Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Scumbag Countdown Novels

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.

“Miss Green, the results show that you have late-stage pancreatic cancer. The situation isn’t good for you. If you give up on treatment, you might have less than a month left. Are you sure you don’t want to receive treatment? Will your husband agree to it?” “I’m sure that… he will.” After I hung up, I surveyed the empty house and felt sadness fill every fiber of my heart. I had thought that the pain I felt was due to my dear old friend, gastritis, but it was cancer. I sighed and looked at the picture on the table. The eighteen-year-old Zach Stone stared at me in the photo. It had been years since, but I still remembered how the snow had fallen on my hair. At that time, Zach had smiled and asked whether this counted as us growing old together.

My husband, Jacob Morris, wrongly believed that I had pushed the woman he loved down the stairs. So, he locked me in the basement to make me reflect on my actions. He hired people to punish me, trying to break my spirit. I suffered inhumane torture. My tendons were cut, and my face was disfigured. Four years later, he finally remembered me and let me out. But by then, I was too broken to love him anymore.

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."

My childhood friend called, saying he was trapped in a fire. He wanted to hear my voice one last time, and I rushed to the scene as fast as I could. But in that small, blazing spot, there was only a cat. Stumbling, I got the cat out, but my arms got burned. A crowd gathered, pointing at me and laughing hysterically. "She actually went for it?" "What a simp, risking her life like that!" Safe and sound, Colin Porter stepped out of the crowd with a grin. He picked up the cat from my arms and handed it to his crush. "See? I told you the cat would be fine. When have I ever lied to you?" Turning back to me, he said, "The cat got spooked and ran into the fire. We didn't know what to do, so we called you. Thank you for your help." The people around us snickered, like they were watching a trained dog. Later, on my wedding day, my husband carried me to the car. Colin, dragging his burned, bloody legs, crawled on the ground. He begged, "I'm hurt, Selena! Come help me!"

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?"

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."

My parents adopted a kid, and I treated him like treasure. Then he started looking uncannily like my husband, Brian. And I caught him whispering "Mom" to my sister, Ruby. Yeah. Plot twist: Brian had been cheating on me the whole time. With Ruby. They played house behind my back, smiling for family pics—with my parents' blessing. When the truth blew up, Ruby had the audacity to beg me to step aside. My parents told me to get over it. And that kid I loved like my own? Told me I deserved to die. But here's the kicker—Brian wouldn't even sign the divorce. Dude broke down, said he still loved me, swore the kid was a mistake. So I smiled and said, "Cool. You've got seven days. Prove it, and I'll forgive you." He went full simp mode. Emptied his bank account, treated me like I was gold. Even kicked Ruby down and yelled at her to apologize. Everyone thought I'd cave. Then the cops called, asked him to ID a body—and Brian totally lost it. He never knew I'd been dead this whole time. The Reaper gave me one last week to say goodbye.

I had been married to James Tennant for seven years. In that time, he had already kept twenty-nine mistresses, like pretty little canaries in gilded cages. Now, I saw the thirtieth one in our bedroom, young and draped in nothing but a bath towel, lounging across our bed. I turned to him and asked coldly, “Can’t get enough out there, huh? Did you really have to bring her home?” The girl deliberately tugged her towel lower, her pale skin showing as she sneered, “Mr. Tennant says you’re like a dead corpse in bed! He wanted me to teach you how to please a man.” That night, I was forced to watch their little performance right in front of me. The next morning, James was furious at my indifference, resenting me for not reacting. However, he seemed to forget that our marriage was nothing but a contract, and in just one week, that contract would expire.

Married three years. Stood up three years. Today was the last time I bothered showing up. Surprise—he bailed again. Still clinging to hope like a total idiot, I called. One last shot. "A-Aurora, I'm busy. Just wait," he muttered. And then her voice cut in. All breathy and smug: "That old woman can't satisfy you, huh? Paolo, be gentle." Click. Right on cue, Marco Medici—loyal, patient, saint-like Marco—sent his 99th proposal. This time, I didn't leave him hanging. [Want to come over for bollito misto?]

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.]

In their four years of marriage, Ethan Sterling had always refused to visit any romantic couple destinations with his wife, Pearl Whitmore. He said she was shallow and just chasing trends. However, when his first love came back from overseas, he could not wait to take her up the legendary mountain where it was said couples who climbed it successfully would grow old together. Pearl divorced him and moved abroad. However, Ethan followed her to the new country, sobbing as he searched for her in the ruins...

