Pendek Romance Cerita & Novel

To cheer up his pretty assistant, my boyfriend brought her to attend a party. I had to bail him out after he was arrested by the police. The charge? Public indecency after consuming illegal substances. When I arrived at the police station to pick him up, he was still trying to comfort his assistant, paying no heed to the possibility that I might have seen the lipstick marks on his neck. After seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, my boyfriend assumed I was upset and explained impatiently, “Winnie was in a terrible mood that day, and I was just there to keep her company. We didn’t take part in any public indecency! It was the other guests who were messing about!” What a terrible excuse. If it was any other day, I wouldn’t be this calm. This time was different. I will no longer press him for answers like a mad woman. As I walked past the police station entrance, an officer looked at my boyfriend and his assistant, who were still all over each other. With eyes full of sympathy, he asked me, “Your partner?” I glanced at my boyfriend, whose focus was entirely fixated on Winnie, and shook my head. “No, just an acquaintance.” At that moment, Winnie was leaning against him, seeking his comfort. I pulled out my phone and texted my dad silently. “I agree to marry President Lee. I’ll leave the wedding preparation to you guys.” “I’ll be back in five days.”

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.

Rowan Remington finally accepted my marriage proposal.  He told me to dress up, saying he had prepared a surprise for me.  But when I arrived in my finest attire, Rowan did not present himself as the groom.  Turning to my half-sister, Lisa, with a playful smile, he said, “You always complain that weddings are tedious and dull. Today, I’ll show you an interesting one. What do you think?”  Just then, my elder half-brother, Miles, loudly declared, “The wedding is on hold!”  Suddenly, my childhood friend, Nathan Keller hurled a water balloon—prepared in advance—at me and it smashed down on my head, completely drenching me.  Rowan arched a teasing brow at me. “It was just a joke, Tessa. You didn’t actually think I was going to marry you, did you?”  The so-called wedding was nothing more than a farcical performance to entertain Lisa, who was suffering from depression.  As I stood in stunned silence, Rowan chuckled and added, “If you’re that desperate to get married, why not pick someone from the guests and tie the knot right now?”  So, I did.  I walked down the aisle with a new groom in hand.  That’s when they panicked.

On the same day we were registering our marriage, my boyfriend, Levi Salfolk, had someone throw me out of the clerk's office while he led his childhood sweetheart inside. He looked at me nonchalantly. "Rosalie's child can't be illegitimate. I'll marry you once we get divorced." Everyone thought that the lovestruck me would wait for him for another month. After all, I had already waited for him for seven years. However, I went overseas that night, accepting the arranged marriage my family had set up for me and disappearing from his world. Three years later, I accompanied my husband back home to pay our respects to his ancestors. Something came up, and my husband sent someone from the local branch office to pick me up. Unexpectedly, I met Levi, whom I had not seen since I left. "Enough with the fooling around. Come back. Rosalie's child is starting preschool soon. You're in charge of picking up and dropping off the child."

For the 23rd time, I'm left standing at the altar as Jace Larkin hurries off because his foster sister, Celine Keaton, threatens to end her life again. The guests mock me, saying that we'll never tie the knot and attending our wedding will bring bad luck. I tune them out, holding on to Jace's promise that he'll come back and marry me. I buy his promise yet again, only for him to prove me wrong one more time. After I clean up the mess and pacify the angry guests, I reach home in the middle of the night. While passing the study, I hear Jace's voice. "Cece's always been mentally unstable. Of course, I have to stay with her. Regina will never leave me, even if I postpone our wedding a hundred times." Sorry, Jace, but I'll have to disappoint you this time. Blinking back tears, I unlock my phone and text my childhood friend, Clement Halloway. "Let's get married in three days."

I think Micah Walker is the love of my life. I fight hard within my family to secure a grand wedding with him. My parents plan to launch a multi-million-dollar jewelry line called "True Love" on our wedding day. But seven days before the wedding, Micah tells me he has to marry his first love first to honor her late mother's last wish—then marry me afterward. He says impatiently, "For Ariana's filial duty, everything else can be sacrificed. If you can't let go of that money, then go marry someone else right now!" Turns out, in his world, I and everything I have built were always expendable—just some obstacles standing between him and his precious first love. I turn away and call my brother. "Kyle, keep the wedding as planned. Just find me a new groom."

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

After a sudden, brutal breakup, I unexpectedly ran into Pierce Donovan at a hotel—with another woman in his arms. He coldly told me he wasn’t interested in my body. But that all changed when I knocked on his door late at night, wearing something a little more daring. Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms, his voice low and commanding, "Don’t cover yourself. I want to have a good look at you."

My husband has azoospermia. After trying all the options available, I finally conceived. However, my husband is worried my child will hurt his first love's feelings—she had a miscarriage. He tricks me into going for a prenatal checkup. In truth, he conspires with a doctor to induce labor when I'm only five months along. He says, "You must be the one with the problem. Why else is it so hard for us to have children? The baby won't be healthy even if it's born! We can have more children when you're healthier. Julie has just had a miscarriage; I don't want to aggravate her." He doesn't know he has azoospermia. I only managed to conceive this child after trying out IVF countless times and taking countless folk remedies. He will never have a child of his own in this lifetime, and I discover his true colors. I ask for a divorce, and that's when he loses his mind.

