Plot Twists Romance-Kurzgeschichten & Pregnancy-Kurzromane

When Ethan Thamson was broke and struggling, his first love left him for a richer man who could give her the designer lifestyle she wanted. He spiraled until I found him unconscious on the side of the road and took him in. On my 18th birthday, our friendship became something more, and before long, we were inseparable. For the next eight years, I stayed by Ethan's side as he fought his way from a nobody on the streets to one of the most powerful men in the city. And through it all, Ethan treated me like I was the center of his world. Even after all these years, he still remembers the smallest things, like bringing me a heating pad and a warm drink whenever I have cramps. I never doubt his love—until I'm eight months pregnant and find an almost-empty box of condoms in his car. Ethan laughs it off. "I lent the car to Mason. I'll tell him to clean up after himself next time." After eight years together, I believe him. One month later, Vanessa Coleman, Ethan's first love, shows up at our door. She's pregnant. Vanessa pulls down her collar just enough to reveal the marks scattered across her skin and smiles. "Has Ethan ever wanted you this badly? In the past year alone, we've been together 108 times in hotels, 15 times in his car, and 18 times in the bed you share with him. "You were never the love of his life, Natalie. You were just the woman he used to get over me. "And now that I'm back, he doesn't need you anymore. So why are you still holding on?"

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

When an earthquake strikes, I'm trapped under one end of a collapsed slab. On the other end is the student I've been sponsoring. My husband, Sebastian Chesson, tells the rescue team to save the student first. The rescuers hesitate. "The other victim might not make it if we do." Sebastian replies coldly, "The other one is my wife. I'll sign a waiver—she's not that easy to kill." I survive, but the three-month-old baby in my womb doesn't. Later, a rescuer hands me a card. "Mr. Chesson said this is five million dollars in exchange for your life." Meanwhile, Sebastian and the student's fairytale romance dominates the trending charts, praised by the internet as the epitome of true love. On our tenth wedding anniversary, I return home to find the student lounging on my bed, wearing my pajamas, playfully teasing Sebastian. Just then, a call comes in from Sebastian's student, who's been eyeing me for a long time. His voice is low, flirtatious, and sinful. "Ms. Sinclair, you always remind me to get to bed early… If you really care, why don't you move in and make sure I do?"

I rushed back from out of town overnight when my best friend, Siobhan Coventry, went into labor. After learning that both mother and child were safe, I got teary-eyed with emotion. "Have you decided on the baby's name yet?" I asked. Her smile stiffened unnaturally for a moment. "Leonard Kessler. We'll call him Leo." "Kessler?" I stared at her in surprise. "I thought you said the baby would take your last name. Is his biological father's last name Kessler?" She gave me a vague hum before quickly changing the subject. "Ginny, I've been craving the wraps from that place in the college town." I nodded, forcing my doubts aside, and went out to buy one for her. It was only when I reached the hospital entrance that I suddenly remembered I hadn't given her my gift yet. I hurried back upstairs, only to see my husband—who had been away for two years, supposedly carrying out a classified project and never once returning home—walking into my best friend's hospital room with a bouquet in his hands. He sat down beside her bed and took her hand, his face full of concern. "You were so amazing, my love." My mind went completely blank, and all the blood rushed to my head. My hand was still on the doorknob when I saw my mother carrying the baby over to them, beaming with delight. "Look—the baby smiled as soon as he heard his daddy's voice." So her baby's last name was taken from Vincent Kessler—my husband's last name. The classified project… The whole story about having a child without the father in the picture… It had all been a lie. Even my own mother had helped her goddaughter and son-in-law deceive me. The people I loved most in the world didn't want me involved with this family at all.

When a wave of labor pain brought me to my knees in the hospital hallway, Orson Caldwell, a brilliant doctor, was just about to wheel me into the delivery room. Just then, his phone rang. When he answered the call, his expression fell. "Seraphina, Cressie's teddy is having trouble giving birth. It's in critical condition, but the vet clinic in her town is closed. I have to perform a C-section on it." I clutched my stomach as blood slowly began to seep between my legs. "I'm fully dilated. If you leave now, what am I supposed to do?" Orson looked annoyed. "We'll get another doctor to do it. You're only giving birth, but Cressie's dog could die. I'll make it up to you and our child someday." With that, he rushed into the elevator without even taking off his white coat. I laughed through my tears, pulled out my phone, and called my father. "Dad, I'll agree to the arranged marriage."

