Best Friend Romance Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

Yves Riverson had a new razor. It was royal blue, wrapped in red silk, and he placed it at the very bottom of his suitcase as though it were some priceless treasure. During the flight, the plane suddenly hit turbulence. The alarm screeched through the cabin, and in that moment, the thing he clutched was not my hand. It was the razor someone else had given him. Only after the plane landed did he seem to remember I was there. He gently caressed my hand and told me not to be afraid. I said nothing, nor did I push him away. After we left the airport, I watched him eagerly pick up his phone. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Then he turned and saw me. The smile on his face froze. "Just talking to my parents." I nodded and ended the call with his parents. The car was moving slowly, and he was happily chatting with that person. I was scrolling the screen. The jewelry purchases made through our linked-payment account. That person made sure to note that the razor must be royal blue. "To Ms. Samantha Shaw." Samantha's laughter drifted faintly from the phone. I looked at my tired reflection in the car window and suddenly blurted out, "When did you start having an affair with my best friend?"

In the seventh year of our relationship, my boyfriend, Hunter Jenkin, seemed to have lost interest in everything. Desperate to figure out what still excited him, I bought a wristband that measured romantic excitement and fastened it around his wrist myself. When we watched a movie together, the wristband registered just 1 point. When we climbed a snow-covered mountain and kissed at the summit, the score was only 5. On his birthday, when I slipped a ring onto his finger, it rose to a mere 8. No matter what I did, I could never spark any real excitement in him. I was almost ready to give up, and I even suspected that the wristband was nothing more than an overpriced gimmick. Then, on the first night of Hunter’s business trip, my phone suddenly began vibrating nonstop. [Your partner’s romantic excitement score: 90.] I stared at the screen, stunned. By 1 a.m., the score had hit 100 and stayed there all night. I opened the location tracker, only to find an address so familiar that it sent a chill through me. It was the home of my best friend, Candace Lindhurst. Hunter had not lost his capacity for love. He had simply directed it all to someone else.

Jake Carter called and asked to meet. We settled on the small hometown diner we used to hit up. He couldn't look me in the eye the entire time, and we didn't exchange a word during the meal. It wasn't until we were about to leave that he finally pulled a property deed from his bag. "This is for you," he said. "I accept my defeat. Consider it compensation for your emotional distress. Your name is already on it." I didn't bother with polite refusals. I took the deed, mumbled a quick thanks, and got up to leave. Jake scrambled to his feet, calling out from behind me with the one question he'd been burning to ask all along. "If you loved me back then, why did you let Brenda get to me first?" I turned around, looking him in the eye for the first time all day. "Are you really going to pretend you never knew how I felt? You were just playing dumb the whole time." "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "Can we still get dinner together tomorrow?" "Forget it. I don't need your apology," I said blandly. "You were a victim in this mess, too. As for dinner, don't bother. I'm resigning from the company tomorrow, and it's best if we don't see each other again." The iron wire ring I once treasured as proof of love had turned out to be a cage. Stepping out of the diner, I threw the rusted ring straight into the trash. From now on, I would live for myself.

It was not until my death that I realized my husband would not touch me because he was deeply in love with my best friend. The two spent their entire lives longing for each other, but never crossing the line, staying loyal from afar. Even my best friend's professor husband lived his life like a celibate monk. After being reborn, I seized the moment and held the professor's hand. "I like you. Let's be together." His eyes darkened as he replied, "Perfect. I feel the same." We instantly connected. However, this time, it was my husband and best friend who were not happy about it.

In the second year of my divorce battle with Adrian Pierce, the judge awarded him everything. As I was packing, my daughter pulled an old cell phone out of one of the boxes. "Mommy, look. It still turns on." I tapped the screen, and an email popped up. It was one I had written to myself 10 years ago. "Clara, how are you at 28? Did you marry the man you love? Is your baby adorable? He loves kids so much. You two must be so happy together." Tears splashed onto the screen as I typed back, one sentence at a time. "I did get married, and we had a daughter. However, I found out he was cheating on me with my best friend, our daughter's godmother, during the third year of our marriage. We spent two years fighting through the divorce, and he won. I walked away with nothing." A reply came back mere seconds after I hit the send button. "You're lying! Adrian and Avery love me more than anyone else in the world. They would never betray me like that." A bitter smile tugged at my lips as my trembling fingers typed another swift but brutal reply. "The people who loved you the most? Funny. Our daughter was born with a congenital heart defect. She wouldn't survive without surgery. I got down on my knees and begged Adrian for the money to save her, but he accused me of trying to scam him. "He froze every one of my accounts and used the money from our wedding gifts to pay for his wedding with Avery. The invitations have already been sent out. "Wake up, Clara. Adrian will no longer love you 10 years from now. Now that you know the cruel truth, it's your choice whether to walk away now or stay with him."

