Short Romance Stories & Novels

Everyone in Harbor City knows that the city's prince, Brandon Schmidt, is a devoted husband. Countless homewrecker wannabes are dealt with before they can even reach me. But one day, I see Brandon's text conversation with one of his mistresses. "You're going to open up for me tonight." "It's so embarrassing to be doing this on your wife's bed." Meanwhile, my arm is shattered from dealing with one of his competitors. The conversation makes my stomach turn. So be it, then. No one's getting off easy now.

My son has an aortic dissection and needs surgery. My husband is a cardiac expert, but I don't bother calling him. Instead, I take a cab straight to the hospital. In my past life, upon begging my husband, he came home with the ambulance to pick our son up. He also arranged for our son to be admitted. But because he forgot to bring his phone, his childhood sweetheart died of a heart attack when she couldn't reach him. He went missing for three months and suddenly returned one day, looking perfectly normal. He even volunteered to prepare the meal on our son's birthday. It turned out he only wanted to poison the food. He strangled me and cut my neck open. "You forced me to come home to pick our son up. Ciara wouldnt' have died if I'd answered her call that day. You and your son are murderers—you have to pay with your lives!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my son has an aortic dissection. This time, my husband manages to answer his childhood sweetheart's phone. But why is he on his knees before me and begging for forgiveness?

The day I finally secured an investment worth over 20 million dollars, I walked into the office and immediately caught sight of that calculating assistant wearing a smug look as she spread gossip around. According to her, my husband, the CEO, was planning to strip me of my position and exile me to some forgotten branch in Northreach. Contract in hand, I headed straight for the CEO's office. I stood behind my husband and rubbed his temples while joking casually, "You won't believe what I just heard. Apparently, you're sending me off to a branch office. If only they knew we've been married in secret for seven years and are about to make it public." He didn't look surprised at all. He gently pushed my hand away and smiled. "It's not a rumor. Andrea messed up the last project, and the board is breathing down my neck. They want someone sent to Northreach, and they picked her. That place is brutal. She wouldn't survive it. She's not like you. She doesn't have the luxury of failure. If she goes there, her career is finished. She was my junior back in school. I can't let her life fall apart." He paused, then added softly, "Once you come back, I'll announce our marriage. And I'll make sure you get what you've always wanted. A child." I smiled, but it held no warmth. I turned around and walked out without another word. Before I reached the elevator, I made a call to his biggest competitor. "Looking for a vice president? I'm bringing 20 million dollars of funding with me. I only ask for one thing: Don't send me to Northreach."

"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly. Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly. Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now. They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world? After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

On the eve of my wedding, I catch my boyfriend of seven years, Eddy Stark, and my best friend, Jane Holman, going at it in the company break room. All my coworkers crowd outside the glass door, watching the spectacle. "My gosh! That's your boyfriend, right? It turns out…" At the most humiliating moment in my life, Rylen Huff, the CEO who never got along with me, walks over and drapes his coat over my shoulders. Before everyone present, he makes an announcement. "She is my fiancée. Save your nonsense." From that day on, I go from being the company's joke to the CEO's wife who everyone envies. After we get married, Rylen treats me very well. He gives me everything from jewelry and mansion to power. But only one thing never goes as planned—we don't have a child. To give him an heir, I go through injections and egg retrieval again and again. After 99 IVF attempts, I finally get pregnant. But on the day of my prenatal checkup, I overhear his conversation with the doctor. "Mr. Huff, the IVF procedure has already severely damaged her health and body. If she finds out that this embryo is actually Jane's, I fear she may have a mental meltdown." Rylen falls silent for a moment. Then, he says evenly, "I've already given her a life most people could never have. She should feel contented. When she gives birth, I'll tell her that her body was too weak, and the baby didn't make it. "Jane cannot handle the pain and hardship of childbirth. We are childhood friends who grew up together, after all. Of course, I should handle a minor matter like this for her." So the timely rescue and unconditional favor from Rylen were nothing but lies. I immediately schedule an abortion, as I don't intend to give birth to a child that isn't mine. In addition, I won't stay with a man who has never loved me.

Blaire Presley goes to the Carter residence, battered and bruised after being tormented by the three Carter brothers for three days. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter Senior, I've decided to marry Matthew Carter." Olivia Barrymore is surprised. "Are you sure you have the right guy, Blaire? Matt is those three brats' uncle!" Blaire isn't sure, but she has no other choice.

