Short Romance Stories & Novels

My boyfriend, Jacob Torrance, claimed he hated being touched. Five years together, and all I got were stiff hand-holds and the rare side-hug. Even in bed, he kept his distance. I figured he was just emotionally shut off. Then he dropped this: he wanted a kid—with his mentor's daughter. "Take it as a sperm donation," he said. "Dr. Lynn asked me before he died. Wendy's got no one else." I smiled. "You don't have to explain. I support you." When you're over someone, there's no point fighting about what's right or wrong.

After being reborn, I stopped preventing Rachel Jackson from having any contact with her childhood sweetheart, Logan Cole. She gave Logan all her salary to pursue his dream, while I used the money I earned through hard work to invest. She got pregnant and gave birth to a child for Logan in the hospital, so I bought a train ticket to leave the small town. Later, she said she would agree to marry me as long as I agreed to adopt Logan's child. Unfortunately, I had already made my first million dollars by relying on the memories of my previous life. In this life, I chose to fulfill their wishes and enjoy a good life myself.

On the day of the company’s annual meeting, Victoria Quinn brought a man onstage and publicly announced that he was the newly appointed vice president. All eyes in the room instantly turned to me. Mr. Lane looked at me with undisguised mockery. “Ms. Quinn, Mr. Cabell has been with the company for so many years. How did this promotion skip over him?” Victoria smiled casually. “Mr. Cabell is a pillar of the company. He’s most effective staying at the grassroots level.” I knew she was certain I would not object and that I would not leave her. When I glanced at the new vice president, I understood why. He looked exactly like her first love from college, the one who had died in an accident. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. I ripped off my ID badge, tossed it in front of Victoria, and said, “Ms. Quinn, I quit.”

My husband, Trent Bradford, is a paranoid supermale who has only had eyes for me just because I saved his life during an accident. Using his status and money, he had my former fiancé sent abroad before forcing me into marrying him. After that, he forbade me from having any sort of contact with other men, even going so far as to make me wear a bracelet with a tracker embedded inside. Even so, he would shower me with nothing but love and would not tolerate anyone hurling insults at me. For example, he cut off ties with his elder sister, Lucy Bradford, and sent her away to a slum because she said I reeked of poverty. On one occasion, he even attacked Tess O'Neil, his childhood friend, and poured wine all over the latter for her purposely spilling some on me prior. Still, I couldn't bring myself to love him despite all he's done. In the end, he decided to undergo a reverse vasectomy so that he could make me stay. However, Lucy barged into our villa with a bunch of people on my first trimester. She wanted to make me lose my baby and said I was a disgrace to the family. Fortunately, Trent showed up when I was most vulnerable. Holding the evidence that Tess gave her, Lucy said, "Step aside, Trent! That baby inside of her isn't yours, but another guy she's been having an affair with! I have taken care of her for you!"

The court was going to announce its verdict. My fiancee, Yvonne Quinton, told me to stop pleading not guilty and just sign the confession papers. "I know you're innocent, but Christopher's frail. I can't let him go to prison." She held my hand and cried her heart out. "This is for your own good, Shawn." I signed the confession papers. In my previous life, I refused to take the fall for Christopher Welson. In the end, I was sent to prison anyway. The furious Yvonne sent her men to torture me until I became sterile. Now I had a second chance in life. She could have her wish. The next day, the whole world found out I'd leaked top business secrets, and Christopher was the eyewitness. "Yeah, it's him! I saw him sneaking into the Leidermann Group!" The court opened its session in the afternoon, but the plaintiff, Rachel Leidermann, dropped all charges. To everyone's shock, she took out a diamond ring and asked. "Will you marry me this time around, Shawn?"

The night I find out I'm pregnant, my family's villa suddenly goes up in flames. I endure the suffocating smoke and run the risk of being disfigured as I run to my son's bedroom. However, it's empty. Just then, I hear his excited exclamations outside the window. "Monica, you look so cool when putting out fires! I bet you'll get first place in this upcoming Firefighter Challenge!" I'm about to head downstairs to lecture him when a wall collapses and crushes me. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I hear my stern, stoic husband praise Monica Sloan for her courage. If I'm guessing correctly, my husband and son have started this fire to please her. I stare at the door, which is so close and yet so far. I send out one final text before dying of asphyxiation.