My boyfriend never stayed up late, yet he pulled an all-nighter just to watch the sunrise with my best friend. He insisted it was for work and told me to stop overthinking it. Felix Grant and I had been together for seven years, but I never knew where I stood with him. I stuck with him when he had nothing and helped him build his company from scratch. But in all those years, he'd never spent more than a hundred dollars on a gift for me. He said having money didn't mean we should start wasting it. So I limited myself to less than a thousand dollars a month. Then he spent a fortune at an auction on a necklace just to make Gracie smile. My eyes stung with anger. "Lixi, how is this fair?" He frowned and pulled Gracie into his arms as she trembled. Then he turned to me, clearly annoyed. "Gracie liked the necklace. That's it. Can you stop being so difficult?" My best friend, Gracie Bennett, gave her usual sweet smile and stepped between us. "Lix, don't be so mean to Eunice. Didn't you buy her a gift too? Give it to her." Felix tossed a cheap plastic bag at me. "Gracie picked it out for you. You should thank her." Gracie glared at him and pointed at the stuffed animal inside, the cheap kind sold at roadside stalls. "I told you to say you picked it out for Eunice yourself." Her teasing tone cut straight through me. I dug my nails into my palms, suddenly tired of all of it. In three days, Felix and I would have been together for seven years. Fine. I'd prepare one last gift for the two of them.

My boyfriend and I had planned to fly to LA to watch our favorite MLB team play at home. But on the day we were supposed to leave, I waited at the airport for three hours. He never showed. It wasn't until after dark that he finally called. “Sorry, Audrey. I forgot to tell you. Natalie found out we were taking engagement photos and got so excited she couldn't sleep. She insisted I fly out with her early to scout locations.” “You can make it here on your own, right? The three of us will meet at the stadium entrance tomorrow.” I stood frozen. Natalie Brooks was my best friend. She had watched Derek Sinclair and me go from high school sweethearts to planning our wedding, and always called herself our biggest supporter. Yet with one casual “fly out early,” Derek had left me, his bride-to-be, behind at the airport. “You two have fun.” I smiled faintly. “I suddenly don't feel like going anymore.” The next day, I saw Natalie's latest post. She had uploaded a photo of herself with Ryan Kane, my favorite player. The caption read: “Thanks to Derek for pulling strings to get me this photo. Location scouting complete. The things I do for my best friend!” I calmly liked the post. Then I called the wedding planner and canceled the wedding we were supposed to have in two weeks. Natalie never stopped talking about how much she cared about my happiness, yet she had already taken the trip and surprise meant for me. I was done sharing this relationship with a third person.

Someone entered my room the night I stayed at my best friend's place. I struggled desperately, but he pinned my hands above my head. "It's been a month. Haven't you missed this?" His voice was low and clear, cool yet incredibly seductive. Before I could speak, he crushed his lips against mine. "Nora, I'm back." Just then, I heard my best friend, Emma Moore, outside the door. The man on top of me froze and lowered his voice. "Who are you?!" My voice trembled as I answered, "I'm Nora Sutton." "Damn it." He swore and quickly got off me.

My best friend, Genevieve Sachs, has never been a particularly good driver and is always scraping her car against something. So when she buys a parking spot, she chooses the one right between mine and my fiance's. Both she and my fiance get off work earlier than I do, so by the time I come home, Genevieve's car is often parked crookedly across the lines. I have no choice but to leave my car in an open-air lot nearly a mile away and walk home. Genevieve often feels bad about it and comes over to cook for me as an apology. Then, one day, Riverton issues a warning for a heavy rainstorm. Once again, I can't fit my car into my parking spot, so I have to leave it a mile away and walk home through the downpour. By the time I get home, I'm soaked to the skin. My fiance, Logan Poole, is in the kitchen with Genevieve, chatting about what they should have for dinner. The moment they notice how drenched I am, Genevieve sticks out her tongue sheepishly. "Sorry, Keira. I was afraid I'd scratch Logan's car. I'll be more careful about where I park next time." Logan immediately grabs a dry towel and hands it to me. "Next time, just park a little closer to my spot," he says, turning toward Genevieve. "If you scratch my car, so be it. I don't want you to have to keep dealing with this." As always, before I can even say anything, the two of them have already apologized and admitted fault. Suddenly, I feel completely numb to it all. "Okay," I murmur before heading into the bathroom. I peel off my clothes, which are clinging to my skin, and sink into the bathtub. For the next half hour, I soak in the warm water while I can hear their laughter coming from outside. The hot bath is comforting, and for once, having the whole tub to myself feels just right. Somewhere in those 30 minutes, I finally come to a decision. If there's no room for me in that parking spot, I'm not going to fight for it anymore. And if there's no room for me in their relationship, I'm done fighting for that, too.

