Cerita Pendek & Novel Best Friend Romance

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."

Before the Christmas holidays, the four of us besties from Kingsley City held a vote. We had one question on the table: should Mia Williams be allowed to join our tight-knit friend group? I thought my friends and my boyfriend would vote no, just like me. After all, Mia had ulterior motives. She had repeatedly mocked and provoked me, all while shamelessly flirting with my boyfriend. However, I could not have been more wrong. My childhood friend, Jason Miller, remained calm as he said, “I vote yes. Mia is great in every way. Jenna, your jealousy is getting out of hand.” My best friend, Lily Wilson, immediately backed him up. “Exactly! Jenna, you can’t be so selfish. You don’t get to decide who we’re allowed to be friends with.” I clenched my fists and turned to my boyfriend, Evan Taylor. He had already sent Mia an invitation to join our group chat. “Jenna, what’s one more person? Her joining isn't going to hurt you. Don’t be so difficult, okay?” That was when it hit me. The love and friendship I had always been so proud of had both betrayed me when it mattered most.

After secretly dating Nicholas Jones for three years, I got tired of keeping our relationship hidden, so I decided to share a little something about us online. But before I could hit publish, my coworker leaned over my shoulder and squealed, "Oh my God! You're following those two, too?" I followed her finger to the hottest thread on our company's gossip forum. One glance was enough to make my heart ache. The couple everyone in the building was obsessed with? My boyfriend and my best friend. My coworker kept gushing, completely unaware. "They meet on the fourth-floor terrace every single day. He always brings her cigarettes and snacks. "And you know what's even cuter? They lean in close to light each other's cigarettes. When it snows, they even tuck their hands into each other's coat pockets! Everyone's betting on when they'll finally go public." She kept talking, but I barely heard a word. The ringing in my ears drowned out everything. I took a screenshot of the thread and sent it to our group chat, the one with just the three of us. Nicholas replied with a single sentence. "It's a misunderstanding." … That evening, I ran into Nicholas and my best friend by the elevators. I had spent three years pretending we were not together, but maybe it was finally time for everyone to know the truth. I reached for the scarf in Nicholas' hand, ready to make our relationship public. Yet, he casually moved out of my reach and wrapped it around my best friend's neck instead. A few people nearby started snickering, and suddenly everything clicked. I thought, 'Of course everyone thought they were dating. Neither of them had ever bothered to set the record straight.' The elevator doors opened. Nicholas held one open, frowning at me. "Come on. We'll talk on the way." I stepped back and smiled. "No. I'm not going with you." After three years of being his dirty little secret, I was done—and so were we.

On our graduation trip, my best friend, Maddie, hadn’t managed to snag a lower bunk in our Amtrak sleeper car. As she stared at the upper bunk with a troubled look, my boyfriend, Hal, teased her. “What’s wrong, Short Stuff? Can’t climb up there?” Maddie smacked his arm. “If you’re not going to help, shut up.” Instead of getting upset, Hal nudged me. “True, switch bunks with her. Knowing her, she’ll fall on her way up and land right on top of you.” I shifted my gaze to Hale, my mind wandering back to the journey throughout. He’d bought two breakfast sandwiches at the station, one of them being a vegan option. Hal had called Maddie out for always watching her weight. Still, he offered the vegan sandwich to her and handed me one with bacon, even though it wasn’t my choice of protein. When we arrived at the station, we had to haul our luggage down a flight of stairs. He’d grumbled about Maddie overpacking even when she couldn’t handle the luggage herself. Yet, Hal carried her suitcase down the stairs while leaving me to struggle with my own by myself. When we were deciding where to go, he’d scoffed at Maddie for not being able to handle a bit of spice, kicking up a fuss that she was ruining my chance to visit New Mexico and see the hot-air balloons. Then, without a second thought, he’d booked us tickets to Florida instead. He was supposed to be my boyfriend, but whenever Maddie was involved, he was always saying one thing and doing another. His priority was always her. So, I shook my head. “No, I’m not switching.”

My best friend passed away from postpartum hemorrhage. Ethan said he didn't want his child to grow up without a mother. To repay my best friend for saving my life years ago, I became the child's mother. I gave up my career and ambitions, willingly becoming a full-time housewife. For seven years, I cared for both father and son as if it were my life's mission. Yet, he always remained distant, his tenderness surfacing only in the quiet intensity of late nights. Afterward, he would hand me a few birth control pills. On New Year's Eve, my throat felt strange. I swallowed the pills, only to immediately vomit them all out. Ethan was furious and accused me of harboring ulterior motives. As punishment, he locked me outside on the open balcony in the rain. Our son came running with an umbrella in hand. But he walked past me without a glance and handed it to the housekeeper who was heading out. In that moment, I made up my mind—I would leave.

