Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Scumbag Novels

Max Siegel loved me deeply and promised me the grandest wedding anyone had ever seen. However, just three days before the big day, everything changed. The custom-made wedding dress he'd ordered for me was given to his stepsister, Fawn Lewis, and instead, he handed me a pill—one that could erase memories. “Kate,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but Fawn has just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She doesn’t have long. Her last wish is to marry me. I can’t have her leave this world with regrets. “This pill will make you forget everything about us for a few days. But don’t worry. After the wedding is over, I’ll give you the antidote, and you’ll remember everything again. Then, I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Without hesitation, I took the pill and swallowed it. However, what he didn’t know was that I developed that drug myself, and there was no antidote. Three days from now, I would forget the man I loved most—him. And once that happens, there’s no turning back and no chance to start over.

“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.

I was Brandon Sandler’s most cherished canary—pampered, sheltered, and utterly his for five years. Then came the news of his engagement to another woman. Only then did I realize his affection had been a carefully crafted revenge. He trapped me by his side, flaunting his love for another while subjecting me to relentless humiliation. Eventually, I stopped caring. But the ruthless business tycoon, who once held himself above all, clutched me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come home. He said he regretted everything. My hand instinctively cradled my stomach as I glanced at the man behind him. “Darling,” I murmured, “this man is scaring our baby.”

Ian Ludwig and I have grown more in sync in the eight years we have been married. I believe him when he lies to me that he's on a business trip, when in reality he's buying a villa for Francesca Yarrington, his childhood friend. He also believes me when I hand him a divorce agreement, saying that it is a property transfer agreement. There's still one month left in the cooling-off period before our divorce is finalized. That gives me just enough time to clear out everything from our eight years of marriage.

"Gemma, we agreed on ten years. That time is up now. I'd like to leave with Kira." "You know he never liked her," she added quietly. In the quiet of the coffee house, Josie Carr spoke with a bitter expression. She had lived with Graham Holloway for ten years—ten long years, and still, she hadn't managed to thaw his heart. It wasn't love that brought them a child—it was a night of drunken confusion. He'd pushed her onto the bed, dazed and careless, and Kira came from that. Afterward, he gave her a villa and agreed to let her keep the baby. His only condition was simple: the child must never call him father. Publicly, Graham remained a single man. "I will never marry you. Don't hold out hope. "I'll pay child support, but don't expect me to acknowledge her. That child doesn't exist to me."

Everyone in Asterhaven knew—Maxwell Porter hated Zoey Bradford. Hated how she clung so desperately to their marriage. Hated how she refused to set him free. He asked for a divorce. Ninety-nine times. But the hundredth time, when he thought she'd turn him down like always, her voice cut through the air, cold as ice that had been frozen for a thousand years. "Fine. Let's get divorced."

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.

Five years ago, Suri ruptured her uterus pushing Bruce out of the path of a car. The injury left her unable to have kids. But Bruce didn't care—he still pushed for the wedding. After they got married, he poured nearly everything into her. Or so she thought. Then came the scandal. One of his business rivals leaked it, and just like that, the truth exploded online—Bruce had another woman. She was already over three months pregnant. That night, he dropped to his knees. "Suri, please. I'll fix it. I won't let her keep the baby..." And Suri? She forgave him. But on their fifth anniversary, she rushed to the hotel Bruce had reserved—only to find something else entirely. In the next room, Bruce sat beaming, surrounded by friends and family, celebrating that mistress's birthday. The smile on his face—pure joy. A smile she'd never once seen from him. That was the moment she knew. It was over. Time to go.

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."

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

Sawyer Patterson intended to leave me again for his childhood sweetheart, Mathilde Payne. We'd been together for ten years, and this was our seventh engagement party. For the previous six times, Mathilde always had some kind of emergency. This time, I wasn't going to let him go. "We're about to exchange rings. It won't take long. She's just got a slight fever. It's not a big deal if you go later, right?" Sawyer lost it. "Can you stop making a scene? Mathilde has always been frail. We've been together for ten years. We can do without a ceremony." He walked out, leaving me behind with a broken heart. This time, I was truly done with him.

The day Jack Prescott's family went "bankrupt," he dumped me on the spot. "My mom's house is getting auctioned. I don't want you dragged into this." I actually bought it. Went against my family and stuck by him, slinging street food just to scrape by. "Don't stress. I'll help you buy it back." Three years of nonstop work—burn scars up and down my arms—and I finally scraped together a small fortune. The day we were supposed to sign the papers, I caught him on the phone. "Jack, you coming back?" some guy asked. Jack flicked his cigarette, all smug. "What's the rush? I'm still milking this sad little simp. She's totally whipped. It just keeps getting funnier." All that time, all that love? Just a joke to him.

