Regret Romance Short Stories & Novels

After five miscarriages, I seek out a doctor to ask why I can't carry my babies to term. However, I overhear his conversation with my husband when I'm at the door. "The abortion medication you've prescribed is quite effective—she's already had five miscarriages. When can you do a hysterectomy? I can't let Adrianna have my child. "Oh, and give me something to keep a mother and baby safe. Monica is pregnant with my child; I have to make sure she gives birth to a healthy baby." The doctor says, "Adrianna's health has deteriorated over the years, though. It's highly likely she'll never have children." Reynold Scott scoffs indifferently. "So what? It's precisely because I don't want her to have children that I've been making her miscarry! Look, let's end this here. I need to accompany Monica on a shopping spree for the baby." I feel cold all over when I hear this. It turns out the love I've been defending is nothing but a joke.

The night before our group trip, Raymond Kane tags me in the group chat and tells me to check my flight ticket. When I open the booking, I discover my ticket was refunded three days ago—without anyone telling me. Before I can even type a reply, the messages start pouring in. Madelyn announces, "I bet Ray that you wouldn't check the booking before we left. He got you to look it up yourself. That's cheating!" Raymond shrugs it off. "Doesn't matter. You still lost. She only just found out. Just book another one. We'll just have to sit apart." Their casual banter brings back a familiar ache. It reminds me of the time they bet on how long it would take me to realize my hotel room has been downgraded from a standard double to a shared triple, leaving me to sleep on a folding cot. And before that, they bet on whether I'd notice the art museum on our itinerary had been replaced with an escape room. Whenever I tell them it hurts, they always give the same tired reply. "How were we supposed to know you cared if you never said anything?" But they never ask. I close the booking app and open another one, searching for flights to Isvind. I imagine myself surrounded by the silence of a 5°F night, with the northern lights painting the sky above me. Perhaps a solo trip is exactly what I need.

Scarlet blood trickled from my thigh as I clutched Arvin Owen's hand. "My belly... It hurts so much..." He shook off my hand indifferently. "Come on, I know it's chicken blood you are using. Debby just suffered abuse from her husband and is now in the hospital without anyone to care for her. Don't be so spoiled!" But what flowed from me was not chicken blood. It was my life slipping away.

My estranged husband suddenly barges into my parents' home, demanding to know where I am. He forces my mother to her knees and pushes my paralyzed father to the floor before beating him up. He even renders our four-year-old son half-dead. Why? Because his true love is disfigured and needs a skin graft to restore her looks. "Where is Victoria? She should be honored that she can do this for Amelia! Hand her over, or I'll kill all of you!" It's too bad I've been dead for a year.

After Dad’s affair, Mom began sprinkling flour into his underwear every day. “That way, it’s clean, and I can see the truth,” she murmured. Her face was deathly pale. Dad always stood by the bed with his head lowered, letting her do as she pleased. When he left the bedroom, he would catch my worried gaze and give me a gentle smile. “Ellie, your mom’s sick. She’s just playing a game with me.” However, that day, Dad was leaving for an out-of-town business trip. While packing, he quietly pulled out the flour-dusted pair and replaced it with a clean one. The moment Mom saw it, she snapped. She rushed over and grabbed his suitcase. “Why did you switch it?” she shrieked. “Are you going to see that divorced receptionist from your company again? Even after I marked it with flour, you still want to fool around with her. Aren’t you afraid something will go wrong down there?” Dad stumbled as she tugged at him. At last, he shoved her away. “I’m going to the hot springs resort to meet a client. How am I supposed to show up like this? Can’t you stop being so paranoid all the time?” Mom staggered back into the wardrobe, and her tears instantly spilled out. “If you weren’t so desperate that you’d go after anyone, even a woman with a child, I wouldn’t be so paranoid.” Dad’s face flushed with anger. “At least Jocelyn’s child was her ex-husband’s, unlike you, who expected me to raise the spawn of the man who assaulted you. If I’d been pickier, I never would’ve married you!” A sudden clap of thunder cracked outside. Mom went still, and she slowly lowered her outstretched hand. I curled up in the corner of the couch as tears slid down my face. I knew then that Mom had truly reached her breaking point.

