Bittersweet Romance Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

Stephen's beloved Phoebe fell into a coma. To everyone, I became the villain—accused of harming her out of unrequited love for Stephen. Mute, I had no way to defend myself before Stephen locked me away in the basement. He said I would only be freed when Phoebe woke up. Broken and hopeless, I succumbed to fear and starvation, eventually developing amnesia. Day by day, my memories began to slip away. Yet, Stephen, tears in his eyes, begged me not to forget him. But all I wanted was to leave it all behind and keep moving forward.

I was in a temporary shock from an allergic reaction. The two guys I had grown up with didn't even look my way. One of them was busy helping Vivian Byrd carry a pile of gifts, while the other was snapping pictures of her at some popular social media spot. It was a stranger passing by who called an ambulance and got me to the hospital, saving my life. The next day, Vivian called, her tone almost smug. "Trish, Zeke and Hendrick were so exhausted after shopping with me yesterday. I heard you threw a tantrum and ended up in the hospital. Should I come visit you?" I simply replied, "No need." Zeke Benson and Hendrick Peay were my childhood friends. They once treated me like I was everything to them—promising to pluck the moon and stars from the sky and to protect me forever. But ever since Vivian came into the picture, their world no longer revolved around me. I thought for a moment and then dialed my mother's number. "Mom, I'll accept the marriage arrangement."

The day after my fiancé abandoned me at our wedding, I boarded a plane to another city - Silverbrook Haven. He comforted his “girlfriend”, saying, "Sarah's been spoiled since childhood. She'll calm down and come back in a few days. You don't need to feel guilty." My friends were all worried I'd keep obsessing over Henry and cause another huge scene. But what they didn't know was that I had already accepted someone else's proposal. This trip to Silverbrook Haven was to get married. As the wedding day approached, I sent back everything Henry had given me over the years, without missing a single item. Including that engagement necklace I once treasured like a precious jewel. This is our final goodbye - what's done cannot be undone.

After my engagement to Simon Page, he secretly planned a trip abroad with Yara Watson, the woman he had loved for years. The day before their departure, he was chatting with his friends and Yara in the lounge of a golf club. "Simon, you just got engaged, and you're already taking Yara on a trip. Aren't you afraid Rosalyn will find out?" Simon scoffed. "I hired a guy to pose as her suitor. He’ll keep her so occupied that she won’t have time to bother me. "If something really happens between them, even better. I can use it as an excuse to officially end the engagement and be with Yara openly." Standing outside the door, I trembled as his words sank in. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at the handsome man behind me, his expression filled with guilt. "Then let’s grant him his wish and get married." But just as I was preparing for the wedding, Simon suddenly knelt before me in agony. "Rosalyn, I was wrong. Please, don’t marry him!"

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

I never thought I'd end up severely injured and lose my baby on my wedding day. That day, I walked toward my husband full of excitement, only to watch him rush right past me and straight into the arms of his secretary. Confused, I turned around and saw someone in a wedding dress lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. It was his secretary, Quinn Fable. Steve York, my soon-to-be husband, panicked and scooped her up, but Quinn stared at me with tearful eyes, crying, “Summer, I ate the candy you gave me… Why would you want to hurt my baby? Please, Steve, save our child… please…” Steve was beside himself with rage. Without a second thought, he kicked me hard in the stomach. I collapsed into the champagne tower, shards of glass embedding into my skin. Blood poured from between my legs. Yet, they still clung to each other, crying bitterly as if I didn't exist. When the ambulance arrived, they didn't even hesitate to push me aside to save her first. “Forget about her!” Steve shouted. “Save Quinn! She's lost so much blood. She must be in terrible pain! As for Summer, that vicious witch… she deserves to die!” Due to the delay, I suffered a ruptured uterus and missed the window for proper treatment. And as if that wasn't enough, Steve personally announced that our marriage was null and void. He marched straight to the clerk's office with Quinn and made it official. On my ICU bed, I received a text from him. “Pack your things and get out. Quinn wants you out of her sight.”

