Melodramatic Romance Short Stories & Awakening Novels

We couldn't agree on our holiday travel plans, so my boyfriend, Julian Wade, created a three-way group chat. "Let's roll the dice," he said. "Highest number wins. Fair and square." Chloe Dawson, my best friend, rolled a six. She wanted to go to Miami. I wanted to go to Aspen. But I only rolled one. I didn’t pick Aspen on a whim. It was the place my mom had always dreamed of visiting before she passed away. This year marked five years since she died, and I promised I would see the snowy peaks for her. Julian knew that. Just three months ago, he held my hands and promised he would take me there for the holidays. "Fair is fair," Julian texted, dropping a head-patting emoji. It was the twenty-seventh time this year I had rolled the lowest number. I lost when we picked a restaurant last week. I lost when we chose a movie the week before. Then yesterday happened. I used Julian’s tablet to look up some travel guides and noticed his messaging app was still logged in. A chat with his friend sat right at the top. [Sent you the loaded dice plugin. You can roll whatever you want now.] [Thanks. Chloe takes things too seriously, and this is the only way to handle her.] I stared at those two sentences for a long time, then quietly put the tablet back. So he knew what Aspen meant to me. And I wasn’t losing to bad luck. I was losing to his favoritism. I left the group chat, booked a one-way ticket to Aspen, and packed my bags. First day of the holiday. Seven in the morning. Flying solo.

Every time Austin Cole cheats on me, I'm quick to show up. I take photos, record videos, call the police on the mistress, and sometimes even make a public spectacle of her humiliation. On the 13th time he cheats on me, I'm rushing to the hotel when a message from my boss suddenly pops up, saying he needs me in Ardendale immediately to handle an urgent project. I've been working on that project for over a year. My entire career is practically betting on it. I stare at the screen. The next second, I turn the car around. After a month of nonstop work, when I finally drag my exhausted body home, Austin is lounging on the couch, casually watching TV. The moment he sees me walk in, a smile tugs at his lips. "Why didn't you come catch me last time? Ellie and I waited for you at the hotel for ages." I'm so tired that I can barely keep my eyes open. "My boss urgently needed me. I was working overtime in Ardendale all month, so I couldn't make it." A flicker of disbelief crosses his face. I turn to look at him and suddenly realize I don't have any energy left to keep acting in this ridiculous love-hate drama with him. "Austin, I want a divorce."

In my past life, Noah Luther, my brother, runs away from his engagement. The bride, Julia Zimmerman, shows no resentment and simply switches the arrangement to me right on the spot. She is courteous and thoughtful toward me after the wedding, but that all changes when Noah crosses someone abroad and has his limbs crushed. She actually spends the whole night in the study after learning of that incident. I assume Julia is worried about my safety when she sends over a dozen bodyguards to me the following day, a gesture that touches me deeply. I suddenly lose consciousness out of nowhere the next day. Then, I get abducted to an abandoned factory and have my hands and legs crushed bit by bit. It's so painful that I try to bite my tongue to commit suicide from the agonizing pain. Julia walks in slowly, looks at my condition, and says wistfully, "So that's how much pain he went through back then." When Noah trips and falls during rehabilitation and loses a tooth, Julia violently pulls out my tooth with pliers that very same night. She looks at my bloody mouth and says calmly that she's only doing this for my sake since I eat too much. Soon after, I "happen" to fall down the stairs when Noah sprains his back, forcing me to stay in bed for three months. Julia even breaks a cup and drives the shards into my hand when Noah accidentally slices his finger while chopping vegetables. Noah later dies in a car accident abroad. Julia drags me to a bridge over the river and jumps off with me, saying, "You're just a stand-in for him. He's dead now, so you shouldn't live either." I open my eyes and find myself back on the day Julia arrives to talk about the wedding arrangement. Noah has already fled through the back door, so she looks at me coldly and says, "I'll marry you, then." I merely smile and say, "I'm already in love with someone else, so please find another person for this marriage, Ms. Zimmerman."