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

My boyfriend of eight years secretly plans the grand wedding I've always dreamed of. Just as I'm overwhelmed with joy, he sends me to a landslide zone to replace his true love. Turns out, the entire wedding is for her. Heartbroken, I walk away. But just as I enter the experimental site, a second landslide hits. At the wedding, he finally panics when news breaks that I've gone missing.

I had spent years paying for Damian Grant’s infertility in every way a woman could. Doctors, treatments, private clinics, and humiliation I swallowed in silence. Then, against every odd, I finally got pregnant. It was the child the Grant family had been waiting for. The miracle Madam Evelyn Grant had prayed for. The one thing Damian had been told he might never have. On the night before our wedding, I saw a local post climbing the trending list. [Another day of being the only girl who gets under my boss’s skin.] In the video, a young woman smiled sweetly at the camera. [My boss is terrifying to everyone else. Cold eyes, bad temper, the whole package. But today, during a meeting, I secretly stepped on his shoe under the table. He actually smiled at me. Then he texted me and told me to behave.] The comments were full of people swooning. [That has to be love. A man like that only softens for one woman.] [Look closely. There must be some little detail on him that belongs only to you.] I scrolled down and saw the influencer’s reply. It was a photo of a dark silver tie clip pinned right over her chest. [This is the gift he gave me. He said whenever I see it, I should think of him.] I stared at that tie clip for a long time. It was the engagement gift I had spent a month polishing by hand for Damian. And inside it, there was still a tiny heart made from his fingerprint and mine.

On the day of our engagement, just because Madison Calder wants to eat the ravioli my fiance Nicholas Olsen made, he decides to leave without hesitation. I can't help but try to stop him, but he slaps me across the face. "It's just an engagement party—we can have another one. What if Maddy starves?" Even my brother Brandon Lewis scolds me for being unreasonable. "You're older than Maddy. Can't you be more understanding?" I say nothing more and choose to let go and leave. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum and ignore me. They even clear their schedules just to take Madison on a vacation. It isn't until half a month later that they think to contact me, only to discover I have already joined a classified government weapons research program that will last ten years. Moreover, I have decided never to come home again. They completely panic.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Cole Hartness has abandoned me in the snow mountain for a week. By the time the search-and-rescue team finds me, I'm practically on my deathbed. Cole remains high and mighty even when surrounded by the others. "Rach is kind enough to forgive you even though you almost killed her in the snow mountain. If it wasn't for her pleading for your sake, you'd be staying here for another week. "Our engagement banquet shall be delayed. We'll only proceed with it once Rach makes a full recovery." Cole is already prepared for my impending tantrum. After all, he knows that I've been looking forward to the engagement banquet for a long time. But I reply obediently, "Okay." For a few moments, Cole finds himself stunned. "You owe Rach this much! Once she's done recovering, we'll get engaged! Stop being so unreasonable—" "Cole, I'd like to rest for a while," I cut him off before closing my eyes tiredly. What Cole doesn't know is that I've already decided to leave him the moment he makes the decision to ditch me in the mountain. That is, if I can survive the avalanche.

On the day my CEO boyfriend, Benjamin West, and I go register our marriage, his manipulative female assistant, Chelsea Miller, suddenly hands over her own completed application to the clerk first. Just like that, the marriage certificate that is supposed to belong to me and Benjamin becomes one hers and his instead. Taken aback, I anxiously ask what is going on. But Chelsea suddenly drops to her knees dramatically and cries in despair, "Giselle, this is all my fault! My child needs a local address to enroll in school. If it hadn't been for that, I would never have resorted to a fake marriage with Benjamin." She even sobs inconsolably and threatens to smash her head against the wall so as to make it up to me with her death. Benjamin is usually clear-headed and can easily distinguish right from wrong. But this time, not only does he not defend me, but he even slaps me in public! He fumes, "Chelsea is a single mother. She's only doing this for her child. Do you really have to be so petty? It's just a marriage certificate. Once her child gets into school, I will divorce her. Can't we register our marriage a little later? Is it necessary to back her into a corner?" "Hurry up and apologize to Chelsea. Then, give half of your salary to her as compensation. If you cooperate, I can lend you the marriage certificate for Chelsea and me so you can take some photos and show off in the family group chat. Otherwise, forget about marrying me." I laugh humorlessly. "Then let's not register our marriage at all." Not only do I no longer want the marriage certificate, but I also don't want him anymore.

