Bias Romance Short Stories & Regret Novels

I was a painter, but a car accident took my eyesight. When I was at my lowest, it was my childhood friend, Connor Pitt, who stayed by my side the whole time. He became the only light left in my life. Later, we got married. However, two years into our marriage, I accidentally discovered a recording on the computer. “Connor, thank you for saving me. But you hid the truth from Faye and took her corneas for me. When she wakes up, how are you going to explain it to her? What if she calls the police?” “She won’t find out the truth. I won’t let her. She’s blind anyway. I’ll marry her and keep her under my control, right by my side. June, for you, I’d do anything.” I was stunned, and a shiver ran down my spine. The salvation I thought I had found had been a lie from the very beginning. After sending a copy of the recording to my phone, I scheduled an abortion at the hospital. If that was the case, then it was time for us to go our separate ways.

On Frankie Sutton's birthday banquet in the tenth year of us being together, all of our family, friends, and relatives were confident that I'd propose to him again. After all, I gave up on my family's assets that are worth tens of millions of dollars back in Glufford just so I can travel all the way to Arkvine with Frankie in order to start a pig-rearing business. I've been clinging to him for ten long years so that I can marry him. But even when the clock hits 5:00 am, I'm still nowhere to be seen in my wedding gown. All Frankie receives is a text from me, stating that I'm breaking up with him. In ten years, I've reared countless batches of piglets and watched them grow into full-fledged pigs. Alas, I can never warm Frankie's heart up with my love. Now, I choose to abandon him and the piglets I'm forced to rear.

All because I opened a window to air out the room, my husband’s childhood sweetheart, Celine Ashcroft, caught a cold. In a fit of rage, my husband, Ronan Blackwood, had his men bind me and drag me down to the ice cellar despite my being five months pregnant. "Don’t think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can bully Celine. If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I’ll make you repay it a hundredfold!" Shivering violently from the cold, I knelt through tears, begging for forgiveness. I promised that from now on I would serve his precious sweetheart well to atone, that I would never again let her suffer even the slightest harm. He only gave a cold order to seal the cellar, saying I needed to be taught a lesson so it would be burned into my memory. A week later, when Celine finally recovered from her cold, he finally remembered me in the cellar. "Vesper, have you truly realized your mistake? As long as you agree to kneel and apologize to Celine immediately, I’ll spare you." What he didn’t know was that by then, I had already frozen stiff in that ice cellar. And the child he had treasured so dearly no longer showed even the faintest sign of life.

Cleo Carrington used to be Northvale's brightest spark—wild, fearless, impossible to pin down. And then she married Damian Joubert. The most controlled, rigid heir in their world. Damian ran like a machine. Perfect standards. Zero slack. And he expected the same from his wife. Cleo loved noise—clubs, music, bodies moving. He had every venue in the city blacklist her. She loved freedom—the blazing Afriyan sun, the northern lights in Icelorn. She raced cars. She jumped out of planes. He took her passport. Shut it all down.

On our son's fifth birthday, the three of us went to watch a meteor shower. In the middle of it, my husband answered a phone call and left in a hurry. Late that night, our son had an asthma attack. The only medicine he needed was in my husband's car. I clutched my son and ran through the empty wilderness, stumbling in the dark as I called my husband over and over again. All I got back was an icy message: [Something urgent. Do not disturb.] The next day, he finally called. However, the voice on the other end was not his. "Last night, my dog suddenly fell ill and died. Elias was worried I wouldn't take it well, so he stayed with me all night. He has just fallen asleep. If you have anything to say, you can tell me." I stroked my son's pale, bluish face. "Tell him," I said, "we're getting a divorce."

