Anonymous Confessions Novels & Stories

After working five years as Ethan Moore's ghost architect, he once again handed off the position of the project lead to someone else. As usual, he dangled the carrot in my face. “Think about the bigger picture, Arya. Just wait a little longer. Until the firm’s next round of funding, and we get listed on the stock market, I promise I’ll make you the lead architect of the next project…” When I was twenty-one, I was a fool who willingly staked everything in an uncertain future with him. Now, I am twenty-eight. Years of waiting and endless revisions of blueprints had whittled away all the love and courage I once had. I packed up my portfolio and gave up on my lifelong dream of becoming an architect in Manhattan. I gave up on him as well. I’m not waiting anymore, Ethan.

It's my third wedding anniversary with Eanes Lambert. However, he and his childhood sweetheart put on a public display of affection on their social media. "My heart beats for you and you only." I like the post and share it, but the original post is immediately deleted. Later, Eanes calls me to tell me off. "I was just comforting her because she was in a bad mood. Do you have to be so petty? What else can you do other than get jealous of others?" The next second, I receive a photo of him and his childhood sweetheart kissing passionately. She's the one who's sent it to me. In the past, I would've stormed over there to kick up a fuss. Now, however, I merely choose to leave Eanes. I'll let him have what he wants.

After saving my girlfriend, Tiffany Swain, I suffer from a concussion, leading to me getting rushed to the hospital. That's when I decide to play a prank on her. "Who are you?" When I see Tiffany's expression freeze on her face, I almost burst out laughing. But Tiffany suddenly points at her best friend, Janet Emery. "I'm your fiancee's friend. That's your fiancee, Janet Emery." This time, my expression freezes on my face. Janet approaches me at that moment. "That's right. I'm your fiancee." I squeeze out a smile at her. "Let's go home, then."

It was the fifth year of my secret marriage to the CEO. At the company's annual gala, her male assistant got down on one knee and proposed to her in front of everyone. The way she looked at him was filled with nothing but affection. Caught up in the crowd's cheers and chants, she said yes. After the gala, I signed the divorce papers and handed them to her. Her assistant put on a sheepish, apologetic face and said, "I'm so sorry—I just wanted to know what it felt like to propose. Please don't be upset, Mr. Gabehart." She rushed to comfort him, then barely glanced at me and said, "You'd better think this through. At your age, honestly—who else would want you if you leave me?"

To save her first love, who suffered from uremia, my wife, who was a judge, used her influence to pressure the hospital into awarding one of my kidneys to him. I explained to my wife that I had kidney failure. Transplanting another kidney would mean certain death for me. However, my wife yelled at me in disgust, “His illness is serious, and you’re still acting jealous and competing for my attention? Do you even have a heart?” With the lawyer she hired, she won a court ruling that sent me to the hospital for the kidney transplant. In the end, my kidney failure worsened. I died alone in a forgotten corner of the hospital.

My husband, Zachary Larson, and I are holding a welcome dinner for my sister, Julia Scott. When someone asks what Julia's greatest regret is, she raises her glass and looks at Zachary dreamily. "It's probably the time I wasn't brave enough to keep his child." Everyone starts to whisper amongst themselves. I tighten my grip on the pregnancy check-up report I'm about to reveal to them. My stomach twists with the emotions swirling in my head. Julia suddenly returns to her senses and chuckles. "I was just kidding. We were only friends with benefits, so don't take it to heart, Queenie. He married you, so you're the one he loves."

Princess Vionna of Aurenza was dead. She died in the estate of Theron Thornefell, Warden of the North—buried beneath snow and silence. The blizzard raged for seven days before it eased, uncovering her frostbitten body beneath the drifts. Even in death, she was curled around her swollen belly, one arm reaching toward the nearest gates. No one came. She and the unborn child were frozen to death. Left behind. As the cold took her, regret cut deep. She never should've loved him. Never should've bowed. Because of her, the child never saw the sky. If she had another life, she'd never look his way again.

After five years of harboring an unrequited love for Lara Lawson, I am physically and emotionally exhausted. So, I marry my childhood friend, Celine Young, instead. To the outside world, Celine and I are the perfect couple. We share a wonderful life together and eventually welcome an adorable baby boy. I regard her as someone who has been by my side my entire life. But one day, I turn on her phone and discover two unsent messages. "If you want, I can divorce him immediately." "You're the only man I'll ever love." As it turns out, what I thought was my salvation is nothing but a cruel joke. I am nothing but a convenient stand-in. And to make matters worse, even my own flesh and blood is on her side. Heartbroken, I cut off contact and walk out of their lives without a trace of hesitation. After I leave them, they begin to panic. "Can you please stay, honey?" "Please don't go, Dad."

After a car accident, my wife loses her memory. She throws herself into her first love's arms and frantically aborts our child. When I confront her in despair, she looks at me with nothing but contempt. "Why would I keep some child when I don't even know who the father is? You're really shameless, pulling this stunt just to avoid splitting the assets." What she doesn't know is that I have made a deal with the system to bring her back to life. By the time she remembers everything, she's already searching desperately for me all over the world. But I can never return.

At a family gathering, my fiancée gently wiped her recently returned childhood friend’s mouth with a tissue right in front of me. “Sorry about that. Clairy had always been this thoughtful.” I nodded, then turned to her younger sister. I draped my jacket over her shoulders and fed her the shrimp I had just peeled. “If she was so thoughtful, I could not fall short on courtesy either.”