Cerita Pendek & Novel Countdown Romance

The first time I meet my girlfriend, Nadine Grant‘s parents, she stops me at the door. Her childhood friend and neighbor, Nick Lockwood, has just pulled a tarot card. The card says I'll attract trouble today, so I shouldn't go inside. Before I can say a word, Nadine reaches for the gifts in my hands. "Wait in the car for a while," she says. "When dinner's over, we'll go home together." I don't let go. "I've spent over a month getting ready to meet your parents, and you're not even letting me in?" Displeasure is written all over her face. "Andy, I'm doing this for your own good!" Before I can argue, she shoves me back into the car. Nick smiles at me through the car window. He says, "Andy, don't take it the wrong way. I'll go in and keep Mr. Grant company for you." Nadine stands beside him without looking back once. This is all happening because of one tarot card Nick pulls. I'm the one who's here to meet Nadine's parents, yet I'm somehow the last person they want inside. Then, I have no reason to become part of this family either!

To make up for past regrets with his first love, my husband, Pierce Ronan, lied that he could see everyone’s lifespan. He told me I had sixty years left, but his first love, Jessica Stone, had only seven days to live. So, for those seven days, he said he had to fulfill the promises of their youth. He brought her home, cared for her, and when they went back to their old college campus to relive their love, I didn’t protest. When he confessed his love to her and planned the wedding of the century, asking me to be the bridesmaid, I didn’t raise my voice. It wasn’t until he wanted to break the final taboo — in our marital bedroom — that he looked at me with guilt in his eyes and begged me to move out. The housemaids watched, snickering behind their hands, but I only smiled and nodded in agreement. I packed my bags, carried our child, and moved into the guest room next door. Seeing how obedient I remained, Pierce was touched. “I promise, this will be the last time I wrong you. Once Jessica passes, I’ll make it up to you.” What he didn’t know was that I had already seen through his lies. What he also didn’t know was that the one truly dying of cancer, the one with only seven days left to live, was me. Three days remained. Then, I would be gone.

“Ma’am, there’s no marriage record between you and Mr. Mark Henderson in the system.” My fingers tightened around the pregnancy report as my legs nearly gave out beneath me. Five years ago, Mark was recruited by a top law firm abroad with a high-paying offer. Without hesitation, I followed him across the ocean. He had told me, “Once I’m settled, I’ll take care of your status.” However, five years had passed, and my lawful permanent residence was still “in process.” Meanwhile, his assistant, Tonya Irving, who followed him abroad, had secured hers under his sponsorship. Back then, I made a scene, insisting on a divorce so I could return home. For the first time, the ever-composed Mark, an attorney, lost his calm. He grabbed my hand and said, “Tonya’s all alone out here, and it hasn’t been easy for her. Helping her is just the right thing to do. You’re my wife. Your status is only a matter of time. My work is sensitive right now, and I need to avoid any complications. You understand, don’t you?” But I had understood him for five whole years. My phone suddenly rang. Mark’s voice came through, light with laughter. “Tonya’s permanent residence was approved today. We’re celebrating tonight. I need you to get home early and cook up a feast.” I stared at the marriage license in my hand—now nothing more than a worthless piece of paper. A cold chill spread down my spine. As it turned out, I was never his legal wife. I had no legal status and no protection, much less rights secured for the child I was carrying. After hanging up, I scheduled an abortion and booked the earliest flight home. This time, I wouldn’t look back.

In the third year of working to raise money for the medical expenses of my girlfriend, Christine White, she once again fell into a critical condition. During these three years, I used up all my savings and mortgaged the house my parents had left me. I delivered takeout food, washed dishes, and even sold my blood just because she said she would marry me when she recovered. I continued to naively gather money for her medical expenses. While delivering takeout at the entrance of an upscale nightclub, I heard her boasting to her friends. "That idiot Micah Jenning. I just made up an excuse about being sick, and he believed me like a lapdog! Not only did he empty his tiny savings, but he actually worked delivering food and driving Uber! I heard he even worked on a construction site a few days ago to make money! Tell me. Isn't he the ultimate simp? How pathetic.” At that moment, the heart that loved her for three years suddenly died. I dropped the food delivery and turned to call the rich heiress who had waited for me for three years. "Hayley Smith, you once said that you would marry me if I were willing to marry you. Does that statement still stand?"

