Anonymous Noise

My husband forces me to donate my remaining kidney to his true love. He wants to save her from death by uremia. I try to tell him that I have kidney failure—I'll die if I donate my kidney. However, he roars, "Stop playing your jealous games when Shawna is so gravely ill! Don't you have a heart?" Under his forcefulness, I'm taken to the hospital to get my kidney removed. Ultimately, I die in a corner of the hospital.

At our tenth engagement party, my girlfriend crushed my heart again, leaving my proposal ring dangling in the air. She had been chasing the ghost of her first love, and I was done being her fallback guy. When I finally opened my heart to someone new, she realized what she'd lost. Ten years together, ten engagement parties, and still, she wouldn't take my ring. Every time we reached the moment to exchange vows, she'd stare at the door, waiting for that man to swoop in and rescue her. She swore she'd only marry me if he crashed the party, claiming it would prove she'd truly chosen me. This time, I couldn't hold back. "If he never shows, are you just gonna keep stringing me along forever?" She shot back, "He still loves me. He'll show up to stop this. Besides, we've been together a decade. Does a ring even matter at this point?"

I left Seaport for Crellan, thinking I was about to marry Bryson. Instead, I got drugged and kidnapped on our engagement day. Barely conscious, I caught him talking to his assistant. "Doctor and kidnappers—handled?" Bryson said. "Get her kidney. Lily's out of time." The assistant wavered. "She's not in great shape. This could ruin her." That gave Bryson a flicker of guilt—but it vanished quick. "She's not fragile like Lily. She's a broke student. If her kidney didn't match, she wouldn't be living like this. That's worth it." His face stayed ice-cold. I clenched my fist so hard my nails dug in, blood pooling in my mouth. So that was true Bryson—a monster in disguise. He thought I wanted to sell my health for some empty marriage. Too bad I never wanted it.

My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on. She needed a transplant. Fast. But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead. That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope. That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time. All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her." Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way. And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.

The day I get engaged, my brother brings home a woman who's my age. He says she's his actual sister and accuses me of stealing her life for the past 20 years. Even my fiancé says she's his rightful wife. I'm kicked out of home. Meanwhile, my brother and fiancé take the true heiress traveling. They even give her the villa they had prepared for me. Half a month later, they suddenly remember it's my birthday. To their dismay, they find that they can't see me anymore—I've joined a secret ten-year project organized by the nation. They're supposed to be happy, but they now regret everything.

My wife's first love broke into our home and killed me. Yet my wife, one of the world's top defense attorneys, stood in court to secure his acquittal. She insisted that the entire incident was nothing more than an act I had staged myself—a desperate attempt to win her attention. She even appeared at my funeral. Pointing at my coffin with open disgust, she sneered, "You'd stoop this low just to get my sympathy? Stop pretending and come out right now to apologize to Marvin."

On the third anniversary, which also happens to be Natalie Sherman's birthday, her husband, Lester Garrison, gives her a very special gift—a divorce agreement. Calmly, Lester picks up a pen and drops his signature on the bottom left corner of the agreement. Then, he pushes the document in Natalie's direction. "Rene is very stubborn, and it's very difficult for me to appease her. Only when I'm divorced will she agree to accept me as her lover. "I've already signed the divorce agreement. You should do the same. Don't worry, we're just faking this divorce." Lester's tone is very casual, not to mention he sounds emotionless, too. It's as though he's discussing what to have for dinner tonight.

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.

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.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife, who had struggled with fertility for years, suddenly felt nauseous. The college student we had been sponsoring panicked and rushed her to the hospital. Half an hour later, she called me. "I'm pregnant." I was thrilled, until her next words froze me in place. "The father's the college student, the one we've been supporting. He got sick that night and I felt bad for him, so I stayed over. I didn't think anything would happen. We have to keep this quiet. He's graduating soon and joining our company. We can't let this mess things up for him. "And you need to quit your job, so he can take your position. I'm going to need you home to take care of me." The sheer audacity left me speechless, but I kept my voice level. "Okay." She hung up, satisfied. What she did not know was that years ago, someone had made me a promise. If I turned 30 years old and still did not have a child, she would give me one. Today was my 30th birthday.