Melodramatic Romance Short Stories & Pregnancy Novels

My husband is a geologist. He took his soulmate, who was suffering from a terminal illness, to an active volcano, to fulfill her wishes. However, I was pushed into the lava when we were there. His soulmate then said, "Don't worry about me, just go and save her. I'm going to die soon anyway." I cried for help, "Please save me, I'm pregnant." However, my husband scolded me coldly, "A cancer patient has the right to live too. How can you be jealous of her and claim you are pregnant? Celine doesn't know anything, unlike you. You're an expert at this, you should know what to do. Just save yourself!"

Carl Larson's intern is about to die, and her only wish is for him to sleep with her once. I disagree, and he says I'm petty. "It's just a one-time thing. She's about to die! Why do you have to assume I'm up to something dirty?" Is that so? I've seen them together more than once, though. I later agree, and he's relieved… until he sees me lying on his operation table for an abortion. He widens his eyes in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" I smile. I want him to murder his child. I want him to regret this for life.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

I ended a pregnancy before it reached three months—and he never even knew. He was too busy rekindling things with his ex, still tangled in old flames. To make her feel comfortable, he gave her my master bedroom like it was nothing. He even turned what was supposed to be our engagement party into a welcome party for her. He let me become the laughingstock of everyone around us. So I turned away, cut up my engagement dress, and agreed to marry the man my family had chosen for me.

Two weeks before my wedding to Alexander Hayes, he invites his friends over to our small home. During dinner, Alexander keeps groping me, whether intentionally or not. After they finish eating, I overhear their conversation as I clear the dishes and walk past the study. "Alex, Lydia's quite something. I touched her earlier, and her skin's so soft. She nearly pulled my soul out. "If you don't mind, let us guys have some fun with her once she pays off the debt for you. We'll help you cover the cost of whatever Kay wants." Alexander chuckles softly, his voice casual and careless. "Sure, I don't mind. I've been sleeping with her for so long, I'm already sick of her anyway. "Just make sure she doesn't rat us out to my grandpa... Actually, forget it. She's blind anyway, so she won't figure it out." For two years, I've devoted myself completely to taking care of Alexander, yet he's ready to throw me into other men's beds, using my body to settle his debts. I stand silently at the doorway, feeling absolutely nothing. Of course, I know that someone else has been replacing him for a year. The person who holds me close night after night isn't him, and the child in my belly isn't his either.

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."

I've planned seven wedding ceremonies in total, and not once has my fiance, Zachary Gardner, ever shown up for it. The first time, his adopted younger sister, Louise Foster, bursts into tears because she lost her passport at the airport. It was the dead of winter, but he dumped me by the side of the road and left me. The second time, Louise's dog sprained its ankle. Zachary stuffed the ring back into its box and rushed to the animal hospital to accompany her. Every time I argue with him about it, he declares nonchalantly, "We can get married anytime, but I can't let Louise be upset." Everyone around us agrees with him, saying that we're all family anyway, so I shouldn't be so petty. None of them has seen Zachary and Louise kissing fiercely on the dance floor. Today is the seventh wedding ceremony. Once again, he turns to leave after getting a call. I grab the corner of his shirt and say in a choked voice, "If you leave this time, Zachary, I won't marry you anymore." He stops in his tracks and peels off my fingers. "Wait for me," he says before rushing off. What he doesn't know is that this time, I won't be waiting for him any longer.

My husband's first love gets engaged. To make her regret it, he abandons me, his newlywed wife, and joins a research project down at the southern tip of the earth. I've made 999 attempts across several years to visit him, with each one ending in failure. After five years, I stopped going. During a lively birthday party, he suddenly shows up. When he sees my slightly bulging belly, he howls in anger. "I spent five years at the research base, and not once did you care about how I was doing! Who's the father of the bastard child you're pregnant with?" "It's none of your business," I calmly reply.

Waking up hungover next to my arch-nemesis – the city's most notorious fuckboy? Worst. Morning. Ever. I handled the walk of shame with icy dignity, but fate had a bigger curveball: one month later, two pink lines. My baby. My rules. His involvement? Zero. My flawless plan hit a snag when morning sickness ambushed me in the office restroom. He walked in. His eyes locked onto my still-flat stomach, darkening with something dangerous. Before I could blink, he had me pinned against the cold tile wall. "Who's the father?" he growled. I met his glare with a frosty smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know? Definitely not you." Then it happened: a hot tear hit my neck. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don't... don't leave me. Please." Me: ...Dude. Seriously? THIS IS YOURS!

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.