Juliet Sutton has always been hopelessly devoted. But the day her first love is diagnosed with cancer, she hands me a pill that can make someone forget. She says, "Matthew, Wilson doesn't have much time left. Give me three days. Let me give him the wedding he always dreamed of. "I won't break your heart. This pill only causes temporary memory loss. Once the ceremony is over, you take the antidote, fall in love with me again, and then we'll remarry." Seeing the resolve in her eyes, I take the pill and swallow it without hesitation. What Juliet doesn't know is that I'm the one who developed the pill. There is no antidote. In three days, I'll forget her completely.

My fiancé Gavin decides by drawing lots whether I or his childhood friend Chloe gets to accompany him to the World Cup. In our twelve years together, Chloe won the chance to accompany him to both previous World Cups. Each time, he’d gently coax me: "The draw chose Chloe. I can’t go back on it, can I?" "Next time, no drawing lots. I promise I’ll go with you." I believed him and waited four years. This year, I excitedly bought new sunscreen and packed my luggage early because he said that, after the World Cup, we’d go to the Maldives for an early honeymoon. I was full of anticipation, but when we were about to leave, my fiancé froze. He looked at me, his eyes filled with guilt once again: "Chloe’s birthday wish was to accompany me to one more World Cup. This time, I’m still going with her." "I’m sorry, babe. Next time, I promise I’ll go with you." My heart suddenly clenched, and I stood there in silence. Meanwhile, he was meticulously planning the trip, even thoughtfully packing pads for the other woman. Suddenly, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I called my company’s director: "I’ll take the overseas assignment to Northern Europe."

At our final dinner before my graduation, my brother, Ethan Sawyer, suddenly gets a rainstorm alert on his phone. It isn't for our city. It's for Lindale, two hundred miles away. The next second, my childhood friend, Yohan Harrison, and my boyfriend, Connor Langley, receive the same alert. All three of them look down at their screens at the exact same time. Ethan is the first to text Willow Quinn. "Bring your umbrella." Yohan immediately checks whether the high-speed train is delayed. Connor has already opened his ride-hailing app. He plans to go pick Willow up because she's getting off work late. That's when I notice something. Lindale is the second city saved in all three of their weather apps—the same city where Willow has been doing her internship for the past six months. Whenever the temperature drops, someone reminds her to wear something warmer. When it rains, someone reminds her to bring an umbrella. When a hurricane is coming, someone makes sure to book her train ticket in advance. Meanwhile, I've mentioned three times in our group chat that I received a job offer from a studio in Fordham. No one has ever asked if it's cold there. Before Connor leaves, he even reminds me, "Make sure to ping me tomorrow morning so I can check Lindale's weather forecast." I nod silently, keeping quiet about the fact that I only have a few days left to accept the offer. Once I sign my name, I'll soon be flying five thousand miles away. After that, none of them will ever need to know what kind of weather awaits me in my new city.

When she was finally certain that Luke Jefferson would never fall in love with her, Raine Stone asked for a divorce and left with Zach Jefferson, their son. After the divorce, the usually aloof Luke abruptly started trying to win her heart back. He was no longer as cold as before, and he started to beg for her forgiveness by blocking Raine’s path. During his breaks, he spent time with Zach and prepared all sorts of surprise gifts. He even protected them and shielded them when a robber tried to stab them, leading to him spending some time close to death’s door. As Zach begged for them to reunite, Raine finally felt her determination crumble and agreed to get remarried with Luke. But right after getting remarried, she and Zach were on their way back home when they got into an accident. They went through more than ten hours of treatment, and Raine came out of it with a kidney gone, while Zach lost his vision. On the second day of the accident, when Raine and her son were taken past the doctor’s office, she heard a shocking secret.

After we'd had a fight, my childhood sweetheart, Adrian Hale, deliberately agreed to take a sophomore named Sienna Reed to Beach House Week on Cape Cod. He was certain I'd do what I always did: get jealous, start a fight, then swallow my pride and beg him to come home. But when he returned to Kingsley University with Sienna a week later, he found me unexpectedly easy to deal with. He gave Sienna my lead creator slot in the National Robotics Challenge. I didn't quit. I organized her test data and rewrote her presentation for her. He backed Sienna in the student council election and picked apart my work during the public debate. I didn't argue. I admitted I could have prepared better and calmly watched her take my seat. Then he tried to hand Professor Moretti's recommendation to her too. I still didn't lose my temper. I even delivered a neatly organized application checklist to Sienna myself. Smug with victory, she told him, "See? You can't keep spoiling a woman like Claire. Give her the cold shoulder, knock her down a peg, and she'll learn to behave." Adrian agreed. He told her she understood people better than anyone. Afterward, he came to see me alone. He promised he'd secure me a direct-entry PhD position at Kingsley and, in an astonishing show of generosity, said he'd propose in front of everyone at graduation. But Adrian had forgotten one small detail. While he was busy entertaining Sienna at Beach House Week, he'd personally approved my transfer to Zurich. I packed the commemorative pin, old records, and love letters he'd given me into a box and sent them back. The Hale family ring he'd planned to propose with would never touch my finger. I was headed for a much bigger world, and I wasn't coming back.

