Cerita Pendek & Novel Unattainable Love Romance

When Matthew Sinclair accused me of selling company secrets, I expected my girlfriend to stand by me. Instead, Selena Oxford told me to apologize. To the man who framed me. That was the moment I understood that trust was not something you pleaded for. You either had it, or you did not. I resigned the same day, cut every tie, left a ring on the table that she would never wear, and walked out of her life without looking back. I believed we would never cross paths again. Eight years later, at a black-tie banquet, Selena spotted me across the crowd. I was dancing with another woman, moving through the room as if I belonged there. In front of everyone, now known as a corporate powerhouse, she met my gaze with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Was it for her? Is that why you left me eight years ago?"

Celeste Lodge has been married to Terence Ford for three years. He's hated her guts the whole time. The day Winona Ford returns, he finally can't take it anymore and begins planning to fake his death so he can run away with her. "I'll fake my death in one month. I'll give up my position as heir to the Ford family and be with Winona forever." Hearing this from outside the operating room, Celeste Lodge immediately contacts a lawyer to draft divorce papers. Then, she calls her brother, Hayden Lodge, who lives abroad. "Hayden, I'm done with Terence. I'm ready to leave and live overseas with you."

To help her first love, Simon Ahern, win the sprint championship, my girlfriend, Cecelia Holt, deliberately locked me in the basement the night before the competition. She looked at me icily and said grimly, "How many times have you beaten him? So what if I give the championship to him?" Later, she even broke my legs to help him steal the national team selection spot. I desperately asked Cecelia why she treated me like this; I was her boyfriend after all. However, she retorted, "He accompanied me through the three years of depression. I must fulfill this wish for him." However, she had no idea that with my legs gone, I was no different from someone who had lost their life. When I stopped loving her, she knelt before me and begged me to give her another chance.

On the day Owen Mercer and I get married, I place our marriage certificate beside our candlelit dinner. Just as I'm about to take a picture and upload it to social media, Owen suddenly says, "This certificate is fake." I freeze. A woman's startled voice comes through his phone, "Hey! Why did you tell her so soon? You ruined all the fun!" Owen frowns in frustration. "She's been completely clueless this entire time. Is there really any reason to keep pretending? Fine. You win the bet, Ms. McCoy. Are you satisfied now?" But my post has already been shared on social media. Everyone is sending their congratulations to Owen and me, celebrating that we have finally tied the knot after seven years together. The woman on the other end leaves a sarcastic comment, just like how she used to bully me back in the day. "Wow, look at you two finally making it official! So when's the reception? Hehe!" After a moment's thought, I respond, "Next week."

My husband, Caleb Price, and I, Sienna Hart, have been married for many years. Our relationship is going strong, and our son, Tobey, is thoughtful and kind. I've always believed we would spend our whole lives together. What I don't expect is that Caleb would hurt me and Tobey three times because of the same woman. The first time, we agree to celebrate Tobey's birthday, but Caleb forgets his promise because he has to pick up his first love, Lila Monroe, from the airport. When I return home from a business trip, all I find is my heartbroken son. The second time, Caleb secretly takes our son and Lila to the amusement park. He doesn't know that Tobey is allergic to peanuts, and he ends up in the hospital. The third time, Caleb repeatedly promises to pick Tobey up from school alone, but when Caleb hears that Lila is ill, he tells Tobey to go home by himself. On the way home, Tobey is kidnapped. After he's rescued, he spends three days in the hospital in critical condition before pulling through. Each time, Caleb apologizes with utmost sincerity and swears that there won't be a next time. Maybe he's forgotten, but I once told him that I'd only forgive him three times. So, when he finishes apologizing and thinks life will return to the happy days it was before… It doesn't. Yes, I forgive him, but I'm also taking Tobey and leaving him—forever.

