Tragic Love Regret Short Stories & Novels

After losing a game of truth or dare, my fiancé went to City Hall and married another woman. I had called him forty-seven times. In the end, the only answer I got was Seraphina’s Instagram story. In the photo, she and Vincenzo were holding a brand-new marriage certificate. She was smiling like she had won, and he was wearing the white shirt I had ironed for him that morning, his fingers casually pinching her cheek. One minute later, he called me. “Elena, don’t make this bigger than it is. It was just a game. Give me thirty days. I’ll divorce her, and then we’ll get married like we planned.” He thought I would forgive him the way I always had for the past three years. But this time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I simply liked Seraphina’s post and commented, Congratulations. Then I took off my engagement ring and left New York. He thought I was just throwing a fit. Only when his calls stopped going through, and his men searched the entire city without finding me, did he finally panic. But he had no idea. The Elena who loved him had died the moment he married someone else.

I was Alpha Adrian’s mate, his Luna, and the woman who held his pack together for ten years. Then he decided Bianca needed “protection.” Protection meant giving her his name in front of the Pack Council. It meant letting her stand at his right hand, wear the Luna jewels, and let her daughter call him Daddy while our son waited for him at home. He called it duty. He called it temporary. He expected me to understand. I did. I understood that every time he had to choose, he chose someone else. So I stopped begging for the place that was already mine. I took our son, walked into the severance ritual, and tore our mate bond out by the roots. Adrian thought I would come back once his guilt caught up with him. But by the time he realized what he had lost, I was already free.

For six years I was locked in the pack's lightless dungeon, bled day after day to keep the Alpha alive. The day they finally dragged me out, I was barely breathing. But the Alpha just looked at me and said, "My poison was actually cured within the first six months. It's just that the moonflower in Selene's garden needs she-wolf blood to bloom — it helps her conceive. Your blood wasn't wasted." My brother Damien spoke like he was doing me a favor. "We've known all along. You bullied Selene for years. Call this a small punishment." My parents stood off to the side, looking at me with open impatience. "We were going to keep you locked up longer. But Selene miscarried because of you. She can't have children anymore. So we're letting you out — to carry an heir for her." Six years of bleeding for the Alpha had hollowed me out. I had less than a month left to live. What the Alpha would never know was why I'd been willing to bleed myself dry for him. Because I was the one the Moon Goddess had chosen as his mate.

My mate’s sister, Selene, was with pup when she leapt from the highest tower of Blackrock Keep. Before she died, she sent me one final whisper through the pack bond. “Lyra saw him.” From that day on, I became the greatest sinner in Stormcliff. Everyone believed I knew who had driven Selene to her death. The elders demanded the truth. My father-in-law, the aged Alpha, knelt before me. My mother-in-law, the elder Luna, clutched my legs and begged until her voice broke. But I said nothing. For two years, I carried the secret alone. Darian, my mate, did not exile me. Instead, he stayed by my side, gentler than ever. I thought he still loved me. Until the day I gave birth to his pup. That night, he locked me inside the cold stone dungeon and brought out the Soul Recollection Device. Every wolf who had used that device either died or lost their mind. As the silver needles pierced into my skull, Darian stood before me with bloodshot eyes. “If you won’t speak,” he said, his voice cold and shaking, “then I’ll tear the truth out of your soul myself.” He thought I was protecting Selene’s murderer. But when he finally saw the truth I had buried for him, Darian went mad.

My brother-in-law, Timmy Lynch, racks up 50 million dollars of illegal gambling debt but leaves my contact information behind. By the time the interest snowballs to 100 million dollars, the debt collectors show up at my doorstep. After I persuade them to leave, my wife, Celia Lynch, and my mother-in-law, Meryl Unwin, finally come out of the room. Celia's face is pale as she says, "Let's get divorced. I'd rather leave with nothing. Your gambling debts are your own problem, so don't even think about dragging me into this." No matter how many times I explain that it was Timmy who bet on an underdog team and lost, she refuses to believe me. Meryl even slaps me across the face and roars, "Not only are you trying to trick my daughter into paying your debt, but you're also slandering my son? Listen to me, Celia—divorce him immediately!" Then, she turns to me and says, "I might as well tell you the truth now. Celia is pregnant, and the baby's father is your buddy. Just give up already and sign the divorce papers." Wait, what? I literally just won a 100-million-dollar prize from winning a World Soccer Tournament bet last night. I was going to ask if they need help covering Timmy's debt. How did this suddenly turn into a full-on divorce? Fine, then. They can pay back his massive debt themselves.