At our daughter’s three-month milestone party, my husband Garrett’s so-called "best friend" publicly humiliated me. “Hey, Vivian. I heard you're a little loose down there after popping out the kid.” "If it's that bad, you better get some tightening surgery quick—don't wanna mess up your marriage vibes!" Garrett shot her a playful glare and snapped, "Knock it off, Scarlett! You can't just say whatever pops into your head." Then he turned to me with a breezy shrug. "She's just like that—total tomboy. We grew up together; she means no harm." Scarlett shook her half-exposed breast and pouted, "Oh, come on, don't take it personally, Vivian. Honestly, I'm kind of jealous of you." "See, my problem is the opposite. I'm way too tight—hurts like hell during my period. No clue who's gonna get lucky with this later." Then she cut her eyes toward Garrett with a playful wink. " Oh right, you've tried it before, haven't you?" The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes drifted toward me, barely concealing their curiosity. I smiled, set down my wine glass, and looked at Scarlett with fake concern. "That's strange. I don't remember making it that tight when I did your surgery."

On the day of my birthday, I'm burning with a fever that almost hits 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Because of that, I've called Tristan Graham more than a dozen times. He never picks up any of them. In the end, my dad has to take me to the hospital. When we walk past a corridor, he suddenly stops in his tracks. "Mr. Graham? What are you doing here?" I raise my head to see Tristan and Madison Franklin walking from the OBGYN department. Their fingers are tightly laced together. Tristan is even carrying a bag of medication. Birth control pills as well as ointment meant to be used on private parts can be seen in that bag. My mind goes blank at that moment. All I can do is stare at Tristan. As soon as our eyes meet, Tristan frowns slightly at me, though his gaze only lingers on me for a second before he turns to look at my dad. "I'll be hosting a banquet in the garden tomorrow night. Remember to decorate the garden nicely." Dad quickly accepts the order. "Don't worry, Mr. Graham. When Luna's fever breaks out, I'll deal with this task right away." Tristan is momentarily stunned by Dad's words. When he notices my unnaturally flushed cheeks, he instinctively takes a step toward me. But that's when Madison tugs his sleeve. "Stop wasting precious time on a gardener's daughter, Tristan. Let's go. I'm still in pain, you know." Tristan stops in his tracks instantly. Then, he leaves with Madison. Later on, he pays for my hospital bills. Our seven-year underground relationship that's considered a taboo is also paid off as well.

The house was on fire. My husband–a firefighter–rescued our son first. And the kitten his first love had left behind. Then, to comfort the frightened woman, he rushed off without a second thought. When his colleagues asked my son if anyone else was still inside, he glanced in my direction… and shook his head. "There's no one else." I was later found screaming for help, barely alive. Outside my hospital room, my son looked at me with disappointment. "Why didn't you just burn to death in there? "If you were gone, Aunt Maya could be my mom."

In my fifth year with the fallen heir, Connor Garrett, I make 99 wishes for him. As a result, I age and turn into an old woman. He, on the other hand, rises to become the richest man. However, he immediately turns around and proposes to his first love, Nadine Zeigler. He says to her, "Nadie, you have no idea how much I went through to marry you." Nadine toys with a diamond ring worth billions and asks, "What about that follower of yours who grants wishes?" Connor gives a carefree scoff. "She's just a tool who traded her youth for my fortune. Does she really think I will marry an old woman?" I stand in the shadows and silently make my final wish. Without my help, I would like to see how he will rise again this time.

After I had helped our law firm win nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a row, my husband, who had kept our marriage hidden for years, finally agreed to hold a wedding and make our relationship public. However, I waited until nightfall, and he never showed up. Instead, I saw a photo of him and his female assistant kissing in front of everyone at their wedding on Instagram. Her caption read, [I was just being mocked by my coworkers for being a bachelorette no one wants, and then my lawyer hero came to save me. From now on, I’ll be his perfect employee during the day, and he’ll be my loving husband at night.] In the photo, the wedding rings on their ring fingers were impossible to ignore. For a moment, everyone expected me to break down and make a scene. However, I simply smiled and left a comment under the post. [When are you two having a few kids? I’ll be sure to send over a big gift.] The very next second, my husband, who had been unreachable all day, finally called me. “Brit got pregnant out of wedlock, and the man who did it abandoned her,” he said coldly. “Her parents are extremely traditional. If this gets out, they’ll kill both her and the baby. As a lawyer, don’t you have any compassion for her at all? “Delete that comment right now. Apologize to her personally,” he continued. “Once she gives birth to the child and everything settles, I’ll hold another wedding with you.” I looked down at the divorce papers in my hand. Then, I let out a soft snicker. “No need,” I said. “Mr. Larson, just wait to receive our divorce case.”

