Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Contract Marriage Novels

Hadden's sister had merely choked on some water at the pool while she was swimming, and for that, he shoved me into the pool after tying me up. He left me with only a small hole for air that was barely an inch. He said I would have to pay double for every grievance Julia suffered. I never learned how to swim. There was nothing I could do but try my best to breathe as I sobbed and begged him to let me out. Yet all I received was a lecture. "You'll never learn if I don't teach you a lesson now." I struggled to stay afloat, but… It took five days before Hadden's anger dissipated and he put me out of my misery, but it was already too late. "I'll let you go this time, but you'd better not make the same mistake again!" I had already drowned to death.

"How can there be a perfect choice in this world—one that betrays neither the Sandharan Order nor the one you love?" It's a romantic line, but it has nothing to do with Rosalie Stone. Her fiance, Bradley Wakefield, is a man revered like Sandhara himself, but it's not because of her that he leaves the Sandharan Order. She thinks he will never fall in love. But later, she learns that it's just her that he won't fall for. And so, she gives up on him. She gives herself seven days to forget about Bradley.

I was married to Chad Caldwell for ten years. I met all his girlfriends during our marriage. Whenever he got bored and wanted to move on, I was his best excuse. "If you marry me, you'll end up like her. Too familiar and no spark left." On our anniversary, I wiped tears for his latest ex, a college girl, while he was at the movies with his new fling. She used up a pack of tissues, and I seemed to see my old self in her. Afterward, I asked Chad for a divorce. He was confused. "Why not wait a bit? Maybe I'll turn over a new leaf." I gave a faint smile but said nothing. Instead, I booked a plane ticket and flew across the ocean. If he wouldn't turn around, I'd take the first step.

It is 9:00 pm, and a soft glow still lights the master bedroom on the Lowe residence's second floor. "Helena, there's only a month left before the marriage agreement ends. Once it's up, I'll go ahead and arrange the fake death." Sitting at her vanity, Bianca Lane types the message and sends it to her mother-in-law, Helena Johnson. A reply comes back almost instantly. "Bianca, you've worked so hard these past ten years. You've taken such good care of Sebastian and even gave birth to a child for our family. "To me, you've always been my daughter-in-law. Why not just forget about the agreement?" Reading the message, Bianca unconsciously tightens her grip on her phone before quickly typing her response. "No, Helena. Let's just stick to the agreement."

Right after I die, my wife goes on a date with her first love. I once told her, "If I die, I swear I won't love you in the next life." She scoffs. "Gladly. But people like you live forever, don't they?" Just as she wishes, I die. However, right then, she holds my urn close, whispering, "Are you still mad at me?"

I was Randy Johnson's contract wife. For five years, I tried every possible way to make him fall in love with me. But aside from showing me concern in bed, he ignored me the rest of the time. When a piece of equipment at the amusement park fell and struck me, the first thing he did was rush to his beloved first love. She was startled but unscathed. Yet, he rushed her straight to the hospital. When a towering cake display collapsed on me, leaving blood streaming down my arm, he still chose to comfort his first love, who merely had a stomachache. Since he loved her so deeply, there was no reason for me, his contract wife, to stay. So I let him go and freed myself in the process. I chose to study abroad, vowing never to see him again for the rest of my life. I never expected… this time, he would be the one to regret it.

The paralyzed heir of Deshonte City's elite social circle demanded that my sister marry him as a bride to "ward off bad luck." But she was already pregnant—with my fiancé's baby. So the so-called "marriage arrangement" disaster ended up landing on me. My father was so furious he smashed his teacup right then and there. "Absolutely not! Even if Catherine is adopted, she does not deserve to be humiliated like this!" My fiancé, though, grabbed my hand. "Catherine, how could I ever fall for someone else? It's just that Veronica is carrying my child—I can't let her walk into her doom. You'll just take your sister's place for now. Once things settle down, I'll come get you." Watching him put on this whole show of devotion, it suddenly hit me that marrying a paralyzed heir might actually be more peaceful than staying here. I pressed my father's hand down and said calmly, "Dad, Mom… I'll go." On the day of the wedding, I wore a stunning white gown and sat beside my groom in his wheelchair. My ex-fiancé sent me a message: [I'm sorry you're going through this. Wait for me.] I handed the phone to the man next to me and smiled. "Honey, looks like my brother-in-law is awfully concerned about me."

On the day of the wedding, Tiffany Blake publicly slipped a wedding ring onto her secretary's finger. "I'm pregnant. The baby is Chad's. Once the child is old enough, I'll marry you." Guests whispered among themselves, convinced that I—the one who had chased after her for a year—would just swallow my pride and take it. But that very night, I accepted the marriage arranged by my family and vanished from her world without a trace. A year later, I attended a charity gala with my wife, Nicole Cooper. She had a last-minute conflict and sent someone from her regional office to pick me up. I never expected it to be Tiffany, whom I hadn't seen in a year. "You're back just in time. My maternity leave is almost up. From now on, you'll be the one taking care of the child."

On the way to the Spring Garden Ball, I was seized by men with murder on their minds, and the undercover guard meant to protect me vanished without a trace. I clawed my way through three days that should have killed me and finally dragged myself back to the estate, only to find a whole line of men kneeling in front of my guard. "Your Highness, if you fancy Lady Melanie, you could simply ask for her hand. Why disguise yourself as a bodyguard and stay glued to her elder sister, Lady Elizabeth's side, going so far as to have men dump her out in the wilderness just so she wouldn't outshine your beloved?" Julius Fitzroy's expression didn't so much as flicker. He kept turning the sapphire ring on his finger. "Melanie is only a concubine's daughter. She's sensitive by nature, and I was afraid a hasty proposal would frighten her off. This was the only way." That was how I found out. The Prince Julius had been living at my side in disguise this whole time, and it had never been about me at all. It was always about getting close to my half-sister. My heart turned to ash. I shoved open my father's door. "I'll marry the Crown Prince, sickly or not."

On the morning of my wedding, a man in a groom's suit showed up at my door. Before anyone could speak, he walked in and told my stylist to do his hair first. My groomsmen and I had no idea what was happening. When we asked who he was, he looked me up and down and smirked. "Meredith didn't tell you? I'm the groom today. You're not needed. You already got your name on the marriage certificate, right? Count your blessings and take the hint." I held it together and called Meredith Soames. Her voice on the other end was as gentle as ever, but it made my stomach turn. "I should've told you about Royce. But he was the one who was there for me when I had nothing. The marriage is yours. Your name's on the certificate. Just let him have the ceremony." That was when I realized that in the past five years, I had never truly seen her for what she was.

Rhys Lockhart, a brash and unruly trust-fund heir, comes back home from abroad and discovers he's already been married off without his consent. His bride is Elara Waverly, the head of Waverly Corp, and a full eight years older than him. Rhys naturally wants no part of it. So, when he hears she's the disciplined, immaculate type with a serious thing about cleanliness, he makes a point of it. He shows up in ripped streetwear and a backward baseball cap, a row of silver studs lining his ear. His parents turn red with embarrassment and move to apologize, but Elara simply leans forward with quiet composure, her slender fingers gently steadying them. Her voice is cool and clear. "This arrangement already asks too much of Mr. Lockhart. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me." Rhys freezes, and he slowly lifts his head. Beneath the cool detachment in her gaze, her amber eyes are filled with warmth.