The year my dad went broke, I was sent to live with billionaire heir Jace Blackwell. We grew up together. When he had a fever, he clung to me, face buried in my arms. When he got yelled at, he sprawled across my lap and sulked. And when another boy wrote me a love letter, Jace pinned me down and kissed me—shaking, jealous, possessive. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Then, on the day we were filling out our early college applications, a sharply dressed man burst into the classroom and shoved me to the floor. He grabbed eighteen-year-old Jace, his eyes bloodshot. "Jace! Look at me! I'm you ten years from now! Don't go to the same college as Nadia. She's not the one you love. It's Faye!" Faye Whitmore. The broke new girl. Eighteen-year-old Jace stared at that identical face, stunned. Then his expression went dark. "What the hell are you talking about? The only person I love is Nadia! I don't care who you are. Touch her again, and I'll kill you!" He rushed over and pulled me into his arms. He was shaking. I gave a bitter smile. No one knew. I was from ten years in the future, too. And twenty-eight-year-old Jace wasn't lying. By then, I wasn't the girl he loved anymore.

A week before our engagement, I finally learned that the man Madison Clarke had always secretly loved... was me. Overjoyed, I hurried to sign to her, wanting to tell her that I was LeoWinter—the gaming partner she'd been coupled with online. What I got in return was ridicule. "Charlie, how does a mute guy like you manage to pull so many tricks?" "LeoWinter already told me his account got stolen. He switched accounts ages ago. And you still want to pretend you're him?" It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My entire body went rigid. She had forgotten that this game ID was permanently bound to the account. It was impossible for it to be stolen.

When I get married to Zachary Lennor, I know that he has a younger, depressed sister who's a huge pain in the ass. On our wedding night, she suddenly barges into our room with the excuse that she's terrified of the dark. That's why she wants Zachary to sleep with her. When I get hospitalized due to my illness and need Zachary to take care of me, his sister insists that he go home to eat all three meals with her every day. Otherwise, she'll go on a hunger strike. Even when Zachary and I are on a date, his sister will call him immediately, claiming that her depression is acting up. If he doesn't go home right away, she will jump off a building without hesitation. Unable to take it anymore, I unleash my anger on Zachary's sister. But Zachary is quick to shield her from my ire. With an icy expression, he tells me, "I only have one sister, whereas I can always get myself another wife. If you can't stomach her presence at all, we'll get a divorce right now." I keep tossing and turning in bed at night, unable to sleep at all. That's when I decide to get out of bed just so I can apologize to Zachary and his sister. As soon as I walk to the doorway, I hear a familiar voice whining from the master suite, where Zachary stays. "Zach, since Samantha got so mad at me today, does this mean she's found out that I'm not your actual sister at all, but your ex-wife?" Zachary pauses momentarily before saying reassuringly, "Even if she does, it's fine. Although I do love her, I've already vowed to stay with you forever the day I married you. "So, even though we're already divorced, I will still keep my word. I won't let you go." At that moment, I finally realize that Zachary's so-called younger sister is just a fake identity. Her depression is also a big fat lie. I'm the only one who's been kept in the dark about everything in this performance. In that case, I'm not going to humor these jerks anymore.

Before our bonding ceremony, my mate, Alpha Zarya, told me she had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Soren. She claimed he had a fatal moon-fade sickness, that his wolf was dying. If she didn’t mark him, he would die. I fought her on it. The next day, she moved Soren straight into the pack house penthouse. The suite meant for the future Head Mate. My suite. To calm me down, she even bowed her head—a rare show of weakness. “I’ll remove the mark as soon as he’s stable,” she promised. “You are still my only Head Mate.” But then Soren found me. He handed me a magical diagnostic report. Permanent Mark & Deep Knotting: Three Weeks. They hadn't just slept together. They had formed a permanent, deep-knotted bond long before she ever “confessed” to me. My world turned to ash. My pen bit into the calendar, scratching a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our bonding ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop. The email from the Laureate Healers Guild of Europe was waiting. I typed two words. "I accept."

After I discovered that my husband, Leonardo Marchetti, could not let go of his first love, I started teaching our daughter Sofia to call him "Uncle Leonardo." Sofia sprained her ankle at school. In the middle of the night, Leonardo got a phone call. Valentina was crying on the other end. Her daughter Lily had a nightmare and would not stop screaming for a father. Leonardo left without saying a word. I pressed an ice pack against Sofia's swollen ankle and whispered, "Say 'goodbye, Uncle Leonardo.'" Leonardo promised to come to Sofia's school sports day. Then Valentina called, sobbing that Lily had no father to run the three legged race with him. Leonardo walked out without a second thought. I just handed the phone to Sofia and told her to tell her teacher, "Uncle Leonardo says he cannot make it." Every time, Sofia hesitated. Sofia did not understand why I was making her do this. Until one day, Leonardo finally realized how much he had failed us. He put down all his mob business for Sofia's piano recital and swore he would not miss it. Sofia was backstage with the other children. Then Leonardo's phone buzzed. Valentina. I could not hear what she said, but I could guess. Lily was crying. Lily needed him. Lily did not have a father. Leonardo came back. But before Leonardo could begin his excuse, Sofia's voice came from the stage. "It is okay, Uncle Leonardo. You go take care of your other kid. Mom staying here to watch me is enough."