My best friend and her boyfriend started a couples' vlog channel together, and it recently went viral online. I immediately followed it, watching every single upload. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that her blurred-out boyfriend acted suspiciously like my husband. When I mentioned it to her, she just flicked my forehead. "Girl, you're so crazy in love that you see your husband everywhere! Keep this up, and I'm gonna start getting jealous!" Blushing, I rubbed my head and quickly changed the subject. That was until my husband's company retreat, where I dragged Barbara Moore along to keep me company. Out of nowhere, our flight back suffered a severe emergency. Flight attendants handed out paper for everyone to write down their final words. With trembling hands, I finished writing mine, only to catch a glance at theirs. They had written down each other's names! My husband turned on his camera, framing both of them in the shot. "Barbara, I'm content to spend my final moments with you. Everyone, this channel won't be updating anymore. Goodbye." Neither of them noticed that off-camera, my face had gone deathly pale. Yet in the end, the plane managed to land safely. None of us died. I didn't cry or throw a scene. Instead, I simply tore up my final note, opened the car door, and got in. "What are you guys standing there for? Get in."

Today was the day Quentin York had promised we'd finally go public. After five years of dating in secret, our relationship was finally going to see the light of day. I stayed up all night putting together a five-minute video from every photo we'd ever taken together. Then I posted it the moment the clock struck midnight on his birthday. But the second I hit send, I was suddenly kicked out of the account. By the time I logged back in, the video was gone. At the same time, a message from Quentin came through. "Your best friend just got dumped. Seeing your video will only make her feel worse. Be good, okay? Let's wait a little longer." Then a message from Lena Xavier popped up. "Can you please do something about him? I just got to the bar, and he suddenly showed up and forced me into his car. Seriously, he's unbelievable!" The two messages arrived one after the other. Just like every trip we'd ever taken together. They were always up front, while I trailed behind. This announcement was the last chance I was giving Quentin. Since he didn't want it, then forget it.

My best friend, Susie Young, broke a bone while saving my boyfriend's mother. So my boyfriend, Josh Wagner, had to take care of her after work every day. At first, he still came home afterward. Later, he got tired of going back and forth, so he simply started staying at the hospital dorm. Whenever I asked about Susie's injuries, he always looked helpless. "It takes at least three months for an injury like that to heal. She's probably got a long way to go. If it weren't for repaying her for saving my mom, I wouldn't even bother taking care of her." When Susie heard that, she rolled her eyes. "You think I want you here? You can't even peel an apple properly." They acted so openly that it seemed like there was nothing going on between them. Then one day, my blood sugar dropped, and I accidentally fell down the stairs. My arm was dislocated in the fall. Drenched in cold sweat from the pain, I called Josh. He sounded helpless. "Susie has rehab today. I really can't get away. Take a cab to the ER yourself." I dragged myself to the hospital, my arm limp and weak. I stopped by Susie's room. When I pushed the door open, the room was empty. A nurse told me Susie had been discharged two weeks ago and was recovering at home. I stood frozen in the hallway, my hands and feet cold and numb. Then a post from Josh's mom popped up on my phone. "Josh is all grown up now. He finally brought his future wife home!" In the video, Susie and Josh were fooling around in matching aprons. They both saw the post and liked it at the same time. Neither of them offered an explanation.

On the day I won the national esports championship, my girlfriend of eight years told me she wanted to go on stage and personally present me with flowers. Standing on the podium, my heart was racing. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I'd hidden there, ready to propose to her in front of the entire nation. But what happened next shocked me. She giggled and, instead of handing me the bouquet, she gave it to her male best friend. Under the bright lights, they became the center of attention. The crowd cheered, and their congratulatory messages flooded the trending topics. Even his fans tagged me in posts, mocking, [I told you not to get in the way of our couple, now look at you.] I simply posted on Twitter, [Respect and blessings. Please be locked together forever.]

When my best friend’s husband beat her, my boyfriend and I drove over a thousand miles through the night to get her out. We worked perfectly together. I threw the punches. He blocked the door. My best friend froze for a second, then jumped right into the fight with us. On the drive home, the three of us took one look at the bruises and scratches covering our faces and burst out laughing. But as she laughed, tears began streaming down her cheeks. “You two better not break up. If you do, who am I supposed to choose?” Ryan rolled his eyes from behind the wheel. “We’re doing just fine, thanks. We’re not breaking up. You should worry about yourself.” From that day on, Maya lived with me. I looked after her, helped her get back on her feet, and encouraged her to start a new life. Whenever Ryan saw me fussing over her, he’d jab a finger against my forehead. “Sophie, do you even remember that I’m your boyfriend?” Then I returned from a three-month business trip and found a pink beaded charm hanging in Ryan’s car. No matter how many times I asked, he refused to tell me who had made it for him. My expression hardened. “We’re done.” Then I turned to my best friend. “Come on. You’re leaving with me.” But her face went pale. Instead of coming to me, she walked toward Ryan.

