Short Romance Stories & Novels

I was dumped because of my weight. My stepmother tried to comfort me, saying, "It's okay, it's okay. A little extra weight is good." I watched as my graceful sister took my place and married my fiancé. Meanwhile, I was sent abroad to be "fattened up like a pig." I barely escaped with my life and endured unimaginable hardships. Now, those who hurt me should, at the very least, face justice for their actions.

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.

In my previous life, my girlfriend's childhood friend impersonated a rich heir and messed around with the fake power he had. I exposed him, and he crashed his car into me. In my final moments, my girlfriend's sister begged on her knees, pleading for my girlfriend's aid, hoping she could save me, but my girlfriend did nothing. "He wouldn't do that. Zacharias is beyond this. He would never dirty his hands for a nobody like this guy. He might be my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean he can do anything he wants. He'd better know his place." My girlfriend's sister remained on the ground for three days. In the end, Zacharias dragged her away, violated her, and killed her. Even at my dying breath, my girlfriend was still covering up for her childhood friend. She refused to believe Zacharias hit someone with a car and violated her sister. And then I was reborn. This time, I did not beg and plead for my girlfriend to give me a moment of her time. I called my brother instead. "Hey? Yeah, it's me. Some bastard impersonated me and is dragging my name through the mud. I need you to take that guy out. Also, I'm not marrying Annabelle Lawson. I'm taking her sister instead." I gave the Lawsons a lot of resources so they could grow, and what did I get in the end? An ungrateful woman who would leave me stranded and dying all for another man. With all their resources pulled, Annabelle and her childhood friend would be saying goodbye to their good old days and hello to their personal hell.

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.

While I was in the middle of getting intimate with my boyfriend, Hendrick West, a sudden burst of laughter came from under the bed. A chill ran straight through me. I shoved Hendrick away, scrambling to get up and check, but he pushed me right back down. "You're spacing out at a time like this? Guess you don't get to leave this bed today." I didn't question it. I let myself get pulled back in, eyes slipping shut as I tried to relax. Then the bedframe slammed loudly from underneath. I yelped and shrank under the blanket. A second later, his best friend burst out from under the bed, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. "No wonder you've been ditching us lately," Linda Fairbank said, grinning. "If I had such a horny girlfriend, I'd forget my friends, too!" The humiliation hit so hard that my face went pale. But Linda didn't care. She reached over and started tugging at my blanket. "He won't stop going on about how soft and full you are. What are you hiding for? Let me take a look." Hendrick finally stepped in, trying to stop her when she went too far. Linda just smacked his bare backside without hesitation. "I've been stuck under that bed forever waiting on you," she said lazily. "And instead of taking care of me first, you're busy standing up for someone else?" Without missing a beat, Hendrick took her calf into his hands and started massaging it. She shot me a smug, challenging smile. I picked up my phone and called Hendrick's mother. I said evenly, "Julie, are you aware that your son lets other people run his life like this?"

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.

For our ninety-ninth engagement ceremony, Julian booked us a skydive. He said he wanted to tell me he loved me at thirty thousand feet. My chute didn't open. I got tangled in a big tree. I survived, yet suffered multiple fractures all over my body. In the ward, I accidentally saw a message on the screen of our jump instructor's phone. It was addressed to Julian, and it carried a video. The video showed someone tampering with my chute before we boarded. So the "accident" was Julian's idea? I dragged myself out of bed on crutches, every bone in my body screaming, ready to confront him. I made it as far as the hallway. He was already there, talking to someone, and the moment I saw the other man, the floor tilted under me. The man across from him was the same driver who'd hit me with his car the night before our last engagement. The hit-and-run that should have killed me. "Mr. Veil, if you ever need me again, please reach out." Julian's voice was flat, almost tired. "There won't be a next time. I've tried everything I can think of. The engagement can't be postponed anymore." "And the woman you actually love, sir?" "I'll keep loving her," Julian said. "But Ada is the one I marry. Her mother gave my father a kidney. That's the debt. I have to pay it." I stood there shaking, and the truth rearranged itself behind my eyes. The camping trip he had planned, where I got lost and nearly died of hypothermia in the woods. That had been him. The vitamin C he had handed me, the one that put me in the ICU. Him too. And this time — the skydive, thirty thousand feet, “I want the sky to witness our love”. All of it. Every single one of those accidents was him trying to delay the wedding. But Julian, I thought, I could save you the trouble. The next morning I accepted an offer that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks: an invitation from a world-class orchestra on the other side of the planet.

On the day I was declared pregnant, I ran into my husband in the ob-gyn. He was with his long-lost love for a prenatal checkup. "I'm not going home tonight. As you can see, I have business to attend to," Lawrence said quietly as he left with an arm wrapped around Melissa. I fell silent and booked an abortion surgery. Everyone around us thought I was a simp for Lawrence. They thought I wouldn't leave, no matter how badly he mistreated me. He had the same thought. No one knew that I only married him to repay a debt. That debt was now repaid. Ten years was up, and I could finally end this abominable marriage.

On the day my boyfriend gets engaged, I'm locked in the bedroom even though I'm supposed to be with him. By the time I make it to the venue, I see him passionately kissing his first love. When I confront him, he scoffs. "Kirsty’s a wealthy heiress who can help with my career. Isn't being my girlfriend enough for you?" With my answer loud and clear, I turn and call home. "Mom, Dad—about that arranged marriage you mentioned... I'm in." The day he marries Kirsty Bainbridge is also the day I marry my alliance partner. And the moment he sees me in a wedding dress, he completely loses his composure.

After my husband cheats, my relatives advise me to be tolerant and forgiving. Why? Because my husband's mistress is pregnant, and I'm infertile. Even his parents hurry to our house in the middle of the night to say, "Don't worry—we won't let that woman step foot in this house. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours." Is that so? I sneer as I look at a medical report. Perhaps the child will have something to do with me, but it definitely won't have anything to do with my husband.