When Tessa Shoreman read Henry Jennings' cancer report, she immediately paid her hard-earned money of sixty thousand to the hospital. She had saved the money from working part-time while she was in university. However, she was worried the money was not enough, so she held back her fear as she sold a kidney to the black market to get more. As she walked to the ward door with a heavy bag filled with cash, she heard shrill laughter coming from inside. "That cheap woman, Tessa Shoreman, got tricked by us again. Haha!" Tessa's hand gave pause right when she was about to push the door open. What did he mean by saying she was tricked? Tessa looked through the glass on the door to see inside the ward. When she left, the man looked extremely weak, but he was now sitting up lazily in bed. Henry had a cigarette in his mouth, and he was blowing smoke rings nonchalantly. He did not look like a cancer patient at all. "It's been two years, and that woman still has no idea." "If she hadn't beaten Serene to first place, Henry would never have left behind his life as a rich heir and planned such an elaborate scheme to become a working-class man living in a cheap rental home. The way that cheap, penniless woman looks at Henry is so amusing." "We agreed that the punishment ends when Henry and Serene get engaged. It looks like time is almost up. We've probably punished her 108 times in the past two years." "The first time was lying to her that Henry didn't have a suit for a job interview. She worked tirelessly for 72 hours straight before she earned enough money for one, but that suit was given to the domestic help to use as a cleaning cloth. The second time was tricking her into believing Henry had a high fever. She forfeited during the finals of a scientific research competition to race home and take care of Henry in the hospital…" "Sigh. Too bad it's coming to an end. I'm going to miss entertaining myself with her."

Ethan Hale was the name every pilot at North Ridge Air Base looked up to. I was Ava Morgan, his wife and his only flight partner. To earn my ace qualification, I had to complete three final evaluation missions within the review period. I failed all three. I refused to accept it as coincidence, so I followed the access logs, flight records, and maintenance files until every abnormal detail pointed to one person. Chloe Bennett. When I took the evidence to Ethan, I heard him arguing with his deputy, Liam Reed, behind the office door. "You are putting Chloe forward for the ace-track recommendation? She can barely hold steady in a back seat," Liam said, his anger barely restrained. "Ava is my wife and my flight partner. Chloe is different. She has nothing." Standing outside the door, I suddenly laughed. Then I turned around and accepted the return offer from the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. Before I left, I gave Ethan three things. And he would regret them for the rest of his life.

I loved my husband, Damian, for fifteen years—from school uniforms to a wedding dress. Everyone said he doted on me down to his bones. Until I saw him with my own eyes, shielding another woman in his arms. All because of one absurd misunderstanding, he chose to cheat on me as payback—and even let his mistress get pregnant without a flicker of guilt. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I just smiled and tricked him into signing the divorce papers, ready to disappear from his world for good. But I never expected that his best friend, Lucian, had been waiting for me in the shadows all along. I used to think he was gloomy, that he hated me. I never knew that he had loved me for fifteen years like a madman. When Damian finally realized his mistake and got down on his knees begging me to come back, he found me locked in Lucian's arms. Damian stared at his former best friend, almost unhinged: "She's my wife! You went behind my back and took my brother's woman—do you have any morals?!" Lucian just flung the signed divorce certificate in his face, and smiled—cold, and utterly possessive: "I'm chasing my own wife. What morals do I need?" "And watch your filthy mouth. From now on, you call her Mrs. Kane."

During a family dinner with Liam, I brought up the idea of getting married sooner and starting a family. He immediately assumed I was after his family's wealth and only wanted to marry him for his money. In front of everyone, he slapped me more than a dozen times. Then he turned around and pursued his jealous childhood sweetheart. I grabbed his hand and begged him not to leave, but in a fit of rage, he shoved me down the stairs. That shove ended up breaking both my legs and fracturing my skull. I spent a month in the ICU before I finally regained consciousness. This time, I didn’t make a scene. Instead, I called my mother overseas. "Mom, about the inheritance you mentioned last time… I’ll take it."

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.

