung up before he could. Right then, the nurse, who had just gossiped about the news, specifically about how Greg had just spent a fortune hosting a massive fireworks display for Chloe, walked over to me. “Ma’am, please head this way for your prenatal checkup,“ she said. I shook my head, my voice calm. “No need. Please schedule me for an abortion next week instead.

Winter came again, and my husband and son broke out in rashes the moment the cold settled in. No doctor identified the allergen. To keep themselves safe, they drew a hard line and moved to a separate house for the season. It did not matter that I slipped and cracked my head open, or that I ended up in the hospital after a car accident. I fought every battle alone. We became strangers who shared a family name, and I became the thing that could kill them. I endured the bitter cold by myself, lonely and aching. I counted the days hoping that spring would bring my family back to me, until I overheard a conversation I was never meant to hear. "Daddy, we only get to see Daphne in winter. Cannot the allergies last a little longer?" Daphne Bullman, my husband's childhood sweetheart. My husband ruffled our son's hair. "All that allergy medicine is not good for you, and Daphne would worry. I will bring you to see her when I can." My son clapped his hands. "Yay! I love the mango candy Daphne gives me in winter, and I get to see her!" Mango. That was the fatal allergen I spent years keeping out of my son's reach. I stood in the freezing wind for a long time before I quietly walked home. Spring returned, and I stopped caring. "Eat whatever you want. If you think I am abusing you, call the police. I do not want custody anyway."

My genius lawyer boyfriend, Shane Falkner, is always white-knighting for my community college bestie, Sabrina Langford. Sabrina can't find a job after graduation, so Shane recruits her into the law firm despite fierce objections. I am tasked with reassuring our annoyed colleagues instead. At the banquet we're holding for our major clients, Sabrina orders all the child-friendly dishes, complete with juice boxes and everything. To win back our clients' trust, I am forced to go out there and get blackout drunk. Every time I cry and make a fuss about it, Shane just responds airily, "Marina, you know I love protecting vulnerable people. Moreover, if it weren't for the fact that you and Sabrina grew up together, I wouldn't have gone so far for an idiot like her." He's had me under his thumb, and I've had to grin and bear it for three years. But that ends today. Shane has forgotten about our anniversary. Instead, he tells me in a frazzled tone, "Your trainwreck of a bestie got in trouble again. I can't believe she misplaced something as important as the IPO filing drafts for Verity Group. She's really dejected, so I'm taking her out to get her mind off things. "Marina, I'm sorry, but I need you to figure something out." Looking at the resignation letter I've already written, I put on a faint smile. "Sorry, Mr. Falkner, but I'm afraid I can no longer help you with that."

My wife's first love—the man who had disappeared ten years ago—finally came back. She still believed I was the one who had torn them apart, and she hated me just as much as she had back then. To make him happy, she withheld the money my mother desperately needed for treatment and said to me, "Honey, I'm not heartless. But you ruined my relationship for money. You brought this on yourself. "Now it's time to pay for what you did. Kneel before Gideon, bow your head a hundred times, and say 'I was wrong' a thousand times. Do that, and I'll give you like, five or six million dollars, so your mom can get the best treatment." To save my mother, I slammed my forehead against the floor until it split open and apologized until my voice gave out. My wife was finally satisfied. She pulled five one-dollar bills from her pocket, tossed them at me, and burst into laughter. "I meant five dollars or six million dollars. You actually fell for it." I cried and begged her to at least give me back the money I had saved. My gravely ill mother needed it. She looked at me with nothing but contempt and kicked me aside. "It's been ten years. I thought you'd grown up by now. Instead, you're still the same. You'd even lie about your own mother being sick just to scam me out of money. You're a disgrace to her." To punish me for what she called my greed, she locked me in a walk-in freezer for ten hours. When I was finally let out, the only news waiting for me was that my mother had died. Then my wife sent me a six-million-dollar transfer. "This money is for your mom. Don't you dare keep it for yourself. I'll check with her myself to make sure every cent goes to her." Without even looking at it, I sent the money back. She never knew that the one who had betrayed her and ran away ten years ago was Gideon. The only reason I agreed to deceive her was to repay the debt my mother owed her family. Ten years had passed. The debt had finally been repaid. And it was time for me to leave.