I had been dating Sean Barnes for three years, and during all that time, I never once asked him to dine at a fancy restaurant. He kept a strictly balanced ledger for all our romantic spendings. If a meal crossed the budget, he would go out of his way to earn back the extra amount. Before heading off to work, he would always plant a kiss on me. “Gotta save up for that wedding, baby.” While away on those business trips, he never failed to report every detail of his itinerary, so I never once doubted him. One night before Thanksgiving, Sean claimed the cost of the gifts he got for my parents had gone way over budget, prompting yet another trip out of town. “You wouldn’t want our wedding date to keep getting pushed back time and again, would you? I’ll be back on Thanksgiving. You have my word.” Gazing at the exhaustion in his eyes, my heart softened, and I yielded. Came Thanksgiving Day, and my parents and I waited in vain late into the night, while Sean’s phone rang on without being picked up. Faced with the worried looks in my parents’ eyes, I forced a smile, then drove through the night to the place where Sean was supposed to be working out of town. When I arrived at the hotel, however, I found him holding a wedding ceremony with my best friend, Michelle Hudson. They were kissing amidst the loud cheers of the crowd. At that exact moment, a message popped up on my phone from Sean. “Sorry babe, just wrapped up with the emergency surgery.” Watching Sean put away his phone on stage with a face full of tenderness, I dialed the number of my friend, the CEO of an entertainment agency. “How much for a trending hashtag? I want the whole world to know about a certain wedding.”

When I am diagnosed with congenital heart disease, I am forced to leave the dance company and give up the career I have spent my entire life working toward. My best friend, Vivian Carter, steps into my place, promising to fulfill my dream in my stead. My boyfriend, Ethan Bennett, proposes to me on the spot. He swears that no matter what happens to me—or what becomes of me—he will never leave my side. Over the next five years, I devote myself to helping Vivian rise through the ranks until she becomes the company's principal dancer. With my support, Ethan's career flourishes as well. And through it all, they never stop telling me they are searching for a way to cure me. This year, while both of them are busy preparing for an upcoming competition, I go to my follow-up appointment alone. But when I receive the results, I am stunned. There is nothing wrong with my heart. Overwhelmed with joy, I clutch the medical report to my chest and rush home, eager to share the news with them. Then, before I can step inside, I hear voices coming from within. Vivian speaks first. "Evelyn's follow-up appointment is coming up. Are you sure nothing will go wrong?" Ethan's voice is calm and unconcerned. "I already took care of it. Her test results will still show that she has heart disease." He pauses before adding, "Besides, she hasn't danced in five years. Even if she somehow finds out, what can she possibly do?" Vivian lets out a quiet laugh. "You're right." I freeze outside the door. The blood drains from my face as their words sink in. So this is the truth. My best friend and the man who promised to love me forever have been lying to me all along. Every promise. Every act of devotion. Every sacrifice I thought they had made for me. It has all been a lie.

On his birthday, my boyfriend, Donald Cole, made three wishes over the cake I had baked with my own hands. First, he wished Cecily Reynauld would be happy every day. Second, he wished Cecily's project would win its award. Third, he wished the cat that Cecily and he were raising together would grow up healthy. Cecily Reynauld… My best friend. I stood there, frozen. But everyone else in the room laughed and cheered. Blushing, Cecily gave Donald a playful shove. "Why didn't you make a wish for Summer? "She is your girlfriend after all." Donald smiled with absolute confidence. "Do I even have to guess what she wants? "She obviously wants to marry me." The next second, he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring. If this had happened before, I probably would have cried and said yes. But this time, my eyes locked onto the ring as he slid it onto my ring finger. It slid right back down. It was one size too big. Exactly Cecily's size. A faint smile tugged at my lips. I'd loved Donald Cole for seven years. While letting him go only took a single moment.