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 wife, Sophie Souza, cheats on me when she gets drunk. That's when she gets pregnant with her assistant, Dylan Hart's baby. By the time I come across Sophie's pregnancy report, she's already three months into her pregnancy. I tell her outright that I will choose to forgive her as long as she aborts the baby. But Sophie asks me coldly, "Which one will you choose? Me or your dignity?" I remain silent for a very long time afterward. In the end, I leave a divorce agreement behind and completely vanish from Sophie's world. But that's when she claims that she regrets making me choose.

I have a premature rupture of the membrane when I'm 38 weeks pregnant. I have no choice but to undergo an emergency C-section. To my surprise and dismay, the anesthesiologist is my ex-boyfriend, with whom I broke up eight months ago. God, save me! Could I please have another anesthesiologist? It's my ex-boyfriend's child I'm giving birth to, and I suddenly don't want to bring the child into the world anymore!

My ex-boyfriend’s first love insisted on dragging me onto the drop tower ride, which caused me to have severe bleeding from the trauma. When it happened, he used her fear of blood as an excuse to cover her eyes and hurry away, abandoning me in a pool of blood. In that critical moment, Steven Landers, the amusement park designer, rushed me to the hospital just in time. After losing the baby, I was completely devastated. Then to my surprise, he got down on one knee at the amusement park and proposed, promising me happiness for the rest of my life. After we got married, I became pregnant again. But I accidentally stumbled across his chat with a ride maintenance worker. "Mr. Landers, your wife already lost a child because of Miss Smith. You mentioned she has difficulty getting pregnant, so why are you pulling the same trick to get her on the drop tower again?" Steven casually touched his wedding ring and replied, "She's the reason Anne can never be a mother, so I absolutely won't let Myla give birth to a child that would upset her." "But that's your child too! How can you do this?" "So what? This is what she owes Anne. The drop tower is the perfect way to make it look like an accident. Tomorrow is Myla's birthday, and I'll personally take her on the ride. If she tries to run, I need all of you to help catch her!" So that was his plan all along—to use the drop tower to cause another "accident" and make me lose my baby!

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.

Three months pregnant, Gwyneth Stone spotted a little boy's suit while browsing an upscale maternity and baby store. She rubbed her belly, her face glowing with happiness. "Excuse me, could you wrap this suit up for me?" Her husband, Preston Gallagher, hadn't had time to come with her, but he'd given her a black card and told her to buy whatever she wanted. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're closing early today. A VIP customer will be arriving shortly, and she's bought out everything in the store." Gwyneth froze, clutching the suit and reluctant to let it go. "Her husband personally bought out the entire store for her. I heard she just found out she's pregnant, and he's already spending this much on her. Who knows how much he'll spoil her from now on?" The clerk looked troubled. "So, about this suit—" Before she could finish, a familiar woman's voice came from behind Gwyneth. "Let her have it. My best friend is having a girl anyway, so she might as well take the boy's clothes." Gwyneth turned around, stunned to find her best friend, Rebecca Lynch, standing there. "Becca, what are you doing here?" she asked. Rebecca clearly hadn't expected to see her either. Her face instantly went pale. "What a coincidence, Gwen. I came... to buy something for your baby." "But I'm having a son." Rebecca had been right beside her at the prenatal checkup when the private doctor told Gwyneth she was having a boy. There was no way she could have forgotten. "I—" Before Rebecca could explain, another familiar voice echoed. "Honey, the baby's not even born yet, and you've already bought out the whole store for her?" It was their friend, Selene Somerset. And the man standing beside her was Gwyneth's husband.

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 found out I was pregnant in the middle of a fight with my husband. How should I tell him without embarrassing myself too much? I decided to ask the Internet, and the netizens gave me a ton of advice based on their years of experience reading novels. One, run away with your unborn baby. Two, pretend to gag over lunch. Three, put his number into the abortion registration form… When he came to me in a frenzy, I belatedly realized, ‘Crap, I think I went too far!’