At the supermarket, a child slams into my pregnant belly. The pain is so intense that I collapse to the floor and cannot get back up. I groan, "My phone... Call my husband..." Only after giving the child a slap does the woman pick up my phone. Apologizing repeatedly, she searches my contacts for "Husband". She calls several times, but no one answers. "Don't panic. I'll have my husband come handle this," she says, taking out her own phone and calling her husband. He answers after the very first ring. "Honey, our son got into trouble again! Adjourn your meeting and get over here. He knocked into a pregnant woman!" Ten minutes later, Shawn Leake, who is supposed to be working in another city, arrives at the scene. The first thing he notices is the child's swollen cheek. A look of concern crosses his face as he frowns and searches the area. He grumbles, "Was it really necessary to hit him? Who exactly did he run into—" The moment our eyes meet, his voice cuts off abruptly.

My infertile wife, Quinn Hart, finally gets pregnant after seven years of marriage. But our baby boy is diagnosed with a rare disease shortly after being born. In order to treat our child's disease, Quinn and I have sold everything we own. Alas, we still aren't able to gather enough money to save him. Left without a choice, I can only take on jobs far away from home. Since Quinn is left penniless, she and our child are forced to room with other people. One day, I receive a work order that comes with lucrative rewards. Apparently, I'm required to clean windows on a tall building. Coincidentally, the address points to the building where Quinn is rooming with others. I slowly descend to the window, hoping to give Quinn a surprise. But that's when I notice the boisterous atmosphere inside that particular room. I notice Quinn holding our baby boy with one hand while her other hand is intertwined with another man. "Everyone, meet my husband whom I'm secretly married to for many years, Chester Langston. Today is our moving day as well as the celebration party for our son. "Thank you for attending the grand occasion. We'd like to toast to you in order to show our gratitude." I feel my blood freezing in my veins at that moment. Meanwhile, Quinn is typing away on her phone a short distance away. The next thing I know, I hear my phone chiming once. It seems that a new text has appeared on the screen. "Honey, I'm already pinching pennies just by sharing the same bed with other people with our son. But the thing is, I don't have enough money to last the month…" I can hear Quinn's "husband" teasing her with a soft chuckle through the open window. "So, this is how you've been lying to him, huh?" Quinn just smiles at him casually. "I did everything out of love for you, didn't I? In fact, I've been pretending to be infertile for seven long years just so I can keep my promise to you. And now, I'm pretending to be poor to the point that I keep telling Nicholas that I'm sharing a bed with strangers every day."

I was born naturally dazed, living every day as if I were tipsy. So when Adrian Blake forced his way into my life, I thought he was only playing with me. Every time I failed to run away and he caught me again, I gave him a thumbs-up. "Your hide-and-seek skills are improving fast. I only hid for half an hour and you already found me." And just like that, I muddled through three years of a game where I ran and he chased. Until today. I found out I was pregnant after nausea and vomiting, and I took the report home, wanting to tell Adrian Blake, whom doctors had diagnosed as infertile. But then he got into a car accident and lost his memory. His childhood sweetheart cried as she blamed me. "If he had not rushed back to celebrate your birthday, none of this would have happened." "He has forgotten you completely. I am begging you. Stop clinging to him, okay?" I slowly walked away for a while, my lower belly aching faintly. I had the feeling I had forgotten something. Forget it. I would think of it when I remembered.

On my fifth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Sutton, announces her pregnancy on her social media feed. "After going through artificial insemination for the 39th time, I finally got pregnant with your child as I wished." The accompanying photo features Rachel lacing fingers tightly with her first love, Damon Calloway. I leave a like on the photo calmly. Then, I give them my blessings. The next thing I know, Rachel calls me on the phone. She roars at me furiously, "Damon is diagnosed with cancer! What's wrong with me bearing a child for him? Garrett Whitaker, you're being too much right now!" I reply coolly, "Then come back and file for a divorce. Once the divorce is through, you can go ahead and find yourself a husband who won't 'become too much.'"

To give her family an heir, my wife got pregnant seventeen times, only to miscarry every single time. Everyone thought I was infertile. I visited every famous doctor I could find, swallowed countless herbal prescriptions, and even went through thirty treatment procedures, but I still couldn't give her a healthy child. Under pressure from the outside world, I finally agreed to let Talia Isaacson borrow sperm from her first love. On Talia's eighteenth pregnancy, the baby was finally healthy. She told me excitedly, "The Isaacson family finally has an heir. You won't have to suffer anymore. No matter what, I'm giving birth to this child." Just when I thought our life could finally return to normal, I overheard Talia talking to her first love. "Talia, you're so smart. You made Gavin believe he was infertile. He'll never guess you did it on purpose." Talia stroked her belly with a gentle expression. "Gavin's just too stupid. He believes whatever I say. If I hadn't wanted to force him into a divorce, I wouldn't have needed to abort all those children. "Once I give birth, we'll take the baby and leave this place forever." I looked down at the scars and damage left on my body by the medication and surgeries. My heart turned to ash. After seven years of marriage, we had finally reached the end.