On the very first day of our marriage, Jasper Clarke, a renowned gynecologist, laid down his terms. "My time can mean life or death for my patients. You can't afford to waste it. I may not be able to be there for you day to day, but I'll set aside half a day every month just for you. That's the most I can offer." I understood how demanding his job was, so I nodded and agreed. From then on, I ate alone, went to doctor's appointments alone, and spent my days in an empty house. I never once disturbed Jasper. That changed in my third month of pregnancy, when I began showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. For the first time, I booked a specialist appointment with Jasper. The moment I pushed open the door to his office, his smile froze. "What are you doing here? Get out! Don't take up a spot another patient needs!" Before I could say a word, he called in the next patient. A young pregnant woman walked in behind me, carrying a bouquet of white jasmine. She sat down beside Jasper. As the door closed, I saw him stand up, his left hand resting at her waist and his right hand covering hers as he took the bouquet. I waited outside for four hours, but Jasper never called in another patient. A nurse came over to inform me. "Ms. Wells is Dr. Clarke's VIP patient. He saves every Wednesday for her. If you're not feeling well, I can help you make an appointment with another doctor." My phone lit up with a calendar reminder. The half-day I had been looking forward to all month would be over in five minutes. My hand stilled against my lower abdomen. Suddenly, I could not feel the pain anymore. After a long moment of silence, I spoke softly. "I'd like to schedule an abortion."

From the time I was 22 until I turned 30, Brianna Everly and I had a wedding every year. The only thing we never had was a marriage certificate. She said she was afraid of marriage, terrified that we'd end up like her parents. So I gave her eight years to prepare herself—until our eighth wedding, when Brianna showed up in the wrong wedding dress. It looked just like the wedding dress she'd always worn for our ceremonies, except for one detail. The name embroidered along the neckline wasn't mine. It was my best friend, Leon Stratford's. I was about to confront Brianna when my brother, Dominic Sterling, grabbed my arm. "Harrison, it's been eight years. What's the point of digging into it now? Just pretend you never saw anything." I stared at him in disbelief. "Dominic, you knew all along?" He stiffened and glanced at all the family and friends gathered at the wedding. "I'm not the only one who knows. Everyone does too." I stood there stunned, unable to find my voice for a long moment. "Why? Why did Brianna hold a wedding with me every year for the past eight years?" Dominic explained with pity in his eyes, "Having a wedding every year was Leon's idea. Except for the wedding when they actually got legally married, every wedding after that was one Leon had, and you had one too." It turned out the marriage certificate I'd spent eight years waiting for had been given to someone else long ago. Worse, I was the last person to find out.

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

I back out of marrying Yvonne Mullen, my fiancee, just two days before the wedding, even though we have been together for seven years. The staff member at the venue is stunned. "Your wedding is coming. Don't you want to wait for the bride to return and talk things over first?" I smile and take one last look at the wedding venue I personally spent three months preparing. I then say calmly, "I'm done waiting. She doesn't have the time since she's getting married to her first love in Alveria at this moment."

Caroline Reed is sleeping with her childhood friend, Sheldon Graham, for the 999th time, and she's as passionate as ever. The next morning, Sheldon is covered in scratches and love bites. Every time he moves, he's reminded of the passion and the wildness of the night before. The tension from the night before lingers. Caroline rests against him, her slender fingers tracing circles over his firm chest. "Wear something nice tomorrow. You're coming home with me," she says casually. Sheldon looks up in shock, hope rising in his voice as he asks, "Are you… finally going to tell everyone about us?" Caroline raises an eyebrow and shoots him a sidelong glance. "Tell them what? I've got a date set up at home tomorrow. I need you there so things don't get awkward for him."

To save money for a house, I had been living a frugal life with my boyfriend, Desmond Wood. When Desmond received a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus, he bought me a branded bag. I was delighted, but I felt that he did not need to spend so much on me. Hence, I brought the receipt and the bag to the shop for a refund. The shopkeeper told me that my bag was fake. However, the receipt was real.

