Short Romance Stories & Novels

After my father’s death, I decided to divorce my husband, Captain Marcus Hale, and stay in Pine Ridge Village forever. On the first day, I tricked Marcus into signing the divorce papers. On the fifth day, I handed in my resignation to my old unit at Fort Haven. On the seventh day, I cooked a full table of food and said farewell to all my friends. Frowning, Marcus accused me of making the very meal his childhood sweetheart, Julia Summers, hated. I stood up and raised my glass to toast her. From this day on, Marcus and I would have nothing more to do with each other. Half a month later, I saw Marcus returning from a mission in Pine Ridge Village. Only this time, the country evening breeze brought tears to his eyes.

Two months into my cold war with Sean, the lover he’d been keeping finally danced her way right up to me, the real deal. Everyone expected me to react the same way I always had before, kicking up a huge scene to stake my claim. Instead, I looked at the intimate photos of Sean and her in the group chat, smiled, and sent them my blessing. [Looking good. Wishing you two a long and happy life.] The chat went dead silent. Sean must’ve sobered up from his little paradise because in the middle of the night, he drove home and pounded on my door. He was furious. “Do you think this is funny?” However, I only met his gaze calmly. “Honestly, after all these years, none of it is.”

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

I die on my wedding night. When Zachary Gordon receives a call from the police asking him to identify my body, he snorts disdainfully. "Who cares whether she's dead? I'll be there for the funeral." "We're not joking, Mr. Gordon. You should come down here." He glances at the woman in his arms as a hint of impatience flickers in his eyes. "Fine."

My husband, Theodore, was about to take his childhood sweetheart, Rosalie, around the world in a hot-air balloon when I was kidnapped by his enemy. They were about to throw me into a snake pit. I gave up asking Theodore for help and called my father-in-law instead. In my previous life, I begged Theodore to save me, even kneeling in front of the phone camera. Hence, he abandoned the hot-air balloon ride with Rosalie and rushed to negotiate with the kidnapper. Rosalie was all alone and angry. She took another hot-air balloon, but it exploded mid-way, causing her to die on the spot without even leaving behind an intact corpse. Hearing the bad news, Theodore showed a rare calm expression. He seemed to forget about Rosalie's existence and took me on a trip around the world. As we were sailing in Norwol, he suddenly pushed me into the sea. "I should never have saved you. Snake pit? Kidnapper? How could they have had the courage to push you into it? I should've never saved you if I knew it'd kill Rosalie. You should go to hell sooner!" When I opened my eyes again, I had come back to the day I was kidnapped. This time, I chose not to call for help. Humble love would only leave you bruised and battered.

I was feeding my seven-year-old daughter, Lucy Langer, when Robert Langer crashed through the front door, reeking of alcohol. His shirt collar hung askew, and red marks blazed across his neck. "Audrey," he said hoarsely, "someone spiked my drink at the charity gala. But don't worry. I've already had my lawyer handle it." I nodded. After so many years of marriage, I knew he only had eyes for me and our daughter. He never strayed. Or so I believed… until eight months later. While Robert was away on a business trip, his cruise ship caught fire. The news dominated every channel. Clutching a sobbing Lucy, I rushed to the hospital, only to find him swathed in bandages, standing outside the maternity ward. "Becca is pregnant," he murmured. "It was that night at the gala… I didn't think it would happen from just once…" He gulped. "When the fire spread, she saved me. But she… got trapped herself." A newborn's wail pierced the corridor as the delivery room doors opened. Becca White was wheeled out, looking pale and exhausted. She clutched my sleeve and pleaded desperately, "Audrey… my babies can't grow up without a father…"

My husband, James Zeller, and I have established a common-law marriage. We did not have a formal wedding ceremony, nor do we have a marriage license. We also live separately, our lives barely intertwining, because he has a special profession. Therefore, despite being married to him for seven years, we've never met each other's friends and relatives. As his wife, I'm proud of being married to him despite how it pains me. I'm willing to give up the opportunity to study at the National Academy of Sciences to take care of things at home while he works. One day, my son, Jasper Chalder, comes home from elementary school crying. He sobs about not being a bastard child and requests to see James. Greatly distressed, I decide to take him to visit the military base over the new year for a family reunion. However, I don't expect this trip to turn my life completely upside down.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