My cancer relapses in the middle of the night. I beg my husband to take me to the hospital, but he turns and leaves to be with his true love. Before leaving, he says, "Your acting is getting more believable." All I get in return for a decade of my love is a broken heart. Later, his true love gets in an accident and needs to be operated on. I decide to let go and give them the happy ending they always want, so I donate my heart to her. My husband has always detested me, but he loses his mind after my death.

My husband, Michael Collins, has offered to buy his childhood sweetheart, Natalie Sweeney's virginity for ten million dollars so that she can afford to treat her cancer. I'm about to stop him from doing so when he begins berating me instead. "Natalie has always been prideful since young. If I were to give her money outright, she'd think that I was giving it to her out of pity. It'll bruise her ego instead. "Can you please be more sympathetic toward her? Must you feel jealous over such a small thing?" Instead of replying to Michael, I just smile and nod in agreement. What Michael doesn't know is that I, an infectious disease specialist, have already picked up on Natalie's weird symptoms. She doesn't have cancer at all—she actually has late-stage AIDS infection.

After a heartbreak, my friend introduced me to a cycling club. I didn't expect what seemed like an ordinary cycling night to have such a hidden, unspeakable thrill. As I watched my friend interact with a male member, my gaze faltered, and my heart raced. I couldn't help but wonder if I might try something like that too. Because... I'd been waiting for a moment like this for far too long.

An unscrupulous company discharges toxic wastewater into the river, causing my whole family to be poisoned because we rely on that river for survival. Everyone in my family, including my aunts and uncles, lives in the same village. We're all waiting for an urgent antidote delivery to save our lives. My boyfriend is Harrison Somers, and his company is the only one with the antidote. So, I ask him for it. He agrees to come but doesn't show up after a long time. Ultimately, my family members die after being tormented by the toxic wastewater because they don't have the antidote. Meanwhile, Harrison shows up at the hospital with his childhood sweetheart because she accidentally sliced her finger while peeling a fruit.

I had once been the woman Theo Bennett would have risked his life to marry. For six years after our wedding, he treated me like his entire world. He even had a matching tattoo carved into his lower abdomen, identical to mine, as proof of his devotion. But in the seventh year, he coldly demanded that I make a full-body model for his kept woman. "Catherine," he said, his voice sharp with contempt, "this is the price you pay for lying to me about being my savior. You know my tastes better than anyone. Make sure you replicate Hannah's body temperature. She's pregnant. I don't want to hurt her." Hannah Moore lay limp in Theo's arms, laughing so hard her shoulders shook. "How pathetic, Catherine," she mocked. "I'm pregnant, so I can't be with Theo. And yet he'd rather order a model of me than lay a finger on you. Once this one wears out, I guess I'll have to trouble you to make a few more copies of me." Only then did I understand. Theo had mistaken Hannah for the woman who once saved his life. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't argue. I simply turned around and dialed Sebastian's number. "Sebastian," I said calmly, "Theo is having an affair. I want a divorce."

Five years ago, Cyrus Parker cried as he begged me to let his childhood sweetheart, Paige Gallagher, give birth to his child. I agreed, but soon I named my conditions. Paige and her child were to be sent abroad, never to return to this country. At the same time, Cyrus needed to compensate me with half of the Parker family's assets. Everyone called me a materialistic wrench who had her eye on the Parkers' wealth this whole time. As for Cyrus, he'd rather make an enemy out of the entire Parker family just so he could protect that child. Five years later, when I go to a neighboring city on a business trip, I stumble upon a lost boy. So, I take him to the police station and have him contact his family there. The police officer dials the phone number that the boy is able to recite for him. Soon, I hear a familiar voice coming from the phone. "Don't be scared now. I'll come over and pick you up right away." In less than half an hour, Cyrus, who's supposed to be in a business meeting that's taking place thousands of miles away, rushes into the police station. I meet his gaze from my seat on the bench, leaving him stunned. A smile appears on my face as I get up from the bench. "I didn't even know you'd sired another son with another woman behind my back, Cyrus. It seems that you won't be able to keep the other half of your wealth now."