I could see everyone’s loyalty score floating above their heads. Once it dropped below 60%, they would eventually leave. The day my father cheated, his loyalty score fell from 69% to 23%. The day my sister ran away from home, hers dropped to 7%. So later, whenever I dated someone, I always knew when to walk away. I never stayed long enough to be abandoned. Until I met Ethan Hayes. His loyalty score had always been 100%. I thought I had finally found true love. But on our daughter’s third birthday, he broke his promise and didn’t show up. That night, when he finally came home, the number above his head had fallen from 100% to 87%. I stared at it for a long moment. Then I thought, It was time to start planning my exit again.

When the Carter family went bankrupt, Zoe Carter sold herself to the Tanners to save her mother. She became the bride of Yale Tanner, the man everyone in Gerton feared and avoided like the devil himself. Their marriage was supposed to bring him good fortune and save his life. Three days after the wedding, Yale, who had been on the brink of death from a gunshot wound, made a miraculous recovery. From then on, he treated Zoe like the most precious thing in his world. Now, however, Zoe sat bound at the wrists and ankles with coarse hemp rope, less than two feet from the open door of a helicopter. Freezing water jolted her awake. At thirty-three thousand feet, the icy wind rushing through the open doorway chilled her to the bone. She struggled instinctively, but the ropes only tightened, digging into her flesh until blood began to seep from her wrists and ankles. "Don't be scared, Zoe. Look at your mother! She's putting on quite the kite show!" Yale seized her trembling head and forced her to look at the screen beside her. There, suspended from a rope outside the helicopter, her mother dangled helplessly in the wind, her eyes vacant as she swayed like a kite. "Mom! Mom!" Her fear for her mother overwhelmed her own terror. Frantically, Zoe tried to crawl toward the screen, struggling forward on her bound hands and feet. Yale caught her by the back of her neck and held her firmly in place. His warm breath brushed her ear as he spoke, his voice cold and menacing. "Have you learned to behave yourself yet, Zoe? Now tell me, who do the data and research papers on precision-targeted therapies and antibody-drug conjugates really belong to?"

It all started because my daughter, Joy Harrell, threw a tantrum wanting to go to the amusement park. On the way there, we got into an accident that left my wealthy husband, Brian Harrell, paralyzed in both legs, unable to ever stand again. As punishment, he slashes our daily allowance to a mere ten cents, and Joy and I are forced to survive by scavenging through trash and even fighting wild dogs for food. One day, dizzy with hunger, Joy eats some cookie crumbs that the family doctor, Aurora Bradley, drops on the floor. She does so out of sheer hunger and desperation. However, Brian immediately berates her for "stealing" and forces her to kneel outside in the pouring rain for ten hours before being allowed back inside the villa. Furious, I go to confront him, but instead I see his crippled legs standing tall, holding hands with Aurora as they waltz to the music. Brian's friend looks out the window and feels sorry for us, saying, "Look, Brian, your daughter's tantrum might have caused you to miss your last chance to see your first love ever again, but don't you think that you've already punished her and your wife long enough for that? "You even hired a stand-in to pose as a doctor in the house. Surely your anger has cooled off by now, right?" Brian scoffs and replies coldly, "They were thoughtless enough to ruin the seven-year pact I had with Dorothy. This punishment is nothing—in fact, it's way too light for them. "Don't you ever bring this up again. Only two more years of their punishment remain. Once it's over, I'll make it up to them properly." However, Brian doesn't know that I've been saving all of the good food I can ever get for Joy, and thus, I've developed terminal stomach cancer. In other words, I will never live to see the future. But I will also never let Joy stay by his side to suffer any longer.