When I went to return my engagement ring, the jeweler asked me why. Right in front of her, I slid it onto my finger. It caught at the second knuckle and wouldn't go any farther. "You can see for yourself. This isn't my size." The jeweler went pale and offered to resize it on the spot. I shook my head, my voice eerily calm. "You can fix the ring size. You can't fix the shoe size. And you definitely can't fix the wedding dress." Everything about my wedding to Charles Garth was mine in name only — my name was on the invitation as the bride, and that was as far as it went. Every time I asked him to come try on the dress with me, he'd keep his eyes on his laptop and answer without looking up. "I'm busy. I already know your measurements. I gave them to the boutique myself. "Just show up and be the bride. Everything's already handled." But three days before the wedding, what I got was a ring that wouldn't fit and a dress I couldn't wear. The shoes, the gloves, the garter — every single piece was sized for my best friend. Something I'd been holding onto for a long time finally gave out, and it left a hole in my chest. Charles frowned, still trying to talk me into it. "It's just a ceremony. You two are so close — would it really be so bad if Maia stood in for you at the altar?" I didn't say anything. I didn't refuse, either. I just thought — maybe it wouldn't be so bad to swap out the groom instead.

Before I turned fifteen, I lived like a weed. Cold, damp, barely surviving. Then I met Ethan Hayes and Summer Reed. The first home-cooked meal anyone ever made for me was made by Summer. The first dress I ever owned was bought by Summer. The first birthday anyone ever celebrated for me was something Summer planned down to the smallest detail. She would carefully put ointment on the chilblains covering my hands. And she would tell everyone, over and over, that I was her best friend. As for Ethan... He was the one who pulled me away from a group of laughing street punks. He was the one who kicked open a door and rushed me to the hospital when my fever reached 104 degrees. He was the one who broke my drunken stepfather's head open with a single punch, the night the man came at me again. The day he confessed his feelings, his hands were trembling and my heart was pounding so hard that tears filled my eyes. "I swear I'll protect you for the rest of my life." I often thought that in the bleak, gray life I had been given, meeting the two of them was the greatest luck I could ever have asked for. Until my twenty-third birthday. I heard Ethan shouting at Summer. "I can't control what I feel! I fell in love with you. So what? You feel the same way, don't you?" Summer looked into his red, tormented eyes. At last, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. "But... what about Mia?" Hidden around the corner, I smiled bitterly. What else was there to do? They were the two people I loved most in the world. I couldn't bear to make things harder for them. So I called my advisor and said calmly, "Can I apply for that twenty-year Antarctic research program?"

I'd lost count of how many times Ethan had turned me down when I asked to stay the night at his place. "Ethan, you're no fun at all." I grumbled. The day before, I'd noticed someone had left a mark by my front door, the kind that flags a woman living alone. It scared me, so I went to Ethan and asked if I could crash at his place for a few days. He said no. "I'll book you a hotel room for tonight." When he saw I was upset, he softened. "I just don't want to give up my own space this soon." "Give me a little time to get used to the idea, okay?" Three years together, and no matter how late our dates ran, he always drove me home. He never once asked me to stay. I wasn't happy about it, but I nodded and let it go. It wasn't that late yet, so I suggested we catch the new movie that had just come out. Ethan checked the time instead and hurried me off to the hotel, a little on edge. Alone in the room, I happened to scroll past the social media of a new coworker. "AC's broken at my place. Thank God I've got someone to run to, or I'd melt." The photo behind the caption showed the TV wall in Ethan's living room. My stomach dropped. I stared at the picture for a long time. By the time I came back to myself, my face was wet with tears. Then I slid off the engagement ring Ethan had given me. A love with something rotten stirred into it wasn't a love I wanted anymore.

I was playing hide-and-seek with my little niece, Julia Hanson. After counting to 20 with my eyes covered, I headed upstairs to look for her and noticed the attic door was padlocked. I was about to turn around when I heard a faint rustling sound from inside. I crept closer and pressed my ear to the wooden door. I opened my mouth, ready to yell, "Found you!" when I heard my best friend, Zoey Peterson, breathing heavily. "What if someone comes up here?" My boyfriend, Evan Wheeler, chuckled under his breath. "Relax. I promised Julia I'd get her that Barbie she's been begging for. She locked the door for us. Nobody's going to find out." I went completely still, a chill running through me. That morning, Evan and Zoey told me they were heading out to pick up a surprise for me. Then they drove off together. My nails dug into my palms. So this was the surprise they had in mind.