There's a rule in Pine Ridge—women are only allowed to leave the mountain seven times in their lives. If they aren't able to marry a foreigner who's not from Pine Ridge, they can only marry a local mountaineer and become a guardian of the mountain. Because of that, I've borrowed some cosmetics from my grandma seven times in a row. Every time, I'm often wearing my prettiest dress and waiting for the man, who has promised to whisk me away from Pine Ridge, to marry me. But despite having crossed the mountain and reached the same town seven times in a row, Joseph Kingsley is never there. In the village, the village chief, Arthur Langley, has a smoke pipe dangling from his lips. "This is your seventh time leaving Pine Ridge just to get your marriage registered. That director boyfriend of yours has gone over to the next village just to shoot more footage of the lass who has a really pretty smile. "Caroline, your boyfriend is already behaving like this. Why are you still waiting for him?" I clumsily pull out the phone Joseph has given me before keying in his number. The dial tone goes off three times before the call goes through. Only then does Joseph explain the truth to me. "When Gemma took us on a foraging trip, she got trapped by one of the bear traps in the mountain! You do realize that if a woman from Pine Ridge were to get crippled, no villager would want to marry her at all because she'd be a burden to them! "If I were to leave Gemma alone, her life would be ruined! This is the last time, Caroline! Once I ensure that Gemma's leg gets healed, I'll come marry you right away!" Joseph has been in Pine Ridge for four years so far. Throughout these years, I've hiked the mountain and braved the elements for him seven times in a row. But Gemma Watson keeps getting into trouble. Whenever that happens, Joseph will abandon me without hesitation. As I gaze at the phone, which shows that the call has gotten disconnected, I wipe away my tears quietly. There won't be a last time anymore. In three days, I will be marrying someone else.

My husband can't find his way anywhere. He can't read a map, and turn-by-turn directions only confuse him more. He got lost on our wedding day and turned up so late the ceremony had to be pushed back three days. He got lost on our anniversary while a table of food I'd cooked went cold. Eight months pregnant, I fell in the bathroom and called him for help. He sounded frantic on the phone, and then he got lost on the road home, the one he'd driven for five years. By the time he reached the hospital, our son had already been taken to the funeral home and cremated. I couldn't climb out of it, and everyone around me took his side. "That thick head of his can't hold a road. He wasn't late on purpose. Don't start a fight over it. You'll have another baby." I nodded, numb. Then, on the way to my son's funeral, I found out my husband had sent the driver away and taken a long detour to his assistant's house without a single wrong turn. "Grace, the service won't start for a while. I'll run Paige to the airport first. She's got to get back home." Before I could say no, we were already at her door. His assistant slid into the front passenger seat like it belonged to her, and every word out of her mouth landed somewhere tender. "See how well I've trained you? You forget the way to my place and I'll pull your pants down and deal with you." It was only when she noticed me in the back seat that she stuck out her tongue, embarrassed. "Sorry, Ms. Ellison. I was joking." I swallowed it and said nothing. And after Owen dropped her off, he lost the route to the cemetery again, and my son's service started half an hour late. Holding that small urn against me, I stopped hoping. So there was someone he could make an exception for. It just wasn't me, and it wasn't our son.

A polar research expedition ran straight into a catastrophic blizzard, and Chris Hanks and I ended up trapped together in an ice cave. When our supplies were nearly gone, Chris pressed the last bar of chocolate and the emergency blanket into my hands. His own lips had already gone purple with cold, but he still managed a smile as he told me not to worry — the rescue team would be here any minute. Todd Carey, who'd made the trip with us, rubbed his hands together and sighed, "Professor Hanks really does love you to death, Mrs. Hanks." Even I believed it. Ten years together, and I'd thought what we had was unbreakable. Then, just as I leaned in to warm myself against his chest, a wall of blood-red, half-transparent text came screaming across my vision. [Run! That man is a hypocrite through and through!] [He's handing you supplies now so you'll stay put as bait when the avalanche hits!] [The rescue chopper only has two seats left, and he's already decided he's taking his first love out with him!] [Last time, he left you locked in that cave. You froze solid, and he flew home to collect the award with his little protégée on his arm!]

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.

The year Daniel went broke, I swallowed every last drop of pride.  I took a job as a dancer at a shady nightclub just to pay off his debts. We lived in a forty-dollar-a-night basement room, surviving on stale energy bars and tap water.  I became the laughingstock of everyone we used to know. Eight years later, he pulled off the ultimate comeback and clawed his way back to the top. His very first move?  Bringing his high school sweetheart, Mia, straight into our home. At his victory party, in front of a room packed with people, he laid down three rules for me. "First, keep your distance in public. Mia’s a total germaphobe. "Second, Mia is sensitive. From now on, tell people you’re my assistant. "Third, never bring up your nightclub days again. It disgusts me." Mia clutched her tea glass and added timidly, "Maddy, I’ll be in your care." The room erupted in laughter.  The looks thrown my way were a mix of pity and mockery. I just smiled and nodded. "Of course." The next day, I moved my things into the maid’s quarters and handed over the master bedroom.  When she complained that the doorknobs I had touched were filthy, I hired a deep-cleaning crew to sanitize the entire house. When Daniel came home that night, his eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed my wrist, shaking with rage. "Maddy, what the hell is this drama? Do you still think you're some spoiled rich girl?" I didn't have the energy to fight back, let alone answer. Eight years of pouring cheap liquor down my throat had burned through my body. Hidden in my nightstand drawer, buried beneath a stack of old mail, was a late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis. In three days, I would be gone from his world forever.

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.

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.