On the night of the Imperial Winter Festival, the fake princess personally lit the Grand Lantern. But as the lantern lit up, an image appeared on its shade, revealing a horrifying scene of me, the real princess, being thrown into a beggar's den and violated by one man after another. The noblewomen blushed with embarrassment and called me depraved by nature. They said anyone who had suffered such a fate should have taken her own life long ago, yet I'd shamelessly continued to live. Some even claimed I was worse than a prostitute behind closed doors, saying countless men had used and ruined me. My brother, the king, kept his eyes fixed on me and ordered his secret guards to watch me in case I tried to hurt Francesca. But the arrogant, spoiled princess I once was had long since disappeared. Faced with their humiliation, I smiled at the noblewomen attending the banquet. "You're right. Someone like me deserves to die." When she realized I wouldn't take the bait, Francesca deliberately dropped and shattered a treasured keepsake left behind by our late mother, then pretended to accidentally step on my dress and tear it. Even with everyone staring at me, I remained as numb and submissive as ever. My brother thought Francesca had gone a little too far. Nevertheless, he gave me an approving look. "Leah, after five years of studying at the Abbey of St. Faith, you've finally learned to be gracious and tolerant of others." His words struck me as laughable. What grace? I'd simply given up on the brother who had humiliated me time and time again.

The day Carly Stein and I make things official, she syncs her phone to my smart weighing scale. Every morning, my body fat percentage and biometric data get uploaded straight to her phone. Whenever my fat slips above 8%, she turns cold. "Lower it to 8%, Danny. Get those muscles razor-sharp, and then we'll get married." For six years, I obsess over every calorie and burn myself out in the gym because of those words. On my birthday, I eat a single slice of regular cake. She immediately flags it on our shared fitness app as a severe loss of control. Now, I finally hit 8%. I have the broad shoulders and narrow waist she demanded. Yet on the day of my custom suit fitting, Carly leaves me waiting in the shop for three hours. Aiden Turner, an old friend, sends a photo. Carly is sitting with him in a barbecue joint, picking onions out of his plate. "Hey Danny, I just got back in town. Carly said you're cutting for the wedding and can't have this stuff, so I didn't invite you." On our app, Carly logs that grease-heavy midnight meal as a "companion day". I open the scale's historical setup logs. That 8% body fat goal was created six years ago—the exact day Aiden moved abroad. There's one line of text in the target notes field that hasn't been completely deleted. "Aiden at his physical peak." I stare at the screen for a long moment, then hit unpair. After that, I go to the suit shop and change the name on the suit reservation to Aiden Turner.

Olivia Hall was 18 when her parents died in a bloody gang war. Henry West, the city's most powerful crime boss, took her captive and forced her into a relationship. He kept her at his side, never letting her leave. Olivia fought him every step of the way, willing to risk her life rather than give in. But no matter how much she hated him or how hard she pushed him away, Henry lavished her with affection and made sure no one could hurt her. Over time, his relentless devotion wore down her defenses. Against her better judgment, Olivia fell in love with him. Everyone said she was Henry's greatest strength and the one weakness that could destroy him. The day Olivia agreed to marry him, Henry wiped out half the city's criminal world to make sure no one left could threaten her. Then he announced he was retiring. "Olivia, you're the only woman I'll ever love. There'll never be anyone else. I promise." Years later, Olivia discovered that Henry was secretly looking after another woman, someone he treated like she was too precious for the world to touch. "Olivia, I still love you more than anyone, but Grace is sweet and innocent. She reminds me of you when we first met, and I can't just walk away from her. Once this is over, I'll make it up to you. I swear." Olivia wasn't going to give him another chance. He had ruined what they had, and she had no interest in holding on to what was left. She burned every keepsake from their relationship and boarded a flight overseas, determined to leave Henry behind for good.

She'd loved him for four years. But just before their wedding, she was forced to pretend she'd betrayed him, leaving him no choice but to let her go. When he found out she'd cheated on him, he flew into a rage and made her life a living hell. “Summer Blake, you should be grateful I haven't killed you.” It wasn't until much later that he realized just how empty his world had become without her.