After Princess Winona Green abandons me at the border's military camp for five years, she finally remembers my existence and decides to bring me home. When a dozen or so carriages that are laden with wedding gifts arrive at the military camp, Winona's expression is filled with unbridled smugness. "I did tell you that once I gave birth to Shane's child, I'd marry you, Gideon. See? I didn't lie to you at all. Today, I've personally come to the border just to pick you up." Then, Winona approaches me haughtily. "Shane might be a musician, but I've already sired the oldest child with him. It's only reasonable for him to be made an equal consort, just like you, the son of an official." I merely frown without saying anything. All I do is look at Winona. She lets out a sigh before walking toward me again. "I know that you've been hopelessly waiting for me for the past five years, Gideon. That's why I traveled all the way to this barren wasteland just to prove my sincerity to you. In half a month, we shall get married." The sight of Winona immersed in her own fantasy of fake devotion makes me chuckle coldly. "Seize them!" How dare Winona make me, the general of the border, fight with a mere musician over her affections! Does she really think that my blade is just a decoration?

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

I drag my suitcase out of the airport and walk straight into a massive billboard. "Welcome back, Jennifer Palmer, the great love of Ivan Olsen's life." The entire Internet praises him for having waited faithfully for ten years. A star-struck reporter shoves a microphone in my face and asks, "Ms. Palmer, are you moved that Mr. Olsen has remained celibate for you all this time?" I blink in confusion at her question. "Who's Ivan?"

After Chester Caldwell loses his vision, I donate my corneas to him without hesitation. He vows that he'll never let me down, yet he delays our wedding time and time again after his true love suddenly returns to the country. On the day of my birthday, his gift arrives, albeit late. I accept it expectantly only to find that they're two movie tickets. I question him about it, but he answers impatiently, "Who said anything about the blind being unable to watch movies? "You willingly gave up your vision back then—I didn't force you into anything! Stop thinking you can hold that against me forever!" His true love makes it sound like she's being charitable. "Sorry, Riley. The movie wasn't to my liking. You can throw the tickets away if you're not going to watch it, either!" I rip the tickets in half and leave. Later, I hear that Chester goes mad when he can no longer find his bride.

At the height of my love for Seth Scott, he gave his heart to someone else. The winter chill seeped through the walls, and I lay beneath my blankets, trembling through the long, dark hours. He was out there, holding another woman close, warming her feet against his chest. He dismissed me as dramatic, refusing even a final glance. But what he didn’t realize was that I was dying. And he would never have the chance to see me again.

My avoidant fiance refused to talk to me about anything. Every time we fought, he would put on his earphones and turn the volume all the way up. This time, we were arguing over laundry detergent again. He impatiently slammed the earphones on me. "Are you seriously going to do this again, Jessica? You fight because of bad photos. You start a fight because I didn't take out the trash in time, and you start fights because I forgot our anniversaries. And now I can't even choose which detergent I use?" I stared at the red mark on my thigh and the broken earphones on the ground. I saved up most of my salary for that. It was a present, but now he was using it to vent. Yet he had kept the laundry detergent his childhood friend gave him for six whole years. Every time an important date was coming up, he would use a bit of it to wash all his clothes. The sickly sweet scent of that detergent filled the room. I looked up and held back my tears. "Let's break up, Zack."

It was the fifth year of my engagement to Jake Zimmer. Just as we were preparing to get married, his first love came back. Suddenly, every promise he had made to me meant nothing. Because of her, he began to resent everything I did. That was when I realized I was nothing compared to the woman he truly loved. I was tired, so I let go. I gave them my blessing and walked away from Jake’s life for good. But then, he changed his mind. He came back in tears, begging me not to leave.

On the way home for the holidays, my wife, Sophie Hartman, and I were caught in a terrible accident. When I opened my eyes again, we had both gone back in time to before we ever fell in love. In our previous life, we'd been married for seven years. We were polite, respectful, and distant, almost like guests sharing the same house. And all those years, she never once agreed to have a child with me. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth. Sophie had never let go of the man she once loved. This time, I chose to set her free. We quietly deleted each other's contacts, kept our distance, and walked separate paths in life. … Seven years later, she became one of the most successful traders. At a class reunion, she announced her relationship with Vincent Parker, the man she had never forgotten. When she saw that I was still single, she couldn't resist teasing me. "Lucas, I know I've always been the one you love most, the one you're proudest of, but you don't have to spend your life waiting for me." I didn't respond. I simply took my son's hand. Sophie's face went pale. Her eyes reddened as she demanded, "You said you'd love me for life, that you'd only ever have children with me!"