After the New Year, some of my husband's former students are back to visit him. So, my husband, Isaac Cooper, treats them to dinner. They greet us warmly, but when they first see me, there is a hint of surprise in their eyes. In the private room, Isaac takes my hand. Everyone starts teasing us. "Mr. and Mrs. Cooper are so loving. I'm so jealous!" I lower my head shyly and excuse myself to the restroom, only to overhear two of his students chatting. "I was startled just now. I thought Mr. Cooper's wife would be Lilith Walker." "But Mrs. Cooper looks so much like her. When she walked in, I almost mistook her for Lilith." I freeze on the spot. I know Lilith is Isaac's ex-girlfriend, but I have never seen her in person. Cold water runs over my hands. As I look at my carefully made-up face in the mirror, I suddenly feel a wave of nausea.

To snatch a limited-edition piece of jewelry for his mistress, my blind brother was shoved down a flight of stairs. Ethan Sterling, one of the best surgeons in the country, refused to enter the operating room — all because of a tiny cut on his precious sweetheart's finger. He forged a forensic report and bought Daniel's life for a mere fifty thousand dollars. Even my own daughter turned against me: "You're a liar! Aunt Vivian is the best person in the whole world!" Later, in front of everyone, I stepped off the third-floor terrace and plunged into the void. Ethan Sterling lost his mind. He knelt by the river for three days and three nights, clawing his fingers raw against the stone. A year later, desperate to save his daughter from going blind, he knelt in a downpour begging that mysterious, world-renowned surgeon. I stood there holding my umbrella, utterly unmoved. "I'm afraid you have the wrong person, Mr. Sterling. Miss Holloway died a year ago." "I'm Mrs. Ashford. I'm here to acquire Sterling Medical."

I am Nicholas Greene's assistant and also his secret girlfriend of ten years. At the age of 29, I bring up marriage with him. He responds coldly, "I can give you love, but I can’t give you marriage. If you are desperate to get married, I can introduce you to another man to deal with your parents." I accept calmly. A few months later, he stops me at the door. His eyes are bloodshot as he questions, "Didn’t I tell you to just pretend? How did you end up actually getting a marriage certificate with him?"

My half-sister and I were both married on the same day. She was supposed to be sent away to a distant kingdom as a peace offering, branded with an ill-fated destiny. I was supposed to marry the Crown Prince and become the future queen. Yet the night before our weddings, my stepmother orchestrated a switch. In my previous life, I stormed into the wedding ceremony desperate to expose the truth. My sister immediately threatened to kill herself to prove her innocence. The Crown Prince caught her just in time, but the shock caused her to lose the baby she claimed to be carrying. The Crown Prince was furious. He accused me of fraud and attempted murder of the royal heir. He ordered my head shaved and my face mutilated before having me thrown into the peace bride's carriage. I became the laughingstock of the entire capital. My half-sister took my place as Crown Princess, gave birth to twins, and eventually became the beloved empress. Meanwhile, I died on the road to that foreign land. When I opened my eyes again, drums and music thundered outside. The wedding procession was already waiting. A voice rang out, "By royal decree, we have come for the bride!"

After Caleb Turner went deaf in both ears, his first love, Janessa Skriver, left the country immediately. As I watched how desperate and hot-tempered he'd become, I could only sigh before choosing to stay with him. Little did I know that I'd be staying for three years straight. I became Caleb's muse throughout the years. Despite his deafness, he was still capable of playing the most touching musical piece. There was a time when Caleb told me affectionately, "I'll die without you." Three years later, Caleb's hearing is restored. While the Turner family celebrates the fact that he can hear once again, they are also making our wedding preparations at full throttle. Everyone is elated, to say the least. But I'm the only one who notices the brimming love in Caleb's and the newly-returned Janessa's eyes as they hold hands with each other. On the day of our wedding, I board the flight intended for another country with an invitation I've received three years ago.

