Confess Letter Novels & Stories

I stood at the centre, before Elder Lennox, with my hands clasping tightly behind my back to hide the nervous twitch of my fingers. Cal stirred restlessly in the back of my mind. He gave me a soft growl. *You’re slipping, Carl,* He warned. *Keep your composure. You didn't do anything wrong, you didn't forge anything.* He got my heart hardened. I wanted to snap back at elder Lennox to cover up all the expression I leaked out of me, but his booming voice came before mine. “I’ll say it again, Beta,” Elder Lennox said, his sharp eyes boring into mine. “This letter.....” He held the letter as if it were a piece of freaking evidence in a courtroom. "Was not written by Alpha Jacqueline.” He complet

"Dear Ella and Aviv, I am not mentioning my name, but you will surely know who I am by the end of this letter. Collecting all the courage and guts, I am writing this letter to you two because I need to confess something. I need to tell you the truth which you two are seeking to know for many days. You know what I was waiting for this moment from a long time ago, but I was also in doubt that this time would ever come. Ella, it's especially you who needs to know the truth. So, I am writing every single truth which you have full right to know.

SARAH Confess. To openly admit something or declare something that you’ve been hiding, keeping secret, or feeling guilty about. Turns out what the rest of the world knows—and that includes their psychotic foster father who has been out of touch with the world, their world, for almost twenty fucking years—that I don’t, exists. It is not just a concept I made up in my head. It is not an abstract. It is a thing. It is their history, their truth.

But the more I told myself that, the more impossible it seemed. The letter sat on the counter all evening, its single page spreading light in the soft glow from the kitchen lamp. I kept walking past it, pretending not to look. Each time, my eyes betrayed me. By midnight, I’d memorised the words. By two a.m., I’d convinced myself it was him. The idea lodged itself somewhere between comfort and ache. If he had written it, what did it mean? Was it confession, or kindness? Had he felt the same pull all along and simply chosen a quieter way to speak it?

It was the most luxurious pair of shoes she had. She was petite and she had a delicate face. Her dull gaze didn't look around at the crowd surrounding her and she didn't look up at the person in front of her either. All she wanted was to finish her task and get back her scholarship application form. As for this senior named Jepherson Richards, he had nothing to do with her. She paused. Then, without looking up at the person in front of her, she opened up the love letter gradually with a stiff movement. She cleared her throat and said loudly in front of everyone, "Please accept my confession."

Her gaze darts from one point to another. I grab her gently by her shoulder. “Tell me clearly. What letter?” She flinches at my voice. I let my hands fall by my side. “The… the one that he wrote to me before…” she swallows, unable to finish the sentence. Ah, that letter. “Where did you keep it? Didn’t you bring it with you to the palace?” She mutely shakes her head. I frown. “I showed another letter to the alpha king,” she murmurs her confession before I can quiz further. I press my lips together, not knowing how to respond to this. It is a criminal offense to tamper or make false claims.

This was how i usually communicated, my voice written on paper. The pen trembled in my grasp, each letter a struggle against the fear that choked me. My heart hammered against my ribs, a continues drumbeat echoing the tremor in my hands. I couldn't look at him, not yet. My gaze was fixed on the empty page, the blank paper mocking my desperate need to be believed. Finally, I scrawled the words, each one a confession wrenched from the depths of my soul. “I’m your Mate! You have to believe whatever I tell you… your brother walked into the room and tried to force himself on me.” I wrote down before handing the paper to Harold who grabbed it with force before reading it out loudly.

I don't even know if I am ready to confess yet or not. "When did you tell Chelsea?" I texted back. "He deserves to know because I also have a confession to make to you Emily. Today, it has to be in front of Father." Liam texted me back and I dropped the phone. What did he have to say? What confession? I looked at him and he did the same then winked at me. "About what you said, Father" Liam said and stood up from the chair. He cast a glance at me and looked at Father.

Yours, always, Damian Isabelle finished reading the letter, her vision blurred by the tears streaming down her face. She sank to the floor, the cold marble a sharp contrast to the burning heat in her chest. The letter was a raw, honest confession of a man who was no longer a CEO but a man who was broken, a man who was vulnerable, a man who was deeply, truly in love. He had given her everything, and he had asked for nothing in return. He had confessed his love, his pain, his regrets, and his hopes, and he had done so with a humility that was utterly disarming.

“We are doing everything right now because by morning you might change your mind. Listen. As soon as we end this call, I will send you the write up of what you will have to say while making the videotape. I felt my breath hitch. “What write-up?” I asked though deep down I already knew what he was talking about. “The confession,” he said smoothly. “The one where you accuse Leo of rape so he gets charged. There is concrete evidence to back it up so don’t worry. Even your parents will be proud of you.” I shut my eyes, the weight of guilt pressing down on me as I bit my lower lips listening to my heart thumping really fast. “But he didnt rape me.” I whispered.