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.”

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.

My body has a special nourishing effect. However, both of my marriage engagements were called off. My first fiance was a religious man who broke his celibacy to make love to me. He canceled the engagement because he couldn't forgive himself. My second fiance was my childhood friend. He made love to me every night. Then, he apologized to me and said I couldn't satisfy him. When I was about to take my life, I saw them acting out a pure love story at my friend's bedside. "Sophia, I won't force you if you don't want to do it." "For you, I'm fine with keeping our relationship platonic. I don't mind if we never do it. I can hold myself back!" They treat her gently, as if she will shatter with a single kiss. I put the noose away and call my father. "Dad, I'm not against it anymore. You can send me to the son of the Lowell family to treat his impotence."

After saving my girlfriend, Tiffany Swain, I suffer from a concussion, leading to me getting rushed to the hospital. That's when I decide to play a prank on her. "Who are you?" When I see Tiffany's expression freeze on her face, I almost burst out laughing. But Tiffany suddenly points at her best friend, Janet Emery. "I'm your fiancee's friend. That's your fiancee, Janet Emery." This time, my expression freezes on my face. Janet approaches me at that moment. "That's right. I'm your fiancee." I squeeze out a smile at her. "Let's go home, then."

During our beach vacation, my wife, Carla Locke, lets her guy best friend, Alex Dugan, rub sunscreen all over her. "What have you been eating lately? Feels like you've gone up a cup size." The moment I see Alex's hand lingering on Carla's chest, the drink slips from my hand and shatters on the ground. Carla gets upset and tells me off for being so insecure. "We're just messing around. Why do you always overthink everything?" Alex shoots me a challenging look. "Don't be upset, Hubert. Carla and I are just friends. Sometimes, I wish I'd been born a woman. Then, people wouldn't keep misunderstanding our relationship." Carla leans into his embrace and shakes her head as she looks at me. "I wish you'd stop being so sensitive about this. Stop trying to ruin our friendship." However, Carla and Alex don't know that I'm from another world. After completing my mission in the previous world, the system rewards me with one wish. Since they insist they're just best friends, I'll be more than happy to grant his wish to become a woman.

On my boyfriend, Cole Anderson’s phone, everyone had a personalized contact name. My best friend, Zoey Collins, was saved as "Zoey-Bear." Me? I was just a plain, nameless ten-digit string of numbers. When I asked him about it, he just reached out and ruffled my hair. "I know your number by heart, babe. I don't need a contact tag to tell me it's you." He chuckled and added, "Besides, your bestie is practically the boss of both of us. If I want a future with you, I've gotta stay on her good side." Zoey backed him up, reassuring me with a gentle nudge. "Don't sweat it, girl. You're the actual girlfriend here. He knows where his heart belongs." I really believed Cole. I thought staying unlabeled meant I was etched deep into his heart. Until tonight, when my fever spiked to nearly 104 degrees. I texted him asking for help, but his reply was short and detached: [Drink plenty of water and rest. I'm stuck working late tonight.] Minutes later, I dragged myself toward the pharmacy across from the emergency room. My eyes widened as I caught sight of Cole through the front window. He wasn't at the office. He was standing by the counter, frantically reading the back of allergy medication boxes for Zoey. Panic was written all over his face. I stood outside in the freezing cold night air, my knees trembling as I dialed his cell. Through the glass, I watched his phone screen light up with those familiar, unassigned digits he claimed to know by heart. Without a second thought, he swiped the call away and flashed Zoey a reassuring smile. "Probably just another spam call. Ignore it." The abrupt dial tone buzzed harshly in my ear. I opened my messaging app, swiped left, and deleted our pinned chat history for good. After all, I never had a name in his world anyway. Nobody even noticed when a nameless number simply disappeared.

I worked late one night, and by the time I stepped outside, rain was coming down in sheets. While I waited for my ride, I texted my boyfriend, Landon Jarrett, to complain. [Seriously, it's pouring out here, and I didn't even bring an umbrella.] More than ten minutes passed before Landon replied. [Is that supposed to be a hint? What do you want me to do, catch a train over there just to bring you an umbrella?] [We're doing long distance. Why are you being so dramatic about it?] I froze. At the same time, my rideshare was canceled. Rain splashed up onto my pants, leaving the fabric wet and clammy against my legs. While I stood there distracted, my best friend, Zoe Langford, posted something on social media. It disappeared before I had time to look closely. When I refreshed the page, the nine-photo post had been cropped and rearranged. All that remained was a shot of a man cooking in the kitchen, his back to the camera. [Thanks to a certain someone, my brand-new heels didn't get a single drop of rain on them.] My hands shook as I zoomed in. I would have recognized him anywhere. It was Landon. The recipe notebook in his hand was the one I had made for him myself, filled with recipes adjusted to suit his tastes. By the time I got back to my apartment, I was drenched from head to toe. Then Landon messaged me as if nothing had happened. [Why aren't you answering? Are you home yet?]