My husband, Arthur Banks, had just been promoted to colonel and ordered to report to his new post in Miami immediately. Under the military relocation program, he could bring two family members with him. Our neighbors envied me. They thought my daughter and I would have a better life in Miami. But I knew he'd already promised those two spots to his widowed adopted sister, Emily Carter, and her daughter, Lucy. In my last life, his decision had hurt and angered me so much that I'd filed a complaint. That forced Arthur to change the list. A few years later, Arthur came home a success, ready to take Emily and Lucy to Miami, only to learn that Emily had sunk into depression and died. He took Lucy, thin and frail, back to Miami with him and divorced me. Soon after, he sent his own daughter more than 1,000 miles north to learn etiquette. No one expected the car to get caught in a blizzard on a mountain road. My daughter's body was never found. But he wasn't the least bit heartbroken. He even told everyone that Lucy was his real daughter. "Isabelle is your own daughter! How could you be so heartless!" When I confronted him, he backhanded me across the face. "If you hadn't filed that complaint, I could've taken Emily away from here, and she never would have died of depression! "You two killed her, so it's a life for a life!" Hatred swallowed me whole. I soaked the house in gasoline and dragged Arthur into the flames with me. When I opened my eyes again, Arthur and I were both back on the day he filled out the list of dependents.

After Graduation, I Married Lucas Bellmont, the Hottest Star Captain in American Hockey. Three years into our marriage, he suddenly became obsessed with my body, a complete 180 from his usual cold demeanor. He wanted me night after night, saying he wanted us to have a child. Despite the ache in my body, my heart swelled with sweetness. I thought he'd finally accepted me. At a gala, I shared the news with my best friend—Lucas's adopted sister, Clara. She ran off in tears. Lucas, usually so composed, went pale. He lashed out at me for saying such things in front of Clara, then left without a second thought. I followed, worried, and found them locked in an embrace. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have married her. If it weren't for your pregnancy, I wouldn't be touching her now." "Everything I'm doing—making her have the baby quickly so we can swap it with ours—it's all for our future. So our child can be the rightful heir." "Clara, just hold on a little longer, okay?" Lucas's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. All for another woman. His adopted sister. My so-called best friend. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I turned around and called my lawyer for a divorce agreement. Since he'd never loved me. In seven days, I'd be gone from his life for good.

My boyfriend, James Hendrick, had an obsessive need for personal space. It took me five years of pleading before he finally agreed to let me move in with him. As I dragged my luggage and waited downstairs at his apartment building for five hours, his phone remained switched off the entire time. Just as I was shivering from the cold, I looked up and noticed the lights in his apartment were on. Thinking he had gotten home early, I asked the security guard to let me in. After the doorbell rang three times, the door finally opened. However, the person standing there was not James. It was Serene Alison, wearing one of his oversized shirts. "Maria? What brings you here?" Serene asked innocently as she wiped her half-dry hair. Then she explained, "James said there would be a hurricane in the next few days. He was worried my apartment might leak, so he left me his keys and told me to stay here for half a month." Through the crack in the door, I saw the entryway shoe cabinet stuffed with her high heels. I froze where I stood. Just then, James' WhatsApp message popped up on my phone. "The company suddenly sent me on a business trip. Let's postpone moving in until next month." At the same time, I saw Serene's post from ten minutes earlier. "Having a caring big brother is the best. He even changed the bedsheets to my favorite pink by himself." The attached photo showed James making the bed for her. Only then did I finally understand that his so-called obsession with personal space had only ever applied to me.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

Justin Davidson and Eva Walker, the long-lost heiress of the Walker family, fell in love. But Eva's adopted sister, Stella, drove a wedge between them. Even after Stella’s death, Justin couldn’t let go of her. He trampled Eva’s dignity, hurt her body, and forced her to wear Stella’s wedding dress and ring when he proposed. Eva’s parents only had eyes for Stella, too. To pressure Eva further, Justin even went so far as to hurt Eva's grandmother, the one who had raised her. On the day of the wedding rehearsal, Eva finally decided to walk away. However, when the truth came out, Justin dropped to his knees and begged her not to leave.

Married three years. Stood up three years. Today was the last time I bothered showing up. Surprise—he bailed again. Still clinging to hope like a total idiot, I called. One last shot. "A-Aurora, I'm busy. Just wait," he muttered. And then her voice cut in. All breathy and smug: "That old woman can't satisfy you, huh? Paolo, be gentle." Click. Right on cue, Marco Medici—loyal, patient, saint-like Marco—sent his 99th proposal. This time, I didn't leave him hanging. [Want to come over for bollito misto?]