My adopted sister, Jasmine, lost a million dollars in a bad investment scheme. On that fateful day, a disgruntled client showed up before us, furious that his entire life's savings had disappeared overnight and desperate to exact his revenge. When my boyfriend, Connor Sanders, showed up to rescue us, both of us reached a pleading hand to him in fear, but he swatted mine away and snarled, "Rosie, cut the crap! I know you're just faking, and you better stop, or else karma will come back to you! Jasmine has a heart condition, so I'll need to send her to the hospital right away!" Faking it? If only he knew the truth—that the unfortunate daughter born with a congenital heart disease was, in fact, me! On the day of my funeral, my boyfriend Connor wept upon my grave and blinded himself out of remorse. From that day onwards, Connor "Hawk-Eye" Sanders would live in eternal darkness.

My wife had just returned from a business trip to a high-risk dengue fever zone and was required to undergo a mandatory seven-day quarantine. I spent the entire night packing her clothes and personal belongings, rushing to deliver them to her designated quarantine hotel. The front desk staff checked the registration list three times before looking up at me. “Sir, your wife, Stella, isn’t on this list. She never registered for quarantine.” I froze. Just as I was about to dial her number, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a black Maybach pulling up in front of a hotel across the street. Stella stepped out, walked around to the passenger side, took a young man’s hand, and leaned in to kiss him the moment he got out. The young man pushed her away with a laugh, but she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. That boy was Finn, the boy Stella had raised. He was also the very person she had sent abroad three years ago, swearing she would never see him again. I stood rooted to the spot, my blood running cold. Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my hand. It was a text from Stella, with a photo of a plush hotel bed attached. [Wait for me to come home, baby.] Home? What home would we have now?

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers. Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong. When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?" The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago." Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed. That wasn't sorrow. No. That was goodbye.

After I had helped our law firm win nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a row, my husband, who had kept our marriage hidden for years, finally agreed to hold a wedding and make our relationship public. However, I waited until nightfall, and he never showed up. Instead, I saw a photo of him and his female assistant kissing in front of everyone at their wedding on Instagram. Her caption read, [I was just being mocked by my coworkers for being a bachelorette no one wants, and then my lawyer hero came to save me. From now on, I’ll be his perfect employee during the day, and he’ll be my loving husband at night.] In the photo, the wedding rings on their ring fingers were impossible to ignore. For a moment, everyone expected me to break down and make a scene. However, I simply smiled and left a comment under the post. [When are you two having a few kids? I’ll be sure to send over a big gift.] The very next second, my husband, who had been unreachable all day, finally called me. “Brit got pregnant out of wedlock, and the man who did it abandoned her,” he said coldly. “Her parents are extremely traditional. If this gets out, they’ll kill both her and the baby. As a lawyer, don’t you have any compassion for her at all? “Delete that comment right now. Apologize to her personally,” he continued. “Once she gives birth to the child and everything settles, I’ll hold another wedding with you.” I looked down at the divorce papers in my hand. Then, I let out a soft snicker. “No need,” I said. “Mr. Larson, just wait to receive our divorce case.”

My husband, a lawyer, tells his true love to deny that she wrongly administered an IV and insist that her patient passed away due to a heart attack. He also instructs her to immediately cremate the patient. He does all of this to protect her. Not only does Marie Harding not have to spend a day behind bars, but she doesn't even have to compensate the patient. Once the dust has settled, my husband celebrates with her and congratulates her now that she's free of an annoying patient. What he doesn't know is that I'm that patient. I've died with his baby in my belly.