I have been married to Andrew Connolly for four years, but whenever his gaze meets mine, there is no recognition at all. Even my voice doesn't register. He remembers everyone around him, yet the one person he never remembers is that I am his wife. If I put on a hat, he asks who I am. When I tie my hair up, he assumes I am a new hire at his company. To help him remember, I repeat the same outfit, the same makeup, the same hairstyle. Still, despite my daily presence, he treats me like a stranger. I tell myself Andrew is simply buried in work, that the neglect is accidental, right up until a concert night. I watch him cut through the crowd and embrace his first love, whom he has not seen in years. When the stage suddenly collapses, I seize his arm and beg, "Honey, please save me." Andrew shoves me away, his voice flat and cold. "You're not my wife. My wife is at home." I am crushed beneath the falling debris. Choking on blood, I can only watch as Andrew rescues his first love and walks away. That is when I realize it's not that he can't remember me, he just doesn't love me. The bodyguards drag me out of the wreckage. Later, I spend a month confined to bed with serious injuries. While I am in the hospital, I get a photo of Andrew kissing his first love. The blows land one after another and mercilessly jerk me awake. I am done with love, and I am done with him!

My wife has an emotional breakdown after being violated. She insists I'm the one who orchestrated it, but both our parents know her true love is the actual culprit. Still, they don't object to her insane retaliation. They even have me locked up in a prison abroad. As I'm tormented, she sells my company to help her true love get away scot-free. Ultimately, he's set free, but I die without even having a final resting place. When a judge informs her to collect my body, she sneers and says, "I've had enough of this nonsense. Does he think he can get away with a fake corpse? I won't even bat an eye if his body is flushed down the drain! He's nothing but a disgusting criminal!" Later, she realizes that I've truly died. She's delighted, but her laughter soon turns to tears as she holds my corpse.

I got pregnant after a relationship lasting eight years, only for my fiance to call off the wedding the night before. When I arrived, I found him changing it to a celebration of his son's first month. I heard his parents speak ill of me, "That Rachel Stone really embarrassed us, getting pregnant even before you got married. I refuse to have such an immoral daughter-in-law like her." Several days later, Sean Wickham let his son's mother put on the most exquisite wedding dress to get their marriage registered. "I have a son anyway," he chuckled. "Whatever happens to the thing in your belly ain't any of my business." The illusion of happiness utterly shattered, I left without hesitation, heartbroken. I didn't want this marriage or the child anymore. I’d go back to my real home in the distant north.

On our wedding anniversary, my husband has his intern put on the custom-made wedding gown he prepared for me. "You wouldn't have looked good in a wedding gown with your baby bump, anyway. She's saving us trouble by wearing the gown for you. Think about how kind she is!" Before I can rebuke him, an earthquake happens. I lose my balance and fall to the floor. Instantly, I feel moisture on my legs. At the same time, my husband received a call from his intern. "There are so many frogs here, Mr. Quinn. I'm so scared…" My husband turns to leave, but I grab his pant leg. "Ethan, I—" "It's just a minor earthquake—the ground barely even shook. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. Didn't you hear Chloe crying because she was so scared? Can't you be sympathetic?" He ignores the blood pooling around me and hurries off to comfort Chloe Bennett. That night, they share a passionate kiss under a sky full of fireworks. Meanwhile, my child dies in my belly. It's a pretty good way to end things. Someone like Ethan Quinn doesn't deserve to have his own children.

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

Even after a full decade of marriage, my husband Rudolf and I were as deeply in love as the day we wed—an enviable couple in the eyes of all. On the day of our anniversary, I saw him lifting a little boy into his arms right outside the entrance of our neighborhood. "Daddy! Can you take me to the amusement park this time?" The boy's words were enough to stop me dead in my tracks. I instinctively hid around a corner. "Of course! I'll even take you on a trip." Rudolf smiled warmly and kissed the boy on the forehead. In that instant, something seemed to have been set off in my head, as if years of trust had been shattered at that one moment. Daddy? Upon closer examination, I realized that the boy's features were remarkably similar to Rudolf's. No one could deny they were blood-related. "Your dad's busy with work, sweetheart. Don't cling to him too much," said a beautiful woman standing next to the boy. The cruel moment before me made it clear. The man who swore he would love me forever had been cheating all along.