At my bachelor party the night before my wedding, my wedding ring starts talking to me. "In a few minutes, your childhood friend Christopher will hand you a hangover pill. Once you take it, you'll fall into a deep sleep and be taken into a private lounge. "He'll unlock your phone, take out a multi-million-dollar loan in your name, then hire escorts to stage a scandal that ruins your reputation." It goes on, "On your wedding day, your alleged sex scandal and crushing debt will be exposed. Your fiancee, Annabelle, will call off the wedding. "Your father, who rushes in from out of town, will die of a heart attack. Unable to bear the shock, your mother will jump to her death. "Debt collectors will hunt you down, and you'll contract a sexually transmitted disease. In the end, you'll die alone in a dumpster." That night's party was Christopher Larson's idea, and everyone here is a close friend or family member. I figure I'm just drunk and hearing things. But a second later, Christopher hands me a pink pill. "Take this hangover pill, Marvin. Big day tomorrow. You can't afford to mess it up," he says. He looks genuinely concerned, but my wedding ring suddenly heats up. "Don't trust him! Leave now, or you'll be completely ruined!" I sober up almost instantly and reach out to Christopher. "My phone's dead. May I borrow yours to make a call?" If he had already set a trap for me, there was no way he'd let me walk away. Then, I call my fiancee, Annabelle Sterling. She answers immediately, and her voice is tight with worry. "Chris?" Hearing her say his name like that makes my heart sink. "The wedding's tomorrow. Make sure you take good care of Marvin," says Annabelle. I let out a breath of relief, guilt creeping in. But my ring keeps getting hotter. A beat later, it says, "Annabelle is more than a month pregnant." I freeze in place as a chill runs down my spine.

After my song was cut short at karaoke, I found myself back at the song selection machine. I just had to wait for 28 more songs until it would finally be my turn again. The next song was called "The Answer". My boyfriend, John Aldama, and my best friend, Selena Summers, gave each other a look of mild disdain but decided to sing the duet to prevent an awkward silence. Their voices, one cool and one sweet, complemented each other perfectly. Ever since high school, they'd been neck and neck on the honor roll, always vying for first and second place. Even after joining a top-tier company, they'd constantly bicker over projects. Even years after graduation, the people in our high school group chat were still "shipping" their "love-hate dynamic". No matter how hard I tried, I always remained the forgotten third person, an overlooked backdrop. Listening to them sing, I suddenly felt so tired. I no longer felt like singing the song that I had to wait endlessly for. I quietly deleted the song I'd selected and sent a confirmation to the email that asked me to be relocated abroad for work.

My wife, Evelyn Shaw, is a germaphobe. She makes us sleep in separate rooms, and even our laundry has to be done separately. She also throws out any dishes or utensils I use, claiming they're filthy. On our wedding anniversary, I find a man's tie and a half-smoked cigarette in her spotless car. When I confront her, she casually smooths her hair without even looking at me. "It belongs to a coworker I gave a ride to. He accidentally left it behind." I don't say a word. One call to Claire Bennett, her company's biggest rival, tells me everything I need to know. She recently hired a young male assistant, Adrian Holt. Claire laughs. "Your ice queen is in the break room feeding the guy cake right now. Last I heard, she couldn't keep her hands off him." I hang up and throw my anniversary gift into the trash. Evelyn Shaw, we're done.

The day I'm diagnosed with cancer happens to be the birthday of my wife's adopted son, Logan Smith. Before the party starts, I end up coughing up blood and ruining the cheerful atmosphere. My wife, Rosalie Smith, doesn't take me to the hospital. Instead, she locks me up in the basement. She looks down at me bleeding out on the ground and says coldly, "Xander Kastel, you really know how to pick your timing. Of all days, you had to cough up blood on Lolo's birthday. How dare you do it today?" I beg her to take me to the hospital, but she says she has already consulted the doctor and knows that early-stage cancer can't cause me to cough up blood. She's convinced I'm deliberately putting on an act to get back at Caleb Anderson, her first love. I pleaded desperately. "I am your husband! Rosalie, please take me to the hospital. I promise I'll never show up again." Rosalie's face darkens, and she grabs me by the throat. "Don't play these push-and-pull games with me. As long as you stay here quietly until midnight passes and Lolo's birthday is over, of course, I'll take you to the hospital. Once you've recovered, you'll still be the Smith family's live-in son-in-law." I keep screaming from the agonizing pain I'm in. Rosalie thinks I'm being annoying, so she takes Caleb and Logan to a hotel to celebrate instead. Some time later, she suddenly thinks of me, so she asks her secretary if my surgery has gone well. Her secretary's face pales as he answers in a trembling voice, "Mr. Kastel has… has left with Ms. Kastel."