Every year, my husband Adrian granted his childhood sweetheart Keira whatever she wished for on her birthday. Last year, he gave her one half of a matching pair of rings. The year before that, he'd used ninety-nine military jets to write "Keira, I love you" across the sky. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, wondering what he'd come up with this year. Keira closed her eyes and made her wish over the birthday candles. "My birthday wish this year is to marry Adrian." The room went dead silent. I stood in the doorway, clutching the lab report that confirmed my pregnancy. Adrian and I had been married for five years, and today I'd finally found out I was pregnant. But faced with Keira's wish, Adrian didn't look the slightest bit troubled. He actually laughed. "That's your wish? Easy." He stood up, walked over, and took my arm, lowering his voice. "Vivian, it's Keira's birthday. She's the birthday girl, and I'm only giving her what she wished for." "Just come with me to sign the divorce papers, and first thing tomorrow morning, we'll remarry." I stared at the man in front of me in disbelief. I had been by his side for five full years, from when he was an ordinary soldier to now, a high-ranking officer. And now he wanted to divorce me for his childhood sweetheart's birthday wish. I gripped the pregnancy report tighter. "But I'm pregnant."

My younger sister was in a bad mood and went drinking at a bar, only to be dragged into a room by a few men. Not long after, she ended up pregnant. My husband, to protect her, actually suggested divorcing me so he could marry her instead. "Brooke only went to that bar because of me. I can't let people talk about her. Don't worry—once the baby is born and the paperwork is done, we'll remarry." I refused, but he heartlessly abandoned me, seven months pregnant, on the side of the highway. With my swollen belly, I walked for over an hour before finally making it off the road. There, I found my husband and my sister standing together, mocking me in my miserable state. "You wouldn't even help your own sister. Serves you right to suffer like this." "Noelle, don't be angry. I'm about to give birth, and Jensen only did it 'cause he was only worried about me." At that moment, I finally gave up completely. "Fine. Let's get divorced."

Willow Southfield, my wife, hated Luke Xavier, my childhood friend, the most. Luke hated her too. Whenever we met up, they would argue. Luke was half an hour late, and the first thing he said when he came through the door was, “Your makeup makes you look like you came straight out of a horror movie.” Willow threw his car keys into the ice bucket. “Fish them out and clear your mind.” My friends said that they were like oil and water, and I was always stuck between them, playing the peacemaker. Back then, we had been married for years, but we had no children. I told Willow that I was not in a hurry, but the idea of being childless hurt like a knife in my heart. Later, the doctors said that her fallopian tubes were blocked, and her chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. I was worried about her suffering from IVF, so I stopped our families from nagging at her to get pregnant. Meanwhile, Luke said to me, “Get a grip. You won’t be able to stay together for long if you’re childless. Just divorce her.” I was so mad that I nearly cut ties with him. But the next day, Willow approached me with an IVF form. With teary eyes, she said, “I’d like to try and have a child of our own.” On the day we learned that she was pregnant, I hugged her and cried. I thought that things would change for us. Then, three months later, Luke accidentally sent me a voice message while drunk. The voice was Willow’s. She sounded amused. “He touched my stomach today, and he looked so stupid.” “Did my baby kick him?” Luke asked in a whisper. When I finished listening to the voice message, I did not ask any questions. I just deleted the names that I had come up with for the baby.

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

During the five years that Sophie Lord was married, she had been continuously doing IVFs and was finally able to become pregnant with Luke Shaw’s child. That same day, she saw Luke at the hospital with his secretary, Helen Jones. He was accompanying her for a pregnancy test. Sophie was devastated and asked Luke to choose between her and the child in Helen’s womb. “Let’s not make a fuss, Sophie. I’ll explain everything to you when I get back. You need to calm down first. I’m keeping this child no matter what.” He carefully supported Helen as they left, but what he didn’t see was the blood trickling down Sophie’s legs. Later on, when Sophie disappeared from Luke’s life, the latter brought down completely.

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."

My boyfriend, Sebastian Morris, and I have been in a long-distance relationship for three years, yet he never lets me visit him. After I get pregnant, I take an eight-hour flight without telling him, hoping to surprise him. While my phone is in airplane mode, Sebastian sends me a message that reveals I've been the other woman all along. As soon as I land and reconnect, I see over a hundred unread messages from him. I tap on our chat with a smile, only to find the truth waiting for me. "I already have a girlfriend. We've been together for seven years. Our families have everything planned out. We're getting engaged soon." Sebastian says that when he first started talking to me, he and his girlfriend, Clarissa Farber, had been in the middle of a fight. Bored and lonely, he wanted someone to kill time with. "I never thought you'd take it seriously." His final message was sent three minutes ago. "If this doesn't bother you, we can keep seeing each other. You just can't let Clarissa find out about you. I don't want her getting hurt. Ultimately, the choice is yours." I rest a hand over my faint baby bump as my heart clenches. What about me? Doesn't he care if I'm the one who gets hurt?