Confession Anonymous Online

My CEO boyfriend promises that he'll only complete 99 wishes with his first love—she's lost her memory after being injured. However, I see them curling up in each other's arms when the wishes are completed. Later, I stop pestering him about him caring for his first love. All I ask from him is an anklet for a baby—I want it as a remembrance of our child's birth, which is happening soon. His gaze softens at the mention of the child. "Once I'm done with this, I'll accompany you shopping so we can pick out things for the baby." I nod compliantly. I don't tell him it's already been a week since I asked a lawyer to draft a breakup agreement. In fact, we're already broken up.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

We'd been legally married for seven years, yet my CEO "fiance", Jared Lane, had ditched me at the altar thirteen times. At our first wedding, his assistant, Maeve Fischer, scraped her leg. I spent the entire day waiting alone at the ceremony. At our second wedding, he heard she was sick and tossed the wedding ring away to rush to her side. On every wedding day after that, some accident would conveniently happen to her. By the 13th time he bailed, I had had enough and decided to walk away. But when I found comfort in another man's arms, Jared lost his mind trying to win me back.

My husband's true love developed acute kidney failure, and I was the only matching donor. To save her life, he forced me to terminate my pregnancy at six months. Despite his gentle tone, he said the most heart-wrenching words, "Can't you be a little kinder? You're just losing a child, but she's losing her life." I resisted with every fiber of my being, but he threatened his own life to force my hand. On the operating table, both my child and I died. Meanwhile, his true love's transplant was a success, and she lived. Although the outcome was exactly what he wanted, he spiraled into madness upon hearing news of my death.

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

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.

On the day I was supposed to donate my bone marrow, my mother called me. “You’re pretending to be sick again? We’re just asking you to donate some bone marrow. Why are you acting like we want you to die?” My brother agreed. “How could you be so horrible? You owe her this one! Even if she’s asking you to die, it’s because you deserve it!” Even my boyfriend could not hide his anger. “It’s just a bone marrow donation. We’re not asking you to die. How could you be so selfish?” They did not know that I would indeed die if I donated my bone marrow. Since they wanted me to die so much, so be it.

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."

When my pilot boyfriend canceled our wedding for the 18th time, I finally snapped. The first time, his trainee got her period, and he bailed on me just to take care of her. The second time, she messed up a task, and all he said was, "Jan's upset", before walking out and leaving me to face our wedding guests alone like some kind of joke. We've been together for three years, and every single time she had an issue, he dropped our wedding plans to rush to her side. Finally, it hits me—maybe I never really mattered to him. So I make up my mind to see the world on my own and book a flight to Pavrielle. At least this way, no one will get the chance to leave me behind again.

Hayden Baxter's sidepiece comes up to me and throws yet another tantrum. "I love Hayden too much. Can't you let me have him?" Hayden sits quietly on one side but texts me, "Just say yes and humor her for a bit." I do as I am told, then wordlessly begin to pack up my stuff so I can move out of the home I share with Hayden. On my way out, I hear his friends jesting, "Elena is surprisingly obedient. Does this mean she'll abort her baby if you ask her to, Hayden?" Hayden raises a brow, looking nonchalant. "Want to place a bet on it? "I bet she'd whine and throw a fit at the hospital entrance in a week, only to give in and do as she's told." I don't argue. Instead, I quietly tap on my conversation with someone else. "Will you marry me?" "Yes."