When my father's business collapsed, he racked up an astronomical debt to the Andor family. And when they finally came knocking, he did what no loving parent should ever do—he collateralized me, his only daughter, handing me over to Cassian before vanishing off the face of the earth. For ten long years, I stayed by Cassian Andor's side. He treated me with a tenderness so indulgent it bordered on worship. There was nothing I asked for that he would not give; there was no whim of mine he would not entertain. Everyone in our world knew me as his princess. I grew up believing with certainty that once I came of age, he would sweep me into his arms, march me down the aisle, and make me his wife. But reality—cold, brutal, and as dazzlingly cruel as the world we lived in—had other plans. Instead of the ring I had dreamed of, Cassian gifted a breathtaking pink diamond—the very symbol of eternal devotion—to his assistant, Heidi Torres. As if that wasn't betrayal enough, he threw a lavish celebration in her honor, a veritable explosion of flowers. He knew I was deathly allergic to pollen. Yet he still left me stranded there, drowning in a sea of blossoms. Eventually, I collapsed in a violent asthma attack, gasping and clawing for air, teetering on the edge of consciousness. And Cassian? He merely tightened his hold around Heidi in his arms and cast me a cold glance. "Your allergies have been fine for ages," he said with a sneer. "Why the sudden drama today? Don't tell me you're faking it." At that moment, as I lay there humiliated and struggling to breathe, I realized there were exactly seven days left until my twentieth birthday since when I could register a marriage.

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”

After my father passes away, my mother—now married into the wealthy Hawthorne family—brings me to live with them. Everyone laughs, saying I'm being groomed to become either of the Hawthorne brothers' bride. Even I start to believe it. But later, when I try to marry one of them, both reject me. The older brother says, "I'll need to marry for business one day. Why would I marry her?" The younger one scoffs. "She's older than me. Who'd want an old woman?" But the very next day, the two of them propose—together—to my assistant. I instantly become a joke. After that, I call my mother. "Mom, I'm willing to marry into the Grant family."

When I got up from Ted Wiley's bed, he lazily handed me my underwear. "I'm changing the door code, so don't come by unless it's urgent." I froze, blurting out, "Why?" He grinned. "She said yes to being my girlfriend yesterday. I can't have her spotting you here—she'd flip. It took me forever to win her over."

On the eve of our wedding, I find out that the wedding invitations have Travis Somerson's and his assistant, Victoria Cademere's names printed on them instead of mine. I demand an answer from Victoria, who bursts into tears and tells me that she has accidentally mistyped the bride's name as hers. Travis calls me right away. "It's just a naming mistake, Harper! Must you make such a huge deal out of such a small mistake?" He even calls me a petty and jealous woman who can't even tolerate the presence of a female employee in his vicinity. Five minutes later, Victoria uploads another social media post. Apparently, not only has she uploaded a photo of the wedding invitation, but she also adds a couple photo of her and Travis being lovey-dovey. The caption reads, "Mr. Somerson told me that even if I screw up, he'll be there to help me settle everything." If a female employee were to provoke me in the past, I'd have forced Travis to fire the former. But this time, I no longer care about him anymore.

Nathan Brooks had been tangled up with his secretary for far too long. All I did was ask one simple question. “Has Chloe Bennett resigned yet?” That was enough to make him hurl the glass in his hand at me. “You jealous, bitter woman,” he snapped. “Because of your jealousy, you drove Chloe away. “I told you I’m not divorcing you, Emily. Isn’t that enough for you?” I said nothing. I only looked down at the cut on my arm, where the shattered glass had sliced through my skin, then quietly bent down and picked up the broken pieces. What Nathan didn’t know was that I had already drawn up the divorce papers.

At the wedding door games, my best friend, Justin Winston, suggests that my fiancee, Tiffany Bastion, feel everyone's abs while blindfolded so that she can guess who the groom actually is. Amid everyone's cheers, Tiffany gives every groomsman a nice feel before shaking her head firmly. "This is too easy! If I can't even recognize my own husband, we might as well call off the wedding!" When Tiffany is about to touch me, Justin suddenly flashes me a mysterious smile. Then, he takes off his shirt and moves to stand in front of her. The next moment, Tiffany shrieks excitedly, "This is my husband! I can't be wrong about this!" Justin lets out a chortle. Then, he grabs Tiffany by the wrist and begins navigating her hand from his abs down to his groin. "Why don't you give this a good feel? Do you still think this is your husband?" Tiffany just smiles bashfully as she roams her hands all over Justin's body. As I look at the pair's overly intimate actions, I sneer at them before stuffing the wedding bouquet into Justin's hands. "Since you two are in sync with each other that much, you might as well host this wedding on your own."

I raised three wolf beastmen, and they never stopped wanting me in bed. I collapsed, too tired to even think. And through the fog, I caught pieces of what they were saying. "Tch. With that body and that stamina, she really thought she could handle all three of us." "Relax. Once she's worn out enough, she'll hand us over to her sister." "Her sister will treat us way better anyway." So I gave them exactly what they wanted. I swapped them for my sister's snake beastman—the one who seemed completely uninterested in sex. But strangely enough, they were now so upset that they were nearly in tears. "Carol, we're yours. Only yours!"