Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Best Friend Countdown Novels

The 100th time Dexter Carrington ditches me to help my best friend with her lab work, I write the final line in my diary and break up with him. Dexter is exasperated, to say the least. "I genuinely don't know how your amygdala is wired. Your emotions have completely bulldozed your rational thinking." My best friend, Brianna Holt, laughs. "That's cruel. You're insulting her intelligence in words she can't even understand." She's right. I don't understand. The two of them dominate the biology department rankings every year, taking first and second place, and are the kind of prodigies even their professors defer to. I'm just an ordinary student at the music school next door. When they talk about how cells have their own rhythms, the only thing I can think to ask is what time signature those rhythms are in. Dexter always hates that. "If you don't understand, don't chime in." So now I listen. I don't chime in anymore. Because the first page of this diary reads, "Today is my birthday, but Dexter chose to go over data with Brianna. "By the time this diary is full, I'm leaving him for good."

The night before our courthouse wedding, I was working late behind the scenes on a lawyer’s legal advice livestream. My best friend, Monique Baum, called in anonymously. “My boyfriend is marrying his fiancee tomorrow, but I’m the one he loves.” “Then, why is he going through with it?” the lawyer asked. “Because she’d fall apart if he backed out. He spent five years pretending to be broke, and she stayed by his side through it all. She lost their baby and even sold her parents’ only home for him.” Clutching our marriage paperwork, I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Sean Loker and I were getting married the next day. Then, Monique chuckled and said, “Sean said he’d send her a fake appointment confirmation to string her along, then gradually find a way to back out.” I pulled out my phone and entered the confirmation number on the county clerk’s website. There was no record of our appointment.

Three years ago, my best friend was hit by a car trying to save me. She had been in a coma ever since. I sat by her hospital bed, holding her hand. "Serena, you promised you'd be my maid of honor, remember? Julian and I finally set the date. Please wake up soon, okay? I miss you so much." My choked sobbing was cut short by a phone call. The nurse was asking me to come pay next month's hospital fees. But when I came back, I heard the voice I had been desperately waiting three years to hear. "Julian, you told me to wait for you while you broke things off with her." "I've waited three years for you! She comes to see me every single day, and all I can do is lie here." "Now you two are getting married. What about me!"