Everyone in Frostmoon Pack knew that Cassian loved me. He stayed by my side through every heat cycle. On storm-heavy nights, he would shift into wolf form and coax me to sleep. Before the council of elders, he once declared: “Lyra is my only Luna.” So I had never imagined he would betray me too. The day I found out I was pregnant, I received a set of photos from his former lover. In them, Cassian was bare-chested, with fresh bite marks still visible along his neck. She sent only two lines: He does love you. But last night, he didn’t refuse me. I didn’t cry. I didn’t confront him. I only called my best friend. “Help me arrange a false death.” She was silent, then asked in a low voice, “Have you thought this through? You’re carrying a pup.” I touched my stomach. “I have.” “And contact the witch for me. I want my mate bond with Cassian severed.” Five days later, there would be a fatal wreck on the mountain road beyond the pack borders. When Cassian arrived, all he would find was the burned frame of the car and a handful of ashes that were supposed to be Lyra’s.

After suffering from a miscarriage, I've gotten rid of all the habits that my military husband, Nathan Linwood, despises. No longer do I ask him about his whereabouts. He can spend the night elsewhere for all I care. When I get hurt in a rescue mission, the doctor tells me to inform my family about my condition. I merely shake my head and say, "I don't have any family." But Nathan still arrives at the scene half an hour later. The tall and broad-shouldered man looks at me, his voice extremely cold. "Why didn't you seek me out when you got hurt?" I lower my gaze. "It's just a minor injury. There's no need to trouble you at all, Commander Linwood." For some reason, my nonchalant tone annoys Nathan. He's about to open his mouth when a conversation between the guards floats into our ears. "Commander Linwood sure is concerned about Ms. Schuman. When she twisted her ankle during a performance, Commander Linwood had a helicopter rerouted to the venue immediately. He even carried her into and out of the helicopter, refusing to let her feet touch the ground at all." Nathan's expression shifts into one of nervousness immediately. He glances at me from the corner of his eye, seemingly waiting for me to demand answers from him or kick up a fuss like usual. But my eyelashes barely flutter at the conversation. All I do is close my eyes and rest. Ten days later, I won't have anything to do with everything that's going on here.

On the night of the Festival of Lights, Mother secretly took me out to wander the streets. Then, out of nowhere, a man and a woman stepped into our path. The man stared at my mother, his eyes turning red. "Emmeline?" The woman's gaze locked on me. She grabbed the man's sleeve, suddenly frantic. "Cedric, look! Those eyes, that face... She's our daughter, Rosalind!" She rushed toward me with her arms open wide. "Rosalind, I'm your mother!" I was so scared that I scrambled behind my mother. Mother pulled me behind her without a word. Her face gave nothing away. The man approached, looking guilty and full of himself at the same time. "Emmeline, it must have been hard on you all these years, raising my daughter with Seraphina so well. Now that I've returned to the capital, I'll make it up to you. I still remember the promise we made, our betrothal. "But Seraphina is already my lawful wife, so I'm afraid you'll have to settle for being a concubine." I was stunned. My father was the reigning Emperor. My mother was the Empress. What in the world was this man talking about?

After being dumped for the 99th time for being a “chatterbox,” I finally met my soulmate, Lysander Thorne. As the Mafia godfather, he was a man of few words, but listened to every single word I said with rapt attention. His proposal shattered the curse that had doomed me to a hundred rejections. But, I discovered a fatal flaw in Lysander after we got married. Whatever he spoke to me, he never exceeded ten words. I thought it was his stoic personality until I gave a hand to a girl being harassed by a thug at the bar. At the police station, the girl asked, “Has your husband not arrived yet? My friend will pick me up and you can leave with us.” The next second, I saw Lysander rushing in, looking utterly disheveled. “Elara Thorne! Why do you stir up trouble on your very first day back home? You've got wings of your own now, haven’t you? Did I ever tell you to stay safe firstly when something happened? Stop being so impulsive!” It turned out Lysander could get emotional. How ridiculous! When Lysander entered, his eyes were solely fixed on Elara. I looked at him with a blank expression, and wordlessly walked out of the police station.