"I don't want to go with you on this business trip," Lucy Landon said at the dinner table. Her voice was calm, so calm that no one could sense anything unusual. Steven Cooper's trip was set for June 1st. It wasn't their wedding anniversary, nor was it anyone's birthday. Just an ordinary Children's Day. Three days ago, she had stumbled upon a voice message on Steven's phone. A child's soft and childish voice had said, "Daddy, for Children's Day, I want to go to Maldove to see the fishes!"

I'm seven months along with my second pregnancy when a truck almost hits me. My husband threatens the doctor like a maniac. "I'll make all of you retire prematurely if anything goes wrong with my wife!" Before I enter the operating theater, I can't help thinking he's being too anxious. The truck merely brushed past me and made me fall. He doesn't need to be so panicked. However, when I open my eyes again, I find that my belly is flat. I crawl out of bed in a panic and head to the door, where I overhear Lucian Jacobe talking to the doctor. "Mrs. Jacobe wasn't in a major accident, sir. The child could've been saved. Why did you insist on aborting it? It was a baby boy, too." "Jenny will cry if she finds out about me having children with another woman. How can I bear to see her upset? It's not my first time doing something like this, anyway."

Lindsey Johnson asks her fiance's true love, Stephanie Sullivan, to repay her debt. The next day, Jacob Whitaker throws at her a ledger that she had never seen before. Every single expense from their five-year relationship is recorded inside. From small things like two-dollar ice cream to the expensive items like the luxury bags he gave her. Even the costs of hotel stays and condoms are recorded in the ledger. "I'll split half the hotel bills with you. After deducting the 100 grand Stephie owes you, you still owe me 2.08 million. You have one month to transfer the month to my account."

Of the five boys who'd been raised to marry me, Lance Riverford was the one who hated me the most. And yet, he was the one I loved the most. Three times I was reborn, and three times I forced him to be my husband. Each time ended the same way—he and his childhood sweetheart killed me. When I opened my eyes for the fourth time and met that same look of loathing in his eyes, something inside me finally let go. I turned away and chose his rival, Jace Elden, as my husband instead. But at the wedding, Lance demanded with tears in his eyes, "Why did you choose someone else this time? Are you doing this just to spite me?" That was when I realized… he'd been reborn too.

When I was waiting for Theodore at City Hall from dawn to dusk, he was accompanying his first love on a hike. I called him dozens of times, but he rejected my calls instantly each time. He finally picked up on the twentieth call. "Why are you blowing up my phone when you simply didn't see me for a day? Why are you acting so desperate? Sammy's feeling unwell because of her heart and I still need to take care of her at the hospital. We'll talk later about registering our marriage." Ten years of love. This was the 100th time Theodore had left me alone in front of City Hall for his first love. I hung up and calmly tossed the wedding ring away. This marriage? I was done with it.

Samuel Blanton gave me a rare antique every time he asked me to do something or abandoned me. In just two months, I'd collected 94 antiques. Then, the 95th package arrived from the auction house, and with it, a message from his true love, Zara Hill. [Hey, should the invitations for my and Samuel's wedding have patterns or just a solid color? [By the way, the wedding's next month. I really hope you can make it.] I didn't argue or make a scene. I just got a wedding gift ready and sent it to Zara myself. That night, Samuel came into my room. He said he wanted to reward me for not making a scene by giving me a child. On the wedding day, when Zara found out I was pregnant, she ran to the cliff, screaming she was going to jump. The usually cold and proud Samuel groveled before me for the first time, begging me to terminate the pregnancy. Everyone around us was waiting to see my reaction. But I obeyed. That very day, I went to the hospital. Samuel held me tightly, saying, "Ophelia, I'm only marrying Zara out of obligation. Once we divorce in a few months, I promise I'll give you a child again, okay?" But he didn't know… I had decided to leave him.