Scumbag Romance Short Stories & Countdown Novels

I can see the shelf life of every couple's marriage. For ordinary couples who've made it to seven years, the number usually hovers around sixty percent. But my husband, Ethan Bennett, and I had been married for years, and the number above our heads had always stayed at one hundred percent. That marriage was the one thing I was sure of. But the cracks came out of nowhere. That day, he came home from the lab, and our shelf life dropped straight to ninety-seven percent. Panic instantly gripped my heart. I cleaned the house, replaced everything at home he didn't like again and again, and went over every little detail that might have displeased him. Ethan only smiled and said I was overthinking things. I forced myself not to dwell on it, telling myself it was just a small blip from the seven-year itch. Until that movie let out. On a whim, I pulled him into a cat cafe. His graduate student—my stepsister, Piper Turner—was working there part-time. She held a cat in her arms and cheerfully invited us to pet it. The instant he reached out his hand, I clearly saw the number above his head plummet—ninety percent. The air froze. I caught the faint flush creeping up his ears, and I couldn't breathe. So what had been dragging down our perfect marriage was never the housework or the little things. It was her.

A year ago, when Bailey Knight's side girl, Lucy Day, showed up in front of me, causing a scene, he had his people beat her until she lost the baby and tossed her out. Then he groveled before me for three straight hours, begging me to forgive him. Looking at the man I'd loved for ten years, looking so pitiful and broken, I eventually caved. Later, I caught Lucy sneaking around Bailey's villa in the suburbs, so I had her thrown out again. Three days before our wedding, Bailey grabbed me by the neck and shoved me up against the railing on the second-floor balcony, yelling so hard that his voice broke. "We already took Lucy's baby once! She can't handle it happening again. She's fragile. You're a woman—how can you not understand that? "I've given you the title of Mrs. Knight. I'd give you my life. Isn't that enough? Why can't you just accept her?" The next second, his secretary ran up to say they'd found Lucy. He shoved me down the stairs. The pain when my arm snapped made me feel like my whole body was being torn apart. But he didn't even look back. Staring at the cold, heartless man in front of me, I felt something inside me go completely dead. I picked up my phone and called Arnold Greenwood. "I don't wanna marry him anymore. Come get me."

"Mom, Dad. I've changed my mind. I'm willing to go back to Bimern and marry Mr. Coleman, even if he's in a coma." I keep it a secret from Frederick Kirby, my boyfriend of seven years. I'm going ahead and arranging a wedding with someone else. Lennon Downey, Frederick and I grew up together. I had fallen in love with Frederick when I was a teenager, while Lennon was always like an older brother to me. We are close, and we've always been that way. That is, until the three of us went on a trip and got caught in a flash flood. Florence Cooper, the fake heiress, stole the credit for saving their lives and even lied that I left them behind to save myself. Since then, they've taken her side in everything. They've even hurt me for her. I cried, fought, and tried to explain over and over again. I thought that they would see her for who she really is one day. However, they never did. All I got in return was betrayal, again and again. I'm done. I just want to leave. I want to disappear from their lives and never, ever see them again.

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."

Chester Ford brings home a female university student for the 10th time during our 10th wedding anniversary banquet. He walks into the banquet hall with the young lady in his arms. "Don't you see that your outfit is clashing with hers, Yuna Sutherland? Take off your dress. Right here and now." He slowly loosens his tie while I take a step back in panic. He then proceeds to tug my pearl necklace from my neck. "What are you waiting for? Stop acting like you're innocent. Your father tossed your younger sister to Ford Group to be a kept woman back then. He also practically delivered you straight onto my bed, all for 30 million dollars. I'll never forget how he looked when he was begging on his knees." Everyone eagerly watches the drama unfold with champagne glasses in hand. I stare at the wedding ring on his ring finger, which is close to becoming tarnished. For the 10th time, I request a divorce. Chester sneers. "How original of you, Yuna. Yet, you eventually kneel and plead for forgiveness every time. If you leave the Ford family, who's going to pay to keep your sister alive in the ICU?"

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

I begged Dylan Leveson three hundred and four times to take my dying dad on one last trip out to sea. Guess what? He bailed. I stood on the shore, watching the warmth fade from my dad's body, breath by breath—alone—while Dylan played Romeo in the highlands. Millie Stone—his forever flame—posted a cozy little selfie: [Far from the world, as long as I have you.] I accidentally hit like. Dylan popped up instantly. [How many times have I told you to leave Millie alone? Can't control yourself? We're getting a divorce!] Oh, the classic divorce threat. I'd lost count. [Cool. Divorce it is.]