My fiance told me, "When you grow flowers more colorful than Dimonous roses, we'll get married in a rose garden." With that as my goal, I worked day and night to care for the roses. Until one day when his first love said she wanted to see a rain of roses, my fiance shoveled 50 acres of my roses to make her smile. "Jeffrey, will Audrey be mad at us?" Jeffrey took out a ten-karat diamond ring from his pocket and knelt on one knee. "It doesn't matter. The only person I love is you." Pain pierced my heart. I called home, "Dad, if I break up with him, is the offer still open? Can I still inherit the family fortune?"

The year of my college entrance exams, I gave up my acceptance to Harvard for James Carter. But after five years into our relationship, I ended it. Outside the dorm building, I caught him holding Sarah Williams, who was dripping in designer labels, locked in a passionate kiss. James smirked, "You're just a simple farmer. What kind of life could you possibly offer me?" But he seemed to forget that I had bought him everything - from his tailored Tom Ford suit to his Rolex watch. Heartbroken, I walked away. If someone else wanted to be a doormat for him, they could be my guest - I was done. Later, I focused on growing my agricultural business, eventually expanding into space farming. That's when the media uncovered my true identity as the heiress to a multi-billion dollar fortune. Mr. Williams groveled, forcing Sarah to kneel beside him, begging me to consider a business partnership. James, his eyes red from crying, grabbed my sleeve and said he regretted everything.

On my wedding night, Sean Boswell was with his first love when I suffered a miscarriage as my kidnappers tortured me. I begged endlessly for him to save me, only for him to laugh, "You were just demanding a divorce in the morning, and now you're faking a kidnapping so that I'd come back? Is that the only thing you can do?" Eventually, when I gave up and stopped clinging on being Mrs. Boswell, he chased me to the airport, pleading with a crack in his voice, "Just stay, Anna. Let's make things how it used to be."

At her lavish engagement party, Charlotte Ashford learns that her fiancé Connor has been cheating for three years with Sophia, the sister she loved most. When their betrayal unearths old lies, stolen memories, and the truth behind her parents' final moments, Charlotte cuts them out, rebuilds her life, and leaves Connor to face the regret he thought she would never make him feel.

After six years of dating, Selena Yane is about to marry Zachary Xenakis. However, her long-lost younger sister is found and brought back to the family. While Selena tries her best to make it up to Lucine Yane, Lucine doesn't appreciate her efforts. Not only does Lucine accuse Selena of being jealous and stealing their parents' love, but she even sets her sights on Zachary. With everyone standing against Selena, even Zachary advises her, "Lucine's about to marry into the Chiton family soon. It's only right that we make it up to her as best as we can." Hence, he even takes a family photo with Lucine and buys a necklace for her—the limited-edition necklace that should have been Selena's. He then abandons Selena on a deserted road, where she nearly becomes food for the wild animals. Even so, Zachary still feels like he owes it to Lucine. It isn't till the day of the wedding that Zachary finally learns it isn't Lucine marrying into the Chiton family. It's Selena. He tries desperately to stop the wedding convoy, but Selena doesn't even look back once.

My husband's childhood sweetheart is gravely ill. She says her only wish is to die in his arms. So, she boldly moves into our marital home. I demand an explanation for this, but my husband only snaps at me. "Why are you holding this against her when she already has one foot in the grave? Can't you be more magnanimous?" I sneer at that. Half a month later, the paparazzi catch me coming and going from Novak Group's heir's villa. My husband demands an explanation with bloodshot eyes. I imitate his previous response. "Why are you holding this against him? Can't you be more magnanimous?"

When James Chapman and I first got together, I was a regular student while he was one of the most popular guys in school. Five years down the road, I'm still a regular woman. James' attitude toward me has changed drastically, though. He frequently complains about my appearance. I know it's because his true love is back in the country. He misses our fifth anniversary because of her. His true love makes fun of me for being ugly to his face, so he orders me to get cosmetic surgery at her newly opened clinic. He wants me to use my fanbase to make her business boom. "You're so ugly that you'd be the perfect person to prove Barbara's skills… if she can actually make you look better, that is. We're all friends, aren't we? What's wrong with lending her a hand? Stop being so petty!" Barbara Simpson kills me—I die on the operating table in her inhumane clinic. James thinks I go missing because I'm just throwing a tantrum, but he realizes he's wrong when he finds my mangled body in the basement. The diamond ring he put on my finger is still there, too.