After five years with Nathaniel Sinclair, Sylvia Garner thought their love would lead to a lifelong commitment. But when Nathaniel postponed their wedding, her world began to crumble. At a private club, Sylvia stumbled upon a scene that shattered her heart—Nathaniel down on one knee, proposing to another woman. “You’ve been with Sylvia for five years, but now you’re suddenly marrying Vivian Hayes. Aren’t you afraid she’ll be upset?” someone asked. Nathaniel shrugged it off. “Vivian is ill; this is her dying wish. Sylvia loves me too much to leave.” The whole world knew Sylvia loved Nathaniel to the point of obsession, believing she couldn’t live without him. But this time, he was wrong. On the day of his wedding, he told his friend, “Keep an eye on Sylvia. Don’t let her know I’m marrying someone else!” His friend froze. “Sylvia is getting married today too. Didn’t you know?” At that moment, Nathaniel broke down.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

While my husband was chatting with his friend at the dining table, his friend suddenly spoke in Italian. “You married Lyra to write a pardon letter for River. You’ve been showing more concern toward Lyra, but you’re still lying to her and saying that the contraceptives are antidepressants. Don’t you think Lyra will break down if she learns the truth?” My husband wore a complicated expression as he chuckled bitterly and said, “Why let a child be born if I don’t want it? As for Lyra, so long as she doesn’t interfere with River’s happiness, I’ll keep my promise and protect her for life.” No one knew that I had already learned Italian to keep up with my husband. I stood in the living room with fresh hickeys on my neck. In my hand, I held the “antidepressants” and felt a chill run down my spine. So, my husband’s love for me had been fake? My salvation had actually been a meticulously planned lie? In that case, I would help them fulfill their wishes.

On my wedding night, Sean Boswell was with his first love when I suffered a miscarriage as my kidnappers tortured me. I begged endlessly for him to save me, only for him to laugh, "You were just demanding a divorce in the morning, and now you're faking a kidnapping so that I'd come back? Is that the only thing you can do?" Eventually, when I gave up and stopped clinging on being Mrs. Boswell, he chased me to the airport, pleading with a crack in his voice, "Just stay, Anna. Let's make things how it used to be."

My boyfriend is summoned away by a phone call on the day he proposes to me. Once he's gone, his true love forces hard liquor down my throat with everyone watching. "You can drink on Oliver's behalf since you claim he can't drink. You've done this plenty of times over the years, anyway." I've carefully protected Oliver Sansbury for the past four years due to his heart condition. However, all I get in return is a slap to the face. Later, when I make his mother end up behind bars, he falls to his knees by my sickbed. He cries and begs me to marry him. It's too bad I'm about to die.

My husband's first love was scalded by boiling water. To punish me, he forced me into a customized steamer half my height, turned the heat to its highest setting, and sealed me inside. "I'll make you feel the pain Jessica suffered a thousand times over!" Trapped in the suffocating space, my breath came in ragged gasps. Heat seared my skin, and my body felt as though it would melt. I sobbed, begging him for mercy. "Please! I'm going to die!" But he didn't look back. Holding his beloved in his arms, he walked away. He even locked the door after he left the room. "Don't worry, you won't die. This is the only way you'll understand Jessica's pain." Despair swallowed me whole. I screamed, my voice raw, but the boiling water beneath me splashed up, scalding my skin, stealing even the strength to cry. He left the country with Jessica that same night. A week passed before he finally remembered my existence. "That wretched woman must have learned her lesson by now. Let her out." What he didn't know was that the water had long since boiled away, the heat had faded, and inside the steamer, my corpse lay rotting—swarmed with maggots.