Heart Wrenching Romance Novels & Stories

But I couldn't fall in love; no I couldn't. It'd only hurt her. That's the reason I never wanted to go on with this marriage stuff. I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me. But since its already happened... I just can't fall in love. I wasn't ready for it. And I hate it that I was forced into this. I sighed and leaned on the wall. My head ached a lot. I guess we'd have to share the bed. #Next_morning 🕖🕖🕖🕖🕖

“Get lost! Don’t touch her! She’s afraid of pain!” He fell on his knees on top of the blood. Then, with trembling hands, he tried to piece my broken body back together. Blood instantly soaked his suit red. But he hugged my mangled body tightly and pressed his face against my bloody hospital gown as he howled, “Elena, get up! I won’t force you to do things you don’t want anymore! I won’t marry Jody! Get up! Save her, doctor! Take my blood and heart! Save her!”

“Because you asked me to. Because I promised. Because I want to be the kind of man who can love you without turning your life into a war.” My eyes sting. “You already are.” His gaze flicks to my mouth, then back to my eyes, always checking, always asking. “Can I hold you,” he murmurs. “Yes,” I whisper. He pulls me close carefully, arm wrapping around my back, pressure gentle enough not to jostle his wound. My cheek rests against his chest, and I hear his heart steady, stubborn, alive. For a few breaths, the world becomes small enough to survive. Then he kisses the top of my head, soft and trembling.

' 'Why does my heart ache so much? Elena whispered inwardly, swallowing the bitterness in her heart. She didn’t want to show it, she knew her place, and she was already grateful for things as they were. With trembling hands, Elena raised her hand and gently placed it on her husband’s forehead. Even when her husband said words that hurt her, she still showed her sincerity. ... Meanwhile, Callista had finished talking with her husband. He had already gone to the company he managed, which gave Callista more time to carry out her plans.

I can’t look away. For a moment, the wolves out to kill us fades into the background. It’s just the two of us, locked in this strange, desperate dance. My heart is hammering in my chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that echoes the turmoil in my mind. I don’t know what to say, what to do. All I know is that the sight of him hurt, because of me, is more than I can stand.

Her legs walked so fast her joints were burning, she was running, running from her past running from Richard's hurt, and running presently from Leonardo. Who knows, who might hurt her next? If she doesn't run, she doesn't know what her heart might do next, her heart is speaking in a language her mind finds confusing. Funny enough only Leonardo seems to be the one who clearly understands her heart and she was running from him. If she doesn't run, he would win her and then break her glued remainder of what she calls a heart. Which worked on its rusted hinges, and might give up from another fatal blow. She is simply running because she is afraid of falling in love with Leonardo.

I want to yell and cuss, but that could push her further away from me. "I found the notebook," I say. I absolutely hate that movie, but I know she may like it. "We don't have to watch that, Roman," she is quick to reply. That movie will probably hurt her heart, my wolf hisses at me. All women want true love and a man who will go through hell for them. You showed her you're not the romantic type he trails off as we look at her. She is looking out the window, probably wishing she was anywhere, but here.

His thumbs brushed across my cheeks, rough and callused, but so impossibly gentle that it made my chest ache. He leaned in, so close I could feel his breath ghosting against my skin. "I heard your howl," he said, his voice thick and rough. "Through everything. Through the walls. Through the pain. I heard you." My throat tightened painfully. I covered his hands with mine, squeezing, grounding myself in the feeling of him. "I’ve never been more in love with you," Roman whispered, his forehead pressing against mine. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of him, the truth of his words, settle deep into the cracks inside me. I smiled through the tears slipping down my cheeks, tears I didn’t even b

Golden sun streams came through the window into the Johnson mansion to bathe the great dining room with its warmth. Three days since the accident had happened, and it is within the atmosphere brought along by such a situation in life. All was well but the surface of each heart seated on hot coals -and burned so much more under Jasmine's skin than any person could imagine.

And because she needed it too. Roman brought his hands to her face with disconcerting tenderness, as if it were made of glass, as if the simple act of touching her could break him. His fingers traced her cheek, moved down to her jaw, tracing the shape of her mouth without touching it yet. As if he were preparing for something too big, even for him. And then he kissed her. But it wasn't a simple kiss, it wasn't a brush of lips. It was a slow, deep kiss, his tongue desperately searching every corner of her mouth with silent desperation. A kiss laden with farewell, with pain, with contained rage, and with that love that neither dared to name, but that both felt burning between their ribs.