My boyfriend, Gabriel, was a romance junkie. For ten years, we chased the ultimate high, skydiving from thousands of feet, diving into the deepest oceans. We lived fast and hard. Until I got pregnant. Gabriel held me tight, eyes gleaming. "Let’s climb Mount Denali. I’ll propose to you at the top of the continent." I hesitated. The doctor said my chances of conceiving were near zero. This baby couldn't survive that kind of strain. Gabriel didn't argue. He just slipped the ring onto my finger and walked out. Seven days later, I saw his post on Instagram. It was a photo of him at the snowy peak, down on one knee before another woman. My best friend, Tiana, commented underneath, “I survived days in a cramped truck just to make your dream come true.” Gabriel replied, “You’re still the best. If I were with you back then, you would’ve climbed this peak with me, pregnant or not, right?” A tear dropped onto my stomach. I finally got it. He didn't care about me. All he cared about was the thrill. So, anyone could fill the role. Ten years of his wild romance was enough. It’s time for me to choose peace.

My wife once told me she never wanted kids. Then one day she came home with a four-year-old child. I did some digging on my own and found out she was pregnant again, and she was using an overseas study program as a cover so she could carry the baby somewhere else. Once the truth came out, she and I argued for days without getting anywhere. When my parents caught wind of it, they wouldn't stop pushing me to let it go. "It's not that big of a deal. Why make such a scene and embarrass everyone? She's a woman, and her health isn't good. Just let her have this." Sadly, I looked at my wife, who'd gone quiet. Ten years of marriage, and she was still just as beautiful, her eyes carrying the same light they always had. "Send the child away, and get rid of the one in your belly. I'll pretend none of this ever happened." She hesitated for a moment, then stood up to leave. I thought she was agreeing to my terms. Instead, on her way out the door, she tore our marriage certificate clean in half. "The child is innocent. I can't do that to him. And I don't want to get rid of the baby I'm carrying now, either. He was a dream I gave up on once before. "He's terminally ill now. I don't want him to die with regrets, so I'm going to give him a family. "Don't worry, it's only a divorce on paper. I'll still come back and be with you all the time." I looked down at our wedding photo lying on the floor and let go of any hope of spending the rest of my life with her. "Don't bother," I said. "Once we're divorced, let's not see each other again."

To leave something for her dying first love, my wife, Elara Wynn, decides to carry two babies at once, implanting his previously frozen embryo while she's already pregnant with our child. On the day of the procedure, she even stations 50 bodyguards outside, convinced I'll show up and try to stop her. But I never come. Once the embryo is successfully implanted, she finally relaxes. She doesn't understand why I'm making such a big deal out of it. All she wants is to leave something that belongs to her first love. She doesn't see anything wrong with that. Afterward, she comes to find me and says, as if she's doing me a favor, "Callum, aren't you happy I'm carrying twins now? Try to be the bigger person. What kind of example are you setting for the kids?" What she doesn't know is that while her first love's embryo survives the procedure, our baby doesn't. And I've already filed my immigration papers. In ten days, Callum Vane will cease to exist. I'll leave the country under a new identity, and she'll never see me again.

My wife, Lily Tanner, is a mortician. She's trying to avoid getting fired during her pregnancy, so she keeps locking herself in the morgue. I may be her husband and colleague, but even I am not allowed inside. I don't want her to work too hard, so in the middle of the night, I sneak into the morgue to do her checks for her. However, she reacts by going berserk and sounding the alarm. Ever since then, I've been very careful around her, fearing that it may affect her pregnancy. Later on, with Lily repeatedly receiving praise from the deceased's family, our department decides to hold a commendation ceremony for her. The whole family seems relieved. However, as soon as Lily receives her award, I ask her for a divorce. The room instantly falls silent. Tearing off the medal on her chest, she complains in a wounded tone, "I'm working myself to the bone even when I'm pregnant, and I'm doing all this to give our child a better life. You're worried that I'll outperform you and overtake you as the top mortician in the industry, aren't you?" I look away from her, a cold smile forming on my lips. "Spend the rest of your life with those bodies, then. I don't want the child anymore, and I'm definitely divorcing you."