On the way to get our marriage certificate for the twentieth time, Rolf Trivett regretted it once again. In eight years, this was our twentieth attempt to get the certificate. But every time we reached City Hall, he would always say he needed time to care for his seriously ill childhood friend and couldn't promise to marry me. This time, I couldn't take it anymore and asked him, "If she’s never going to get better, does that mean you’ll never marry me? What am I to you?" Rolf immediately lost his temper and yelled at me, "I've already promised to take care of her for life. Can you stop being so selfish? "Besides, we've been together for eight years. What difference does it make if we don't get this certificate?"

When the kidnapper fired the gun, I shielded Scott with my body. The bullet pierced my heart, and I was sent overseas to have my heart exchanged with an artificial one—one that ran on a battery. Because of this heart, Scott married me, and my friends congratulated me for finally having my wish granted, for finally marrying my childhood sweetheart. Later, when I laid there on the operating table with my chest cut open, he was kissing another woman under the moonlight. I didn't react to this in the slightest, recovering my heart in silence. Scott resented my numbness, grabbing my shoulders as he demanded, "Wendy, aren't you angry about this?" He didn't know the reason, and to be honest, it was quite simple. Why be angry when my heart was on the verge of giving out? Every passionate day he spent chasing after love… Was another tick in the countdown to the end of my life.

My husband, Zane Wade, was drugged at a cocktail party and ended up sleeping with a female college student who looked almost exactly like me. I gave him three chances. The first time, Zane sent the young woman abroad overnight. Then, he knelt outside our home for three days and three nights. The second time, I ran into him and the college student at the hospital. He was accompanying her for a prenatal check-up. At the time, Zane hugged me tightly and refused to let me go. His voice trembled as he said, "I'm sorry, Raina. She's pregnant, and my mother threatened to commit suicide. I have no choice but to keep the child. "I swear, once she gives birth, I'll send her away immediately. The child will go to the old family estate. Please, don't leave me…" But just three days later, because of that same woman, Zane fought me at an auction over my mother's heirlooms. When he saw me raising the bid higher and higher, he immediately went nuclear. This was the third and final chance I gave him. I rushed over to confront him, but Zane wasn't worried. He just frowned slightly and calmly said, "Raina, you know very well that Moira is about to give birth. Why do you insist on fighting a pregnant woman? You only need to endure it for another three months. Then, we can go back to how things were." Upon hearing his words, I almost cried at how ridiculous they sounded. I finally decided to get a divorce, but Zane actually brought Moira Green home openly and without shame.

I gave up everything to become a housewife—all for Tristan Fowler and our daughter. But ever since his first love got divorced, everything has changed. Tristan despises me, and my daughter orders me around like a maid. Crushed, I sign the divorce papers, give up everything, and leave for a faraway place. So why are they the ones now full of regret?

We have been dating for ten years, but Vincent Carter has never been romantic toward me. However, before our wedding, he has someone deliver a delicate bracelet and an elegant dress to me. I take photos of them happily, only to find a card tucked inside the dress that's not addressed to me. Just as I'm about to contact Vincent, I see a post from Emily Foster, his childhood sweetheart, on her social media. "Someone stole something that belongs to me!" That's also how I find out Vincent has also bought her an apartment. The address stated on the card is for the unit downstairs. The gift is meant for unit 701, but it's delivered to me by mistake. I pick up the items and go downstairs, just in time to see Vincent gently comforting her in his arms. The moment he sees me, his face darkens with irritation. "Can you stop overreacting? You're always suspicious for no reason. Emily and I grew up together. If we were going to be together, you wouldn't even be in the picture!" If it were before, I would've been furious and demanded an explanation. But now, I simply let out a chuckle and toss the gifts onto him. "I wish you both the best, then."

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!"

My husband, Clement Norman, promised to make up for our missed honeymoon. It was five years late, but I was still excited. I got ready and really looked forward to it. But right before we boarded the plane, I realized there was someone extra in our group—Clement's childhood friend, Madison Bowen. He explained half-heartedly, "Madison's never been abroad before. I figured we could bring her along." I wasn't thrilled, but when I spoke up, he made it sound like I was being dramatic. "Are you jealous of our relationship because you didn't grow up with a proper family? I see her as a sister. You wouldn't get it—you grew up an orphan." I chose to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin our honeymoon. But we encountered an avalanche halfway through the trip. My leg got stuck deep in the snow, and I couldn't move. And the first thing Clement did was grab Madison's hand and run. He didn't even look back.

When Ethan was at his poorest, he came home drunk after negotiating a deal with a client. He could not even stand straight when he reached home, but he desperately pulled out two pieces of melting chocolate from his pocket. “Honey, for you! Your favorite!” During those endless days of arguments that followed, I always thought back to those two pieces of chocolate. They were the reason I compromised with him, fell pregnant for him, even miscarried for him. It all ended just now, when he forgot to log out of his WhatsApp on his computer. His friend messaged him. [Hey, your wife doesn’t know Anna joined your company yet, does she?] [Back when she was about to leave the country, you searched the whole city for her favorite chocolate, but you still couldn’t convince her to stay. After that, you got dead drunk and cried the entire way home.] [That was when I knew you would never get over her.]