The night before the wedding, I'm about to share the news of my pregnancy with Chester Miller when I see Giselle Thorne sitting in his lap intimately. I'm about to storm in and confront them when I notice a man standing beside them. That man looks exactly like Chester, my boyfriend. I freeze, holding my breath as their voices carry clearly through the room. "Chester, this is ruthless. You actually proposed to her. From what I know, Miranda poured so much effort into this wedding," Giselle says. Chester snorts. "Giselle, she ruins your work and costs you the chance to win. I can't wait to see her, all dressed in her wedding gown and beaming with joy, only to watch me walk down the aisle holding your hand. Just thinking about it gives me a thrill." My eyes widen. It's clearly Giselle who has threatened me to hand over my work, and when she fails, she tears up her own painting in fear of losing the competition. Before I can react, the man who looks like Chester suddenly speaks. "Chester, who's walking down the aisle with her—you or me?" Chester chuckles. "Of course I am. Felix, have you forgotten? Miranda belongs to you only at night." In that instant, I finally understand why Chester Miller is cold by day and passionate by night. It turns out they aren't the same person at all. He and Felix are twin brothers. I clutch the pregnancy report tightly, pressing it against the doorframe as I glare at the three of them through the crack. "I won't let any of you get what you want," I vow silently.

Though Micheal loved me deeply, When he was deceived by Ruby's lies,He lost the ability to distinguish right from wrong. He believed that I had killed his grandfather for the inheritance and that I had slept with other men and was pregnant with that man's child.So he cruelly subjected me to humiliation again and again. When he personally pushed me into the abyss, all the love turned to ashes—never to return in this lifetime...

After being secretly married to me for five years, my husband, a famous actor, suddenly reveals his relationship on his Twitter account. Promotional accounts find out who I am and make me out to be a woman who refuses to let the relationship die. My husband's fans criticize and mock me all over the Internet, but I'm unfazed. My husband's the one who cheated on me, yet he's acting like he's deeply in love with another woman. Does he think I'm nothing but a regular businesswoman? Sometimes, some people get ahead of themselves because they forget their roots. I bet he's forgotten who funded his success!

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."

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.

After my husband died in a car accident, I worked tirelessly running a small restaurant to raise my son, Henry. Right before Henry's wedding, I won eight million in the lottery. Thrilled, I decided to sell the restaurant and finally enjoy retirement. So, I called to tell Henry about selling the restaurant, his usually polite fiancée turned hostile. "You're not expecting us to support you, are you? We've barely started working!" She even warned Henry, "If you spend any of our money on your mom, the wedding's off!" Henry argued with her but then reassured me, promising, "You've worked hard enough, Mom. I'll take care of you." Feeling pretty good, I planned to give him two million to start a business. The next day, I got a call saying Henry had been in a serious car accident and urgently needed fifty thousand for surgery. I sent the money immediately, but afterward, Henry vanished. Desperate, I braved a storm to find him in his city, only to walk into a wedding at some fancy hotel. There's Henry, giving a toast and calling another woman "Mom." And, oh, sitting beside her? My "dead" husband from ten years ago.

I started calling my brother "Mr. Quinn" and my childhood friend "Mr. Webb". They frown and ask why I'm being so formal with them. I smile faintly in response. "Because I think you would rather be associated with Vanessa Quinn." They scold me for being unreasonable. "Vanessa is about to marry a man in a coma for you, and her whole life will be ruined. The only reason we treat her so well is because you owe her." But what they don't know is that the one marrying a man in a coma this time isn't Vanessa. It's me—Willow Quinn.

When my boyfriend hit the elevator button for my best friend's floor by mistake for the ninety-ninth time, he shot me an accusing look. "Why didn't you remind me? Forget it. Since we're already here, I might as well replace Gem's light bulb." I froze, then forced a thin smile. It was that line again. "Since we're already here." Ever since Gem Shaw moved into the apartment upstairs a year ago, my boyfriend Simon Lawson, had pressed the wrong floor every single time. When we were supposed to watch a movie together, he carried the milkshake to Gem's door and knocked. When my fever wouldn't break and I asked him to bring me medicine, he brought it to Gem's place instead because she had cramps. Our date for two became a movie for three, and my fever medicine became painkillers. Even on my birthday, he carried the cake to Gem's place. "Since we're already here, might as well celebrate your ten years of friendship." "Since we're already here, I might as well fix Gem's clogged drain for her." As I watched him walk into Gem's apartment without looking back, I silently pressed the close-door button. He had already forgotten that today was the day my lease ended, and it was also the day I was moving out. Since he was already here, he didn't need to come back to me.

Ever since my CEO husband returned from his business trip, he's been acting strange. His hugs are stiff, and his kisses are empty. Even when we're intimate, something just feels off. When I ask him why, he just smiles and says he's tired from work. But everything falls into place the moment I see his first love stepping out of his Maybach, her body covered in hickeys. That's when I finally give up. I don't argue or cry. I just smile… and tear up the 99th love coupon. Once, he wrote me a hundred love letters. On our wedding day, we made a promise—those letters would become 100 love coupons. As long as there were coupons left, I'd grant him anything he asked. Over the four years of our marriage, every time he left me for his first love, he'd cash in one. But what he doesn't know is that there are only two left.

Benjamin Spencer took up the responsibility of raising Yvonne Johnson when her parents died during a holiday on the cruise. He took care of her, nurtured her, and gave her the care she needed. As time passed, Yvonne developed romantic feelings for Benjamin which he later found out. Astonished and dismayed, he decided to send her away. Five years later, she came back with a kid. What would be waiting for them in the future?