Ten years ago, the Harrington family went through a home invasion. My mother, a maid, shielded Liam with her life. Holding my hands tight, Liam promised, "Andrea, don't worry. I'll protect you forever." I believed him. Our bond grew naturally, and we had a beautiful daughter together. Then, she was diagnosed with leukemia. In her last days, all she wanted was to spend one birthday with her dad. I called him, desperate to make it happen. "Millie doesn't have much time left. All she wants is one birthday with you. Can you come?" His voice on the other end went icy. "Really? This your latest stunt? Using your dead mom wasn't enough, now it's our daughter for pity? Disgusting." I tried to deny it, but he cut me off. "Don't mess with her head. Learn from Vivian—she's got a real heart." That night, our daughter passed away. Later, Vivian posted on social media: [Finally taking that couples' trip someone promised me!] I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just texted Liam: [We're done.]

At our bachelor party, Harry Cole, my fiance and I played Truth or Dare with his friends. We spun the bottle, and it stopped in front of Joanna, a woman he had known since childhood. The dare was to do the deed with the person placed right next to you, and Harry had been sitting beside her the entire evening. Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly said, “Why don’t you just pick Truth instead of Dare?” Joanna, however, did not back down. She sent me a look full of contempt and replied, “Don’t be such a prude, Suzie. It’s not that big of a deal. If I don’t mind, why should you?” She then looked at Harry. “Do you mind, Harry?” Everyone around us started cheering them on. Someone said, “Suzie can’t have fun to save her own life. If Harry doesn’t want to, I will gladly do it. Pick me, Joanna!” I grabbed Harry’s hand and turned to leave, but he flung my hand off. “What about Joanna? She has no one to help her if I leave. We’re about to get married, Suzie. Can’t I have one last night of freedom?” After saying that, he pinned Joanna under him, and his friends just cheered even more. I stared at him and Joanna. At that moment, I no longer saw a future for us.

Yvonne Chapman risks her life to save Marcus Cunningham. She loses her hearing in the process and ends up being mocked and insulted by his friends. Later, she runs the risk of becoming brain-dead when she insists on undergoing surgery—she wants to regain her hearing. The surgery is successful. She plans to share her joy with Marcus. However, he calls his first love's name when they're in bed together. It turns out he's never forgotten her. Yvonne's love for him dies. She realizes there are more things in life for her. She goes abroad, leaving everything behind, including Marcus.

My wife, Rosalind Judd, has been tearing up our marriage certificate 99 times in the past ten years of our marriage. This is her usual tactic to make me apologize and make amends. The first time, I transfer 100 thousand dollars for Rosalind to come back from her travel abroad with her childhood friend, Jackson Lane. The tenth time, she ruins the anniversary I have prepared meticulously and forces me to immediately help him get back to work. The 50th time, she humiliates me in front of my client during the day and forces me to sign over the transfer agreement to a villa at night, while she has a candlelit dinner with Jackson. ... Now, for the 100th time, she forces me to transfer my company shares. Staring at the love bites on Rosalind's collarbone, I suddenly chuckle. Then, I board the plane decisively. This time, I no longer want her.

I married the same man nine times. And each time, he left me for his first love, divorcing me nine times as well. The first time we parted, I lost control and threw all his belongings out the door. By the fourth divorce, I begged him to leave his luggage behind out of fear he might never return. The eighth time, I had learned to obediently pack his things, careful not to upset him. My breakdowns, my pleas, and my obedience always brought him back to me. Each time, he honored his promises. And each time, we divorced again, just like before. Until this time. This time, I packed my own things and left without telling him. A month from now, I will be gone for good.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.

It was our seventh year of marriage when my husband, Joseph Lowe, brought my best friend, Teresa Shaw, to my ward. And they were the picture of a perfect couple. I gave them my most genuine blessing. "You two make the perfect match." Joseph tossed an agreement in my face. An asset transfer. He demanded that I give Teresa everything I had. I took the papers and signed my name without wasting a moment to think. Teresa laughed happily, pleased with my obedience. She then hugged Joseph and said, "Thanks for taking care of Joseph for me, Selina. Oh, there's the divorce papers, too. How about…" I noticed the look of impatience in Joseph's eyes, so I snatched the papers from Teresa's hand. "Yeah, I'll sign them all."