On the day we succeed in securing a project worth a billion dollars, my girlfriend, the CEO, Vanessa Oswald, throws a celebration party. Amid the festivities, I hear Cameron Ingall, the project manager that Vanessa recently brought in, smugly tell everyone else, "There's no way he can be made the vice president. Ms. Oswald has told me she'll be sending him off to Fennoria to start a new branch there…" Snickering, I turn to Vanessa, who has arrived late, and tell her what I just heard. "Who knows where he heard that rumor from. How can I leave when we just closed the deal? I guess he doesn't know that we've been dating for ten years and are about to announce our engagement this evening!" However, with a remorseful expression, Vanessa takes my hand and says gently, "What he said is true, Shane. Now that the company is growing, it's the perfect time for us to expand into new markets. I know it'll be tough for you in Fennoria, but you're the only one in the company who can take the mantle. "You can let Cam handle the project we just won the bid for. He only recently joined the company and needs an achievement like this to bolster himself. You're already a well-known project manager in the industry anyway. What difference would just one little project make to you?" When she notices my unpleasant expression, she tries to placate me. "Relax. Once you come back, I'll make you a vice president and have a baby with you, okay?" I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. After tossing the ring I was going to use to propose to Vanessa this evening into the fountain, I call up Vanessa's business rival. "I hear you're a charitable woman, Ms. Stewart. Would you be willing to take me in, along with a one-billion-dollar project?"

Julian Ashford, the golden boy of the city's elite, had his left leg broken by his father with a golf club -- all because of me, a scholarship student. He was stripped of his billion-dollar inheritance and cast out of the family. For three years, he dragged that ruined leg around an auto repair shop, doing backbreaking labor just to scrape together enough for my college tuition. Everyone said I was the luckiest girl alive -- that I'd brought the untouchable heir of a financial empire to his knees, made him willing to live on scraps in the worst part of town. Today was our three-year anniversary. I was carrying the freshly signed Holloway Group inheritance confirmation documents, ready to finally tell him my real identity and pull him out of this misery. I walked down the corridor of The Grand Pavilion, holding a box of vanilla shortbread -- his favorite. Through the half-open door of a private suite, Julian Ashford stood tall on two perfectly healthy legs, dressed in an immaculate tailored suit, sliding a rare pink diamond ring onto the finger of Victoria Sterling -- the city's most celebrated socialite. "Victoria, I used that scholarship girl as a shield to survive three years of my old man's relentless arranged marriage schemes. My body's completely untouched. You've always been the one I was going to marry." I looked down at my own hands, cracked and raw from the cold, and tore the inheritance documents to shreds.

I accidentally ruined the cake at the fake daughter's birthday party. As punishment, my parents and brother locked me in the basement. "You’ve let your jealousy ruin a perfectly good celebration. Stay here and think about what you’ve done!" they shouted. They left me in the basement and went off to the Maldives to throw another birthday party for the fake daughter. When a gas leak occurred at home, I was still locked in the basement. As soon as they remotely turned the lights on, the whole house exploded, taking my life with it. After my death, my spirit drifted over to where my family was celebrating. I saw them gathered around the fake daughter on a beach. When a luxury three-tiered cake was brought out, they watched her make a wish with a smile. The fake daughter put on a show of concern about me. "Darling, you’re too kind-hearted. People like her deserve to be locked up and taught a lesson. Let’s see if she dares to take anything from you again," they said. Hearing that, I completely gave up on my family. When they returned home and saw the destroyed house, however, my parents and brother went mad.

I had argued with Tiffany Jensen at the construction site over a 15-dollar BBQ plate, and the fight had spiraled out of control. Clutching my throbbing head, I watched as she stuffed the freshly cashed paycheck into her pocket. "Are you ever going to let this go? You just want me to pay for your meal, don't you? You're always complaining about headaches and dizziness. I think you're just lazy!" I wanted to tell her about the flashes of luxury that kept appearing in my mind, images I could not explain. However, the words stuck in my throat as another wave of vertigo hit me. By the time I steadied myself and caught up to her, she was already climbing into a black Rolls-Royce Cullinan. Their mocking voices drifted out through the car window. Someone said, "I thought your little 'real-life experience' would be fun, but this is it? You even argued over a meal." Another person laughed along. "Tiffany, Mr. Jensen's about to have a heart attack over this. Now that he's finally agreed to let you date Ethan Parker, just dump this loser already. Are you planning to support him for the rest of his life?" Tiffany replied without hesitation, "He's a nobody who doesn't even know who he is, and he thinks he deserves someone like me?" It turned out that after I lost my memory, I had become nothing more than a pawn in a wealthy heiress' rebellion game. I turned to leave, my heart sinking. Just then, an unknown number flashed across my phone screen. I answered without thinking. "Mr. Shaw, this is Alfred Wright, your family's butler. You've been missing for five years! Your grandfather is dying, and he wants to see you one last time." I glanced back at the car disappearing into the distance and said, "Alfred, come pick me up."