"Forget it, I'll marry him!" The moment Margot Johanson said those words, she suddenly felt a sense of relief. She could hear her parents' voices full of smiles in her ears. "Gigi, we’re glad you’ve made up your mind. Your fiancé may be in a coma, but he’s quite handsome.  “Although he’s been out for years, what if he wakes up? After all, he’s the one set to inherit the family business..." Her parents, trying to persuade their own daughter to marry a comatose man, actually thought she was getting the better deal.  They seemed convinced that no one else in the world would be foolish enough to take on such a situation.  Margot smiled bitterly. "Don’t worry. Since I’ve made up my mind to marry, I won’t back out. I won’t let your precious Maisie take my place."

Three hours before our wedding, I found out Denise Benson had picked up the wrong suit for me. Instead of the custom white tuxedo with intricate gold embroidery, she had brought home a plain gray janitor's uniform. When I pointed out the mistake, she was busy adjusting my best friend Eric Jones's bow tie. She barely glanced in my direction. "I grabbed the wrong one. It's too late to do anything about it now, so just wear it." I had heard some version of that excuse countless times over the past eight years. When I had gastritis, she brought me the wrong medication, yet somehow remembered exactly what Eric needed for his cough. On our third anniversary trip, she claimed she had mixed up our IDs and ended up booking a romantic suite for herself and Eric. At our engagement party, she somehow mixed up our families and introduced Eric's parents as her future in-laws instead of mine. I had had enough of her so-called mix-ups. This time, I wanted to make absolutely sure nothing went wrong. I spent almost a whole year working on my wedding suit, carefully choosing every detail of the design. The gold embroidery was especially meaningful, with patterns that represented different moments in our relationship. I sent Denise countless photos of the finished suit, making sure she knew exactly what it looked like. Even when she went to pick it up, I stayed on the phone with her, going over the details one last time. And somehow, she still brought back the wrong thing. She had no trouble picking up Eric's suit, which was almost identical to mine except for the embroidery. Yet when it came to my outfit, she couldn't even get the color right. She brought me a janitor's uniform, for God's sake. Denise caught me looking at Eric's suit and immediately frowned. "Don't start. It's just a wedding ceremony. Who cares what you're wearing?" As usual, she expected me to let it go and pretend nothing had happened. But after eight years of putting up with her excuses, I was done. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the engagement ring Denise had given me, and tossed it to Eric. "You're right. It's just a ceremony. Guess it doesn't matter who you marry, either."

I had been dating Andy Lawson for five years. He had gone bankrupt, and during the worst of it, we had to sleep in parks and scavenge leftovers for food. After a hundred days of that life, I was just going to the blackmarket to sell some blood for money when someone sent me a video. [Surprise.] It was a livestream site, set up for rich kids to prank the common folk—and a video of me was pinned to the top. My finger trembling, I tapped on it and saw myself hidden in a corner of a park, munching on leftovers to nourish my frail body. On the split video, Andy was reclining against the armchair of a five-star hotel and savoring his gourmet menu. "Oh, this is amazing! All Andy has to do is say that he's sick, and she's selling her blood for him!" "On the sixteenth prank, she fell into the ocean… And on the fifteenth, she was sent flying in a car crash! Why is she so hard to kill?" "Well, Andy already made it clear that if she survives until the end, he will marry her and swear off women!" "One month to go! Will she die from the pranks, or marry into the Lawson family with pomp and circumstance?" "I'm betting fifty mil that she dies tragically! Hahaha!"

My boyfriend returned from his volunteer teacher post with a quiet girl. She wore bleached clothes and always spoke timidly, calling my boyfriend's name intimately. Since then, everything in our house had an extra copy for her. Winona Chaucer had everything I had and didn't have. I could put up with that, but then came the day of the proposal. My boyfriend knelt on one knee and pulled out a ring box with two rings inside. He looked at me and softened his voice to the point I thought he was convincing a child to accept an unreasonable request. "Winona said she wanted one too. Don't take it to heart, alright? Will you marry me, Liliana Davis" I looked at the identical diamond rings but took neither of them. Chris Samson, my boyfriend, had no idea that the one thing I couldn't stand was sharing anything with someone else, not even the person who was supposed to stand by my side for the rest of my life.