In my sixth year as a body diver, I finally tracked down my son's body. My husband had just come back from the construction site. That was when he calmly told me the truth. "Asher never died. I was the detective who lied and told you I couldn't find him. "I was also the city's richest man—the one who refused to pay your ransom to save him. "I never went bankrupt, either. Every time I told you I was off hauling bricks at some construction site, I was really just back at the mansion, hiding from the smell of the dead on your skin." It hit me like a blow to the head. I stood there, numb. My brother, Rick Forrest, was the one who spoke next. "That best friend you've been pouring your heart out to online this whole time—that was me. I'm also the one who made you think you'd gotten the kidnappers angry and gotten your son killed. "That's not all. Our parents didn't die in that kidnapping, either. The truth is, they were the kidnappers." Cold flooded through me. Not until I saw my parents standing there, alive, did the pain finally tear a sound out of me. "Why—" My parents' brows furrowed, distant. "It's because you made such a scene! You knew Valerie's position as a false heiress was already humiliating enough, and you still let her get into that car accident that left her unable to have children. "You owe her this much. As long as you stop going after Valerie, we can still be a family." I stood frozen where I was. Right as the pain peaked, a long-unheard chime sounded in my mind—the System, back after all this time. [Host, do you wish to abandon this redemption mission and leave this world?]

Anna Stark spent ten years finally winning Neil Irons's heart—an anonymous admirer bearing unrequited love, now at last Neil's fiancée whom he personally acknowledged. And yet, just two weeks before the wedding, she gave up. "Hey, chief," she said calmly, putting the filled form on the supervisor's desk. "I'm volunteering to transfer to the northwestern research center—just add me to the list." The supervisor looked up in shock behind his computer. "Wait, I thought you were marrying Neil next month!"

After stocking the house for the winter holidays and waiting for my wife to come home, I found an anonymous advice post online. "My lover died suddenly of an illness and left behind a baby boy. My husband is infertile. How can I convince him to raise the child willingly?" Someone in the comments offered a vicious solution. "Easy. Tell your husband you found an abandoned baby beside the road. Say the child feels destined for both of you and awaken his desire to become a father. "Once he believes the baby was sent to him, your desperate husband will treasure your secret child." The calculation behind it was breathtaking. Just as I was marveling at how impossible it is to read a woman's heart, my wife came through the door carrying a bundled infant. "Aaron, look at him. I just found this baby in the alley behind the campus. Somebody left him out there in the middle of winter. "Fortunately, he smiled the moment I held him. I think he was sent to us for a reason. We should begin the adoption process tomorrow."

On our wedding day, right as the officiant told us to exchange rings, Charlotte suddenly leaned in and whispered, "I’ve been sleeping with your best friend." I stood frozen at the altar, completely paralyzed, yet she didn't even blink. She said it so casually, as if she were just talking about the weather. "While you were trying on your tuxedo, we were going at it in the fitting room right next to yours. "He couldn't hold back a groan, and you actually thought he was sick and spent twenty minutes checking on him. "By the time I stepped out to stand next to you, my legs were shaking so hard." All the blood drained from my face. I turned toward my best friend standing below the altar, and he beamed back at me, raising his glass in a proud toast. Just an hour ago, he had slapped my shoulder and told me I was the luckiest guy alive. "Even earlier today, while you were getting your hair styled, I was sitting in his lap. I got so nervous I bit his lip until it bled." Charlotte looked down at the ring resting in her hand before saying indifferently, "Dean, now you know everything. Whether you still want to go through with this wedding is up to you."