I've been married for eight years, but my husband won't let our daughter call him "Dad" because his childhood sweetheart's son struggles with severe depression. After he missed our daughter's parent-teacher meeting again because he was with Susan Lawson and her son, I decided to leave. I prepare the divorce papers and decide to leave with my daughter. I go to her school and find her homeroom teacher, Laura Anderson. "Ms. Anderson, I'd like to apply for a school transfer." She looks surprised. "Why the sudden decision to transfer?" I reply calmly, "Her dad has been working out of town, but he's finally settled down and wants us to move there." Laura sighs. "Well, that's not bad. I always thought you were a single mom." I smile. I'm not, for now. But I'll be one very soon.

Aria Hawthorne, the disciple I carefully nurture, ascends to the position of Demon Empress. However, she sets a trap and kills me. After my death, she even has my skin and bones stripped away. She ensures that my name is disgraced throughout the Three Realms for thousands of years. This is all because I executed the person she had wanted to become her mentor. From that moment on, her hatred for me runs deep. When I open my eyes again, I am reborn on the day of the selection ceremony. This time, I give Aria exactly what she wants. I introduce her to my seemingly refined but actually brutal and incompetent junior, Kalix Frostwind.

When my wife's lover changed the locks on our house for the ninth time and locked us out again, there was finally a hint of irritation on her face. I, on the other hand, calmly reassured her. "He's young. He doesn't know any better. Don't get worked up over it." Yvonne Fisher, who was about to break the lock open, froze mid-swing and turned to stare at me. "Aren't you angry?" I was at a loss for words. Throughout our five years of marriage, things like this had happened so often that if I'd kept getting angry, I would've died from it by now. Besides, my own lover was just as much of a handful. All I felt for Yvonne was sympathy.

I go deaf in an attempt to save James Duncan. He falls to his knees before my parents and begs them to let me marry him. He says he'll care for me for life. He finally passes his five-year test, but he sleeps with his lover before our wedding. He does it before my very eyes. He clamps a hand over her mouth and says, "Be quiet. Don't wake Layla up." His lover giggles and nibbles on his palm. "What's there to be afraid of? She's deaf; she can't hear us." James doesn't know that I've already regained my hearing. He and his lover are also unaware that their behavior is being livestreamed.

For three years of marriage, Jeanette Schafer had devoted herself completely to caring for Skyler Weisberg, who was confined to a wheelchair. Yet, Skyler harbored nothing but contempt for her. He hated her touch so much that the last time she accidentally brushed against his legs, he locked her out of their home for 99 days. The day finally came when Skyler's legs had healed enough for him to stand again. Yet, the first thing he did was to drive straight to the airport to pick up his first love. Years of selfless devotion and tender care meant nothing compared to his 'the one that got away'. Swallowing the heartbreak, Jeanette made a call. She whispered, "The contract is fulfilled. I'm filing for divorce." Only after she walked away did Skyler realize what he had lost. But by then, it was already too late.

My sister, Vivian Richmond, is celebrating her birthday with the rest of the family while I lie trapped in an abandoned factory, bleeding heavily. She's hired four thugs to torture me, and they've left me fighting for my life. I crawl toward my phone with what little strength I have left. When I finally reach it, I call my husband, Ethan Monroe. "Ethan, I'm seriously injured. Come save me now… I'm at the factory nearby. It won't take much of your time…" He scoffs at my weak, desperate voice. "Sienna, whining won't get you anywhere. Are you playing the victim now?" he says. "You'll stop at nothing to ruin Vivian's birthday party, huh? Hurry back with a gift and apologize to her, or I won't go easy on you this time." Before I can speak, I hear Vivian calling his name over the line. Ethan has no idea that the moment the call ends, I no longer need his forgiveness. He doesn't know that the foul, rotting corpse that makes even an experienced forensic pathologist like him recoil in disgust belongs to the wife he's hated for years.