Anonymous Confessions Novels & Stories

One week before the wedding, I accidentally came across a copy of my girlfriend's abortion procedure report. She always insisted she was uninterested in being intimate, yet behind my back, she had secretly aborted another man's baby. Instead of questioning her, I quietly put the report back where I found it. For the next week, I went along with the wedding planning, picking out the outfits and rings. But on the day of the wedding, the bride, waiting endlessly for the groom who never came, lost her mind.

That night, I got off work early and brought home some late-night snacks. When I opened the door, I saw a pair of high heels carelessly tossed in the entryway and Gregory’s blazer thrown over the couch. His heavy breathing and the woman’s moans could be heard through the gap between the door and its frame. I was all too familiar with this sight. This time, I did not storm out like I used to. Instead, I sat quietly at the dining table and finished my cold pizza.

My father was certain that the mother and daughter my husband brought back from Southern River were the daughter and granddaughter of an impeached official. As such, he locked them up. Afton Springfield, my husband, begged for my father’s mercy for seven days and nights outside the palace. This caused my father to fly into a rage. He wanted to get us divorced and execute Afton. To appease my father, I had begged him to release the mother and daughter as well in the previous timeline, even though I was heavily pregnant. Feeling resigned, my father sent the mother—Melinda—and daughter to the army as soldier servants. He also spared Afton and ordered him to treat me well so that he would not let me down. For ten years, we loved each other and got along cordially. However, ten years later, he poisoned my father and brother. Then, he put a child on the throne so that he could become the regent. Once he was done, he forced me to apologize before Melinda’s tombstone. He also had hooligans humiliate me. As for my son, he threw him into a den of snakes, and my son died in agony. In my despair, I saw his resentful gaze. “You killed Melinda and her daughter. You have no right to continue living! If Melinda didn’t die, she would be my wife, and you would live at the bottom of society. You could never compare to Melinda.” When I opened my eyes again, I found myself pleading for my father’s mercy with Afton. This time, I decided to fulfill Afton’s wish.

As the fated mate of the future Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, I've been waiting for Ethan Ford for three whole years. When he gets close to me, my wolf howls obnoxiously because of the mate bond between us. Despite that, he refuses to complete the marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. After that, Ethan shows signs of obsessive infatuation with Ella Turner, my stepsister. He claims that Ella is his true love and goes as far as to release his possessive pheromones all over the pack territory while completely disregarding the pack's rules just so he can woo her. This time, my wolf no longer howls in sorrow, nor do I attempt to get him to stay with me via our mind-link. Instead, I just watch Ethan and Ella's lovey-dovey interactions calmly. At that moment, I've already taken the initiative to block Ethan out of my mind forever.

After being reborn, I cut off every line of contact with Maxwell Sutton. He chooses Elmshore University, so I change my application to Stonewick University instead. My goal is to stay far away from him and never cross paths again. When he comes back to the country for holidays and tries to meet up, I fly abroad. I block him on social media and stop replying to his emails. The moment he joins the same company as me, I hand in my resignation. I don't even want to see him from a distance. In my previous life, I was obsessed with him for 20 years, and he betrayed me for 20 years. I was diagnosed with a terminal illness in my 30s. While I took my last breath, Maxwell was busy planning a wedding with his first love. The daughter we raised adjusted his suit like the perfect child, while I died alone in a hospital room. And now, I refuse to live that ridiculous life again.

I dated my lawyer boyfriend for five years. He canceled our wedding. Fifty-two times. First time? His intern messed up some paperwork. He ditched me at the beach to fix it. I waited all day. Alone. Second time, we were mid-ceremony when he bolted. Heard that intern was getting heat from another lawyer and left me to face the guests and their stares. After that, every time we tried again, there was always some "emergency" with her. Always. I finally hit my limit. I was done. Packed up and broke it off. But the day I left Ainsley? He totally lost it trying to find me.

After giving me the cold shoulder for a month, Jules Anderson voluntarily handed me two VIP wristbands for Coachella and invited me to attend it on our wedding anniversary. I was dressed to the nines that day, but he never appeared, even after admissions started. Then, once I was about to enter, I realized that the wristbands in my bag were gone. At that moment, Jules' childhood sweetheart, Maddie Washington, updated her social media. In the photo, Jules was solemnly holding a pink cotton candy, completely different from his usual cold and aloof demeanor. The caption read: [Finally seeing Domi Dora. Thank you to the person who always responds to my every request.] Looking at the empty compartment in my bag, I suddenly understood everything. In the past, I would have had a big argument with Jules and forced him to give me an explanation. Now, I just felt relieved. It had been five years. I accumulated so many disappointments that I was drained.

The day my wife slept with her terminally ill “male best friend” to take his virginity, I left a divorce agreement behind and walked out. Before I left, I commented under their hand-holding photo on Instagram. [Let's get divorced. I wish you and Theo a long and happy life together.] One minute later, she called me. "Logan, how did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you? Can you really let him die without someone to carry on his line?" I sneered and replied that she wasn't my wife anymore, so that wasn't really my problem. She panicked.

On my fifth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Sutton, announces her pregnancy on her social media feed. "After going through artificial insemination for the 39th time, I finally got pregnant with your child as I wished." The accompanying photo features Rachel lacing fingers tightly with her first love, Damon Calloway. I leave a like on the photo calmly. Then, I give them my blessings. The next thing I know, Rachel calls me on the phone. She roars at me furiously, "Damon is diagnosed with cancer! What's wrong with me bearing a child for him? Garrett Whitaker, you're being too much right now!" I reply coolly, "Then come back and file for a divorce. Once the divorce is through, you can go ahead and find yourself a husband who won't 'become too much.'"

At my son's tenth birthday, I unexpectedly gained the power to read minds. Standing before the candles, he made his wish. "I hope I score a hundred on my finals." Before I could commend his maturity, a second wish slammed into my ears. "I don't like Dad. I want Mr. Shaw to be my dad.'' My hands froze halfway through a clap.