Ahead of Thanksgiving weekend, my boyfriend of five years and I were getting ready to travel back to his hometown to meet his parents. While packing my bags, I stuffed every inch of room with carefully chosen gifts, pushing my luggage ten pounds past the weight limit. Remembering that Samuel Hogan's suitcase was still empty, I opened it up to transfer a few things over, only to find it already crammed with snacks, skirts, makeup, and tampons. I looked up at Samuel, who was playing online video games with his best friend, Serena Miller, wanting an explanation. I called out to him three times before he finally looked over at me. "Serena was going to be home alone and bored over Thanksgiving, so I invited her to come along with us," he said casually. "She had way too much stuff, so she stored it in my bag. If your luggage is overweight, just pay for the extra checked bag." Silently, I set down the gifts that had nowhere left to go and looked at the clueless man. He didn't know that those extra ten pounds were the final straw breaking us apart after all these years.

Ten years into our secret relationship, Alex pulled out a ring at a yacht party. He leaned against the deck railing, his tone lazy. "Actually, I'm planning to propose tonight. " The crowd erupted instantly. Someone whistled, someone pounded on a table telling him to get down on one knee, and guessed who the mystery woman he'd kept hidden for ten years might be. I stood at the back of the crowd, so nervous my breathing came in ragged bursts. For ten years, Alex had never publicly acknowledged our relationship. During the hardest days of his startup, he said investors didn't like founders weighed down by romantic attachments. Then, once he became New York's most sought-after biotech rising star, the excuse became that the board and the media loved scrutinizing his personal life. Time after time, I believed he just wasn't ready yet. For him, I gave up a research position at Harvard, lost our child, and didn't even make it to my mother's bedside before she died. And now, he had finally pulled out a ring. Without even thinking, I reached for the pair of dark blue cufflinks in my pocket. I had spent three months of my savings to craft them as a tenth-anniversary gift. But he didn't stop in front of me. He brushed past me, walked up to Lillian, who had just returned to New York after ending her second marriage in Europe, and dropped to one knee. The deck fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted into even louder cheers. Alex slid the ring onto Lillian's finger, and smiled carelessly. "See? Told you she wouldn't dare make a scene even after seeing the ring. Ten years, and when has she ever really stood up to me?" Lillian looked past his shoulder at me, undisguised triumph gleaming in her eyes. So the proposal hadn't been spontaneous. They had bet on whether I would make a scene. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and turned to leave. So ten years really could be worth this little.

My husband, William Yore, falls off his horse on our wedding night and damages his eyesight. For the next three years, I become his eyes. I read official documents for him, identify medicinal herbs, and test the roads on snowy nights. One day, bandits attack Cohill Church. When one of them swings a blade at us, I reflexively shield William with my own body. However, William circles me and lunges at the bandit who's grabbing Nancy Jenning's sleeve. "Close your eyes, Nancy!" He uses his own sword to deflect the bandit's knife before pulling Nancy into his arms, leaving me to collapse into the snow. "You can see, Will?" Nancy asks, her voice trembling. "Then why did you make Julia support you when you're walking, read your documents, and test your medicines on herself for the past three years? Why did you hide this from her?" William looks down and wipes the snow from her face before calmly saying, "She's too bossy. She bombards me with questions with every step that I take, asking if I can see, if I'm hurting, or if I'm tired. I just want some peace and quiet. I was going to tell her after she stopped bothering me." A few snowflakes land on my eyelashes. The cold stings my eyes. I suddenly think about how I hold William's hand every time it snows. I'm scared of him falling down and getting cold. I'm scared that he can't see the snowy paths. But it turns out that William can see everything. He's just unwilling to look at me.

In her third year of dating Jackson Hunter, the cool and proud Lumina Walker took out a secret loan of one million dollars to repay his debt. She even resorted to performing stripteases in a bar. Everything changed when she overheard a shocking conversation between him and his friends. "You're ruthless even to yourself! Just to get back at Lumina, you pretended to be a bartender for three years, tricked her into taking out a loan for you, and used her nude video as collateral. You even got her to strip at your bar! " "If she ever found out that you're the loan shark and own the bar she stripped at… She'd probably drop dead from anger right there and then!" another chimed in. Celia Price was Lumina's living nightmare, her tormentor for nine years since their middle school days—relentless bullying, harassment, and abuse. The painful twist? Celia was Jackson's secret love all along—for a decade, to be exact. Yet Lumina didn't cry, didn't fight back. So when her Uncle Howard called and ordered her to marry the mute oldest son of the powerful Morgan family from Crown City, she agreed without hesitation.

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.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."

The day after my C-section, I had a divorce attorney come to the hospital. The person handling my case was my husband Daniel's younger sister, Emily Markham. She stared at me for a long time, disbelief written all over her face. "What are you doing? You just had my brother's baby yesterday!" My voice stayed flat. "Your brother didn't even wait for me to finish giving birth before he went out on a boat with Rebecca Lennox. "Why would I keep a husband like that?" Emily was quiet for a few seconds, but she still defended him. "Rebecca just got divorced, and her depression's really bad. My brother's a doctor. He couldn't stop worrying about her. "He only went to check on her because he felt responsible. Do you really have to take it as far as divorce? "The baby was just born. How can he not have a father?" My expression cold, I cut her off. "He does have a father. His father just decided he didn't want him first." Emily went pale. She reached for my hand, testing the waters. "I know my brother's always been way too invested in Rebecca, but that's only because they grew up together. "We all know he loves you. Please don't divorce him, okay?" I met her hopeful gaze, and the corner of my mouth twitched. I pulled my arm free and called the law firm. "Your attorney isn't very professional. I'd like a different one."