My blood-bonded mate, Prince Dorian, despised me. I was just a mortal to him. A girl with filthy blood. His eternity was already promised to a pureblood—Cordelia. When she died in an accident, he blamed me. Hated me for ten years. But when rival vampires attacked our castle, he saved me. Bleeding out in my arms, he used his last breath to push my shaking hands away. "Odette... if only the Bond had never tied us together." At his wake, they kicked me out. So I climbed to the top of their family’s skyscraper—a place they arrogantly called "Heaven's Needle"—and jumped. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night the ancient Blood Bond chose me as his mate. This time, I'm setting him free. And myself along with him.

After Seraphina Vale stole three men fate had once chosen for me, I swore I would never let another wolf claim me. Until Dorian Blackthorn, the Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack, claimed me in front of everyone. He swore his loyalty under the moon oath, turning away every approach from Seraphina. He even called out her behavior publicly in the council hall. For the first time, I thought I had found a wolf worth entrusting my soul to. Three years into marriage, I saw Seraphina again. Someone asked her, “What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?” She licked her lips, eyes unfocused. “Of course, having Dorian Blackthorn mark me. His mate still foolishly thinks he truly hates me.” “In truth, I’ve borne his pup, lived in his territory, driven his car, spent his money.” Everyone’s eyes turned to me. After all, I was Dorian’s Lunna. I did not react. I simply sent the letter I had drafted for three days to the Black Moon Medical Team. The reply came swiftly to my mind: [Your appointment has been confirmed.] [The Black Moon Medical Team welcomes you as its new chief healer. Your office and residence have been prepared.] My wolf growled low in my chest. In two days, I would leave this pack and take up my new post.

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

Vivian was wheeled out of the delivery room for the third time after a massive hemorrhage. The baby was stillborn. The doctor told her that her womb had been damaged by too many pregnancies. She would never carry another child. Numb and hollowed out, Vivian dragged herself toward the morgue to see her baby one last time, and that was when she saw her husband Ethan standing in the corridor, talking quietly to one of his men. "Don, your wife's baby was a perfect marrow match again. One more extraction and Claire's son will be cured." Vivian froze mid-step, every nerve in her body going still. Then came Ethan's voice, light and almost amused, and it shattered something she didn't know was still whole. His man hesitated, something pained moving across his face,"If Claire's boy pulls through, then losing those three kids was worth it." "Don, if the Donna ever finds out what really happened to those babies…" A cold shudder ran through Vivian, and her eyes locked on Ethan. But the curve of his mouth turned sharp, almost cruel. "She won't. I'll make it up to her, get her pregnant again with a healthy one this time. She'll be too busy with the baby to go digging." "And if she does find out, then what?" "Her mother gave her life for mine. That debt has chained me to her for ten years, and I can barely breathe under it. But now there's someone I actually want to protect. She has no right to stand in the way." Something softened in Ethan's face then, something Vivian had never seen turned toward her. "Claire was my brother's wife, and I'll never forget that he died protecting this family. So protecting his widow and his blood are our family’s and my duty." "She's the only person who's ever made me feel like a husband. Like a father." "I have to take care of her."

After my dad's first love moved into our house and became my tutor, my mom never raised her voice at her again. She just coughed worse and worse, until one day I found the lab report she'd thrown out. Stage IV lung cancer. That afternoon, Dad came home with his arm around her, and walked right into Mom sitting on the couch. There was a flicker of guilt on his face. "Helena, if you've got something to say, just say it. Don't make a scene in front of the kid." Mom was eerily calm. She pointed at the woman and said, "She gets on her knees and apologizes to me three times. And you sign over half the company. Then we're done." Dad thought she'd lost it. But in the end he signed the share transfer. After that, Mom's pills kept multiplying and her appetite kept shrinking. But she hired the best lawyer in town, and over and over she taught me how to manage those shares once I was old enough. Dad never figured out the one thing that mattered. Mom was already on her way out.

The plane touched down in Tripoli at dusk. Behind me, the sky was on fire. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to my husband, Don Vito Hart. [I'm here. I came to bring you home.] No reply. I called his underboss, Enzo Stark. His voice was hesitant. "You… you really went to Libya?" An explosion rattled the terminal windows. My heart slammed against my ribs. "Which district is he in?" A long pause. Then, quieter: "He never left the country." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "The business trip… it was a lie." The line went dead. A photo appeared on my screen. Time-stamped today. Vito was smiling. Bright, but something behind his eyes looked tired. His arm was wrapped around a woman. They were blowing out candles on a birthday cake. I recognized her instantly. Rosa Quinn. The woman he'd knelt and sworn on his mother's grave never to see again. Three years ago. I still had the scar on my own palm where I'd made him swear. Vito had forgotten. Today was my birthday too. My phone buzzed again. "Sera, the truth is—the Don never ended things with Rosa. We all knew. But you two seemed so happy… no one dared tell you." I read the message twice. Then I slipped the phone into my pocket. There was no need to pretend anymore.