My boyfriend was obsessed with efficiency and despised anything he considered a waste of time. When it came to our wedding rehearsal, he dismissed it as unnecessary and canceled it. When we went to City Hall to get our marriage license and saw a line, he turned around and left without a second thought. On our anniversary, I made reservations at an exclusive restaurant with private dining rooms, where we wouldn't have to wait in line. I even arrived early at his office to pick him up, hoping to avoid any delays that might give him an excuse to cancel our date. But as I walked in, I overheard his employees whispering among themselves. "Mr. Meyer has been waiting in line for the staff elevator every day just so he can ride down with Lucy." Sure enough, outside the elevator bank, Levi Meyer stood at the end of a line. It was something I'd never seen him do before. As they waited, he chatted leisurely about work with my best friend, Lucy Carr. When they finally reached the ground floor, I hurried over to meet them, only to be greeted by the irritation on Levi's face. "Emilie, we haven't even gotten our marriage license or had our wedding yet, and you're already rushing around acting like my wife?" I could only shake my head. To avoid office gossip and any appearance of a conflict of interest, Levi had strictly forbidden me from visiting his office. Yet here I was, having rushed all the way over in stilettos because I was afraid that he'd complain about delays and cancel our date yet again. Just then, Lucy suddenly looked alarmed. "Oh, no! I left my laptop upstairs. I have to go back for it. Don't wait for me." Levi stopped her, his tone softening at once. "I'll get it for you. You take Emilie and head out." He turned around and walked straight back to the end of the line, ready to wait for the elevator all over again. In one second, I realized that this relationship, one that wasn't even worth his time, was finally over.

I had stayed up all night to get the merchandise. It was then callously discarded by my boyfriend. On that stormy day, I knelt beside a dumpster and searched through bags of trash. Yarden Scott stopped in his tracks. “What are you looking for?” “My merch.” I did not look up. “I reminded you three times. It was in the left drawer of the sideboard.” His shirt was soaked from the rain. He subconsciously said, “Yvonne’s car broke down. I went to pick her up. I forgot.” He forgot. Last week, he threw away the commemorative ticket stubs I had stayed up all night organizing because he thought they were scraps of paper. The month before, he threw away the brooch my grandmother left me because he thought it was an old button. Every single time, he brushed it off with the same excuse. I gave a mocking smile. “You always remember everything when it comes to Yvonne, don’t you?” Yarden carefully wiped the hair tie Yvonne Jordan had left behind and answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s your best friend. That means I have to treat her very well. “If I keep her happy, our relationship will last. Isn’t it all for your sake?” I watched his practiced movements and felt completely drained. I could not say another word. I had reminded him countless times before not to touch the drawers in my study. He ignored me and threw away my collection of rare stamps. I told him again and again that I was allergic to mangoes. At a group dinner, he still ordered a mango shake for me. But when Yvonne casually mentioned that she had trouble sleeping, he started sending her music to help her sleep every single day. If Yvonne wanted to eat at her favorite restaurant, he would pull every string he could to get a reservation. To him, everything about me was a burden. Everything about Yvonne was worth his time. If that were the case, then I should not bother him any longer.

In the seventh year of our secret relationship, Alex Timbers became the hero pilot the whole country was talking about. His flight had run into extreme weather. Somehow, on nerve and skill alone, he'd brought the plane down safely. I watched the livestream the whole time, crying so hard I could barely stand. Then, ten minutes later, during an on-site interview at the airport, a three-year-old boy ducked under the barricade and threw himself into Alex's arms, sobbing and calling him Dad. Right behind him came my best friend, Natalie Wilde, her eyes red. In front of the entire country, Alex pulled them both into his arms. Before I could even process it, two more familiar faces appeared on screen. My mother, Susan Healey, hugged Natalie, her voice breaking. "It's over now, Natalie. Alex made it back alive. You and the boy finally have someone to lean on." My father, Dale Healey, clapped Alex on the shoulder, beaming. "Your family of three is whole again. Nothing beats that." In that instant, every drop of blood in my body ran cold. Over the past seven years, I'd had three miscarriages because of Alex. Each time, he'd held me and sworn, eyes red, "Mary, for your reputation, I can't let you have a child out of wedlock. Once I make captain, we'll get married." I laughed until the laughter turned into tears, blurring my vision. It wasn't just Alex. My parents had been standing with them the whole time. I'd been the only one left waiting, seven years, in a place no one could see. I typed out in the livestream's comment section: [Congratulations.]