On my birthday, I was busy making preparations. I decorated my house and made dinner. Then, I waited until all the dishes went cold. That was when I received a text message from Zac Hilton: I’m on a business trip. Don’t wait for me. You should go to bed first. Then, I saw his girl best friend, Faye Smith, posted a social media post. In the photo, Zac had his sleeves rolled up. He wore an apron as he was making dinner in the kitchen. She added the caption: I hope this moment will last forever. I suddenly became vapid. I liked her post and reheated my dinner before eating. Throughout dinner, my phone kept ringing, but I ignored it. I only picked up my phone after I finished the meal. There were a dozen missed calls from Zac. Finally, he sent a voice message to me. [Piper, I’ll explain to you when I return. Don’t overthink it. There are so many future birthdays that we can spend together.] I did not reply to him. I had only one thought to myself. “Will there be a future for us?”

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

Everyone believed Ethan Cross loved Isabella Winters to his core, but nobody knew he'd already found an Isabella look-alike to keep him company through the lonely nights. Even when Isabella recovered, he continued his affair. Little did he know that Isabella's recovery was temporary—within two months, she would lose every memory she'd ever made. After that, she would forget Ethan completely, and her love for him would be erased forever.

The night before our courthouse wedding, I was working late behind the scenes on a lawyer’s legal advice livestream. My best friend, Monique Baum, called in anonymously. “My boyfriend is marrying his fiancee tomorrow, but I’m the one he loves.” “Then, why is he going through with it?” the lawyer asked. “Because she’d fall apart if he backed out. He spent five years pretending to be broke, and she stayed by his side through it all. She lost their baby and even sold her parents’ only home for him.” Clutching our marriage paperwork, I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Sean Loker and I were getting married the next day. Then, Monique chuckled and said, “Sean said he’d send her a fake appointment confirmation to string her along, then gradually find a way to back out.” I pulled out my phone and entered the confirmation number on the county clerk’s website. There was no record of our appointment.

After Heath Renwick abandons me and our daughter for Celeste Worthing's dog for the seventh time, we finally learn our lesson. He parades around with Celeste and the dog, trending online, landing magazine features, and I don't say a word. He even tears up our daughter Maisie's favorite sketchbook to line the dog's bed, and she doesn't cry or make a fuss. Then the dog chases Maisie down a flight of stairs. She hits her head and ends up in the ER with a concussion, and only then does Heath bother to show up. "Raven! Why didn't you tell me? I'm Maisie's father too!" I spend the whole night sitting outside the emergency room. I look at him, my voice perfectly calm. "It's nothing serious, just a mild concussion. She'll be out in a couple of days. We know you're busy, so Maisie will understand." Heath freezes. "A concussion is serious, and you're telling me it's nothing? What kind of a mother are you?" He wants to blow up, but the whispers around him stop him short. "Mr. Renwick really is better suited for Ms. Worthing. If she hadn't gone abroad back then, a small-town woman like Raven would never have had a chance." "Exactly. She can't even keep her own child safe." Heath frowns. "There's nothing going on with Celeste. She's like a sister to me!" I nod. "I believe you. "Maisie fell down the stairs because Prince chased her. I know that dog means everything to Celeste, so I didn't bring it up. I didn't want to put you in a difficult position." A flicker of shame crosses Heath's face. "I'll find the best doctor for Maisie. Prince is everything to Celeste, you know that. She has mental health issues." "Mr. Renwick, I understand. Maisie doesn't need to call you Dad anymore." He panics. "If you're upset, just say so! Stop putting on this act and dragging the kid into it!" I nod. "Okay. I got it." I'm not planning to make a scene. I already have plane tickets to Eraly. In five days, we'll have nothing to do with each other anymore.

On his birthday, my boyfriend, Donald Cole, made three wishes over the cake I had baked with my own hands. First, he wished Cecily Reynauld would be happy every day. Second, he wished Cecily's project would win its award. Third, he wished the cat that Cecily and he were raising together would grow up healthy. Cecily Reynauld… My best friend. I stood there, frozen. But everyone else in the room laughed and cheered. Blushing, Cecily gave Donald a playful shove. "Why didn't you make a wish for Summer? "She is your girlfriend after all." Donald smiled with absolute confidence. "Do I even have to guess what she wants? "She obviously wants to marry me." The next second, he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring. If this had happened before, I probably would have cried and said yes. But this time, my eyes locked onto the ring as he slid it onto my ring finger. It slid right back down. It was one size too big. Exactly Cecily's size. A faint smile tugged at my lips. I'd loved Donald Cole for seven years. While letting him go only took a single moment.