My best friend Summer Woods often made me play the "instant reply game" to test our boyfriends' loyalty. She said you could tell how much a man loved you by how quickly he replied to you. During a meal, less than three seconds after she sent the text, her mysterious boyfriend transferred $800 to pay her bill. I sat there until we finished all the food before I finally received a reply from Cody, which said, "I'm in a meeting." On a certain rainy day, Summer simply texted, "I forgot to bring an umbrella", and ten minutes later, a luxury car was there to pick her up. Meanwhile, I stood drenched in the rain for an hour before Cody finally replied, "Just grab a cab." Summer would poke my head and say, "You're such a fool. You wouldn't even notice if he was cheating on you." More than once, I defended Cody, "He loves me very much. He's just too busy." Then, I'd cling to her arm and whine playfully, "Besides, I have you~" During my bachelorette party, we were drugged at a bar. Summer anxiously took out her phone and said, "Rebecca, I feel bad for you. If he still doesn't show up this time, you should just break up with him." In despair, I sent a distress message to Cody. Ten minutes later, he burst in like a madman. I thought, this time, I'd finally won, but he rushed past me and pulled Summer tightly into his embrace. "Summer, I'm sorry I'm late." I watched him carry my bestie away in shock. It turned out Summer's "mystery boyfriend", who was always there at her beck and call, was none other than my fiancé, Cody Langford.

When Jeremy Gosling proposed to me for the 9th time, I turned him down. He froze, a look of bewilderment on his face. "Why? We've been dating for seven years. What did I do wrong?" I smiled. "Your phone will tell you the reason in a moment." A second later, Jeremy's phone rang. It was my best friend, Sonia Sanderson. "Hey, master photographer, you promised to take pictures for me at the beach today. Where are you?" Sonia would always call Jeremy when he proposed to me. She had done so the last eight times. She would either ask him to take pictures for her, or edit pictures for her, or pick out new clothes for her trips. And every single time, Jeremy would leave me behind and go to her. Jeremy used to dislike her because she was the kind of woman he despised the most—the kind who would take half an hour to take pictures of food when eating out or pack two giant suitcases of new clothes for a trip. But I urged Jeremy to be more considerate of her because she was my best friend, and because her ex-husband had cheated on her and she had caught them red-handed... However, the way he became more considerate of her was by abandoning me again and again. Jeremy fell silent for a few seconds, then slowly spoke. "Alright, I'll come pick you up right now." He put the ring away, looked at me, and made another promise to me. "I'll finish the photoshoot quickly. When I get back, I'll personally put this ring on your finger." He left in a hurry. But Jeremy, I will neither believe you nor wait for you ever again.

I had a habit. Whenever I had a meal, watched a movie, or took a cab ride, I would always save an empty seat next to me. I believed that Theo Anderson would suddenly appear in the city I lived in to surprise me. However, throughout our long-distance relationship for the past three years, he never visited me. Not even once. I hence prepared our wedding by myself, and I fell sick because of that. My hands were trembling when I sent him a text message. [I’m having a high fever, and I don’t have any medicine at home.] Half an hour later, he responded. [So? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to grow wings and fly over to your place with medicine? I’m still reviewing a proposal. You should just contact the delivery services.] I could not even lift my fingers because of the fever, so I slowly drifted into unconsciousness. When I woke up, I saw my best friend, Eleanor Reid, with teary eyes. She passed a glass of water and a pill to me. “You’re too patient with him, that’s why he’s bullying you. If it were me, I would’ve already thrown a fit.” Two weeks later, Eleanor also had a high fever, so I immediately wanted to rush over to take care of her. However, she posted a photo online, and there was a man’s hand holding a spoon in the photo. [I’m sick, but thankfully there is a knight in shining armor who flew over 500 miles to take care of me.] I recognized that hand. Theo was wearing a watch that I had bought him after saving up for six months. I suddenly understood that it was not because he was busy that he could not be by my side. It was because he did not want to come over. Since that was the case, I no longer had the need to save an empty seat for him anymore.

I was an elite sniper in the special forces, and my best friend was a brilliant sniper too. She died after enduring unimaginable torture when she was captured while covering my escape. The military's top brass and her father, a general, demanded that I reveal the truth about that mission so they could honor her as a fallen hero. However, in front of everyone, I claimed I could not remember a thing. Her father was so enraged that he vomited blood on the spot. My comrades called me a coward and a traitor. Just when I was about to be sent before a military court, my fiancé, Sean Lawson, stood against the opposition and saved me. He promised to take me away from all the trouble. However, the moment I got into his car, he personally injected me with a powerful sedative. "You love keeping your mouth shut, don't you? Fine. Let's see how you like spending the rest of your life unable to speak." He threw me into an overseas black-site prison, where I endured relentless beatings and branding with red-hot irons, all so I could suffer the same despair he believed his beloved had endured before her death. Finally, he strapped me into a military-grade deep memory extraction device, determined to broadcast that so-called 'truth' to the entire world.