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me. I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley. But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath. He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes. "I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!" "Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!" Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave. I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

After my family went bankrupt, my fiancé, Thaddeus Blackwood, firmly broke off our engagement and chose Vivienne Winters instead. It was Sterling Knight who helped me clear my debts and arranged my father's funeral, rescuing me from financial ruin. For the next three years, he remained steadfastly by my side. Just when I believed I had found my salvation, I overheard a conversation between Sterling and his friend the day before our wedding. "Do you really plan to marry Arabella Frost? Aren't you afraid she'll eventually discover that you orchestrated her father's death and her family's bankruptcy?" "Vivienne has already married Thaddeus," Sterling replied. "I might as well marry her. And if she finds out, so what? I paid off her debts and gave her father a proper burial. I've done right by her." Only then did I realize that Sterling had deceived me too. From beginning to end, I was the only one truly invested in this relationship.

I spiked the drink of Daniel Falkner, Belcaster's big shot, three years ago. After that night of madness, he doesn't punish me. Instead, he takes my waist in his hands and drives into me until my legs go weak, calling me "princess", again and again. But just as I'm about to confess, Serena Jarman, the woman he never gets over, returns. For her sake, he lets me get hit by a car, makes me watch Mom's keepsake get left to a stray, and even throws me into jail with his own hands. By the time I'm shattered and boarding a flight to Velport to marry someone else, Daniel is tearing Belcaster apart just to find me.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

After five miscarriages, I seek out a doctor to ask why I can't carry my babies to term. However, I overhear his conversation with my husband when I'm at the door. "The abortion medication you've prescribed is quite effective—she's already had five miscarriages. When can you do a hysterectomy? I can't let Adrianna have my child. "Oh, and give me something to keep a mother and baby safe. Monica is pregnant with my child; I have to make sure she gives birth to a healthy baby." The doctor says, "Adrianna's health has deteriorated over the years, though. It's highly likely she'll never have children." Reynold Scott scoffs indifferently. "So what? It's precisely because I don't want her to have children that I've been making her miscarry! Look, let's end this here. I need to accompany Monica on a shopping spree for the baby." I feel cold all over when I hear this. It turns out the love I've been defending is nothing but a joke.

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

I stare at the email on my screen, unable to move my fingers. Tomorrow is our company's crucial product launch, and I just learn that the patent for the algorithm I spent three years developing is now filed under Matthew Ashford's new assistant, Sophie Bennett. I storm into Matthew's office to confront him. Sophie sits on his desk with her legs crossed, looking completely innocent. She claims that she filled out the form by mistake. "It's just a clerical error. The patent still belongs to the company. What's the big deal?" Matthew stands up from his chair, positioning himself in front of Sophie. I can't believe what I am hearing. "Matthew, this is my research!" "Emma, you're thirty-five. Why are you picking a fight with a twenty-three-year-old intern?" He frowns. Then, he turns to Sophie. "Starting tomorrow, you're the new CTO. Emma needs… some time off." I'm utterly stunned. A decade of marriage and five years dedicated to building a company together have been shattered by a few casual words from him. Thirty minutes later, Sophie posts a photo on social media of herself sitting on Matthew's lap. They are both clinking champagne glasses. "So lucky to have the best boss ever. I'll make sure to be his loyal kitten." Below that, Matthew leaves a comment—three red heart emojis. I shut my laptop and pick up my phone. "Hello. Is this Mr. David Langley from Novara Group of Sundale Valley? This is Emma Whitmore. I've changed my mind. I'm ready to join you." I pause. "And by the way, about that unreleased algorithm upgrade, I have the complete technical blueprint. Make me an offer." Later, I fly to Tallisport with an eight-figure check in hand, while Matthew goes frantic trying to find me.

Isaac Chance and Madeline Snow were once the model couple of Shorestone City and the target of everyone's envy. After getting engaged, everyone thought they would soon walk down the aisle together. However, there is no news of a wedding for six years. In the end, all Madeline gets is the news of Isaac returning to the country with another woman by his side. He doesn't hesitate to hurt her countless times for the woman's sake. When her grandmother is on the brink of death after an illness, Madeline has no choice but to get into a shotgun marriage. After leaving city hall with her marriage certificate, she ponders the situation. It turns out getting married is simple… as long as her husband isn't Isaac.

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

My best friend was a "mistress breakup consultant". I had lent her money to start her business, and her very first job turned out to be breaking up my own marriage. "Jessie, what's the point of a loveless marriage? You've wasted Harold's time for five years. Are you really going to keep clinging to him and making him miserable for the rest of his life?" my best friend asked. I laughed at the self-righteous nonsense she was spouting and had security escort her out. She came right back, though, this time with a so-called "Anti-Mistress Alliance", live-streaming the chaos as they broke into my company. "The one who isn't loved is the real intruder!" "Fight for love at all costs!" They chanted while smashing up my office. I watched them calmly, waiting until they wore themselves out before pulling out a contract. "The 100,000 dollars you borrowed from me has been overdue for six months. If you don't repay it soon, I'll be forced to take legal action. "And, the lab equipment you've destroyed is valued at 5,550,000 dollars. You'll need to compensate me at full price. "Otherwise, I'll see you in court."