On the last day of the year, my music player app pushed out my 2025 listening report. My keyword was 'Resonance.' I had not actually spent much time listening to music that year. My account had mostly been used by my boyfriend, Jeremy Steward. A small line of text appeared underneath. [At 4:00 A.M. on December 1st, you were still sharing the same song with someone. So this is what love looks like, staying awake through the night.] My breath caught. December 1st was my birthday. However, that night, I had gone to bed early. Jeremy had rushed off right after cutting the cake, saying he needed to go back to the office for overtime. Almost as if possessed, I tapped my trembling hands on the unfamiliar profile that showed up as my most frequent interaction. Their keyword for the year was 'Exclusively Yours.' My heart skipped. I opened the details. [This year, you and this user listened to songs together late at night 688 times. Every time is a private whisper between souls.] Right then, a message from Jeremy popped up on my phone. [Babe, I have to work late again tonight. Don't wait up for me. Sleep early, okay?] At the same moment, that unfamiliar account posted a new update. A photo of two hands intertwined inside a car, fingers tightly laced together. [I love working late with him the most. We'll listen to music together for a lifetime.]

For the past seven years, I've been taking care of my paralyzed mother-in-law in the countryside on my own till the day she draws her last breath. That's when I finally get to see my husband, Arthur Hughes, whom I haven't seen for a very long time, hurrying back to the countryside. After the funeral, I pack up everything belonging to me and our daughter, Tessa Hughes, seeing as we're about to move to the city with Arthur soon. To my surprise, a woman seeks me out and shows me her marriage certificate. "I'm the actual wife of Arthur Hughes. Now that my mother-in-law has passed away, you've completed your mission. From now on, you are not allowed to contact Arthur anymore." I remain rooted to the spot, my body already shaking like a leaf uncontrollably. At that moment, I feel as though my mother-in-law is laughing at my stupidity, based on how she's smiling at me from her portrait.

In the third year of chasing the famously untouchable Hayden Lane, I still hadn't managed to marry him. The Lane family had an old rule. Any woman who wanted to marry into the family had to personally draw a fortune stick and receive a supreme blessing. I tried ninety-nine times. Every single time, the result was the worst possible omen. Before my hundredth draw, I personally saw Hayden replacing every fortune stick inside the cylinder. "No matter how many times she tries, she can only draw the worst omen." At that moment, I finally understood that he truly didn't love me. But that was fine. I didn't want to marry him anymore either. I tossed the fortune cylinder aside and turned away. Then I called my parents. "I accept the marriage alliance with the York family."

Everyone knew William had turned his back on the entire Jamison family for me. He refused the marriage alliance with the Wyndham family in public, and the Jamisons locked him up for it. He even lost his right to inherit. When they finally released him from the cellar, he collapsed into my arms, pale and shaking. "Stephy, even if I die, I will never marry anyone else." Later, the Jamisons relented. Since I could not have children, they agreed to let us be together on one condition: William had to give Elvira an heir. From that day on, he repeated the same words to me: "Just wait a little longer." The first time, I caught him and Elvira in bed with my own eyes and broke down on the spot. He held me and said, "Just wait. She'll be pregnant soon." The second time, after she safely gave birth to a daughter, he said, "Father still wants a grandson. Just wait a little longer." Hence, I kept waiting. I continued to serve Elvira. I saw the marks on her neck every day and said nothing. By the third spring, she finally gave birth to a son. I thought everything was finally over. But at the baby's one-month celebration, he suddenly went into allergic shock. Everyone decided I was responsible. William locked me in the cellar with his own hands. Then he looked at me with cold eyes and said, "Stephanie, no matter how desperate you were, you should never have hurt my child." At that moment, I finally understood how ridiculous I had been all those years. Thus, when the cellar door opened again, I called his father, Brent Jamison. "Didn't you always want me gone? Fine. I'll leave. But I'm leaving clean. And when I'm gone, William will never find me again."

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".