Confession Duet Novels & Stories

"Sit tight." The convertible flung the man behind us far away, until he shrank into an indistinguishable black dot. The coastal highway was wide and smooth, stretching endlessly along the shoreline. Turning on the music, the chorus of My Dearest Delusion spilled out, romantic, with a gentle hook in its lingering notes, drifting off into the seaside wind. The brilliant sunset dyed the sky red, and my white veil was lifted by the wind. My heartbeat was so loud I could hear it.

The first entry read, "If Sutton Group's cash flow ever collapses, send the trust password anonymously to Julian's second in command. Let them turn on each other." The second entry read, "Refuse invasive ventilation. I don't want to lie in a bed covered in tubes." The third entry, dated six months later, read, "Amelia, don't go looking for her. Don't let her see me like this. I don't want her to think I'm disgusting." Renee stared at the words on the screen. The cursor hovered on the final punctuation mark for a long moment. Dr. Marsh scrolled to the last folder, dated 14 days ago, the day before I lost my voice completely. It held only a single line, read aloud through a speech synthesizer.

Then all eyes turn to me. “You may speak, my son.” The Father’s voice makes my breath cease. Unlinking my fingers, I fist them at my sides, gathering all the courage I can muster. “I-I’ve killed, stolen, and am guilty of the seven deadly sins. But I don’t want to be free from them, except one… Lust.” The silence is jarring. Nothing moves. What are they thinking? They better not judge me. Confession Tuesdays are highly confidential. It better stay that way.

Conner standing beside him laughed as everyone's attention diverted towards him but one stare from the grey eyed man made him suppress his laughter. "You are getting married to him." He answered as I felt my mind would explode. "If I marry someone else how will this heat go away? Cheating is a sin." I asked as I was breathing heavily. Conner and Kaz shared a look as if they were controlling their laughter but the grey eyed man was looking the opposite. He massaged his temple while looking ahead. "Well I am a sinner." He answered while gritting his teeth as I turned around towards the General who was about to say something to me when the he started announcing.

“Serious men don’t touch my fiancé, serious men don’t whisper love to him in the dark. Serious men don’t—” “I have a confession,” Dominique interrupted softly. Something in his tone stopped me. Not his words, but the way he said them. I narrowed my eyes. “A confession?” “Yes.” His gaze didn’t waver. “The truth.” For a moment, my chest rose and fell with sharp breaths. Then I pulled him closer, my face inches from his. “Then say it,” I growled. “Spill it now before I carve it out of you. What is your truth?”

It's really scary, we stopped for a moment and Wave answered the call. "Who the fuck are you? Why do you keep calling?" He shouted. This is the first time I heard him shouting although we're both dating for so many years. He set the call to speaker mode. But that someone laughed in the other line like Wave said something funny that made him laugh. Is it him or her? I can't tell the gender co'z that someone might be using some changing voice application, so no one will identify him/her.

My chest locked instantly, like someone had pressed pause on my blood. “I said he’s gay,” he repeated himself, still scrolling. “Bet that’s what he wants to confess. If it was anything else, he’d have posted it already. This is bigger.” My ears rang. I could’ve sworn he said you’re gay. My thoughts scattered, tripping over each other. Guilt crawled under my skin, thick and hot, making it hard to breathe properly. “We better hurry and get a good spot,” Layla said, laughing too loud. “If he’s really confessing, I’ll be in the front row. I’m not missing that.”

Dieu n'échoue jamais ein ein ein C'est quel problème qui te fait reculer Il ne ment jamais ein ein ein C'est quelle promesse il peut pas assumer eh eh Je suis son enfant anh anh anh Papa est là je n'peux échouer eh eh Sa main est sur moi oh, sur moi, sur moi C'est quel Goliath je n'peux pas tuer S'il y'a des hommes pour prier

Like I was the only thing that mattered in the world. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” I said, the words feeling like a confession. “But I want to. I really do.” He didn’t speak right away, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—hope, maybe, or relief. I wasn’t sure. But it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t the only one struggling with this. We were both standing at the edge of something unknown, something dangerous, but at the same time, something we couldn’t resist.

“If you wanted to confess, you could’ve just said so instead of going around in circles.” “Confess?” She scoffed, the sarcasm in her smile deepening. “Is that wound infected? Maybe the fever’s cooked your brain?” Exactly which part of her words sounded like a confession? “If you’re Red Falcon and I’m the crow…” Dylan leaned in, his face suddenly close to hers. “Both birds, aren’t we? What else could that be but a confession?” “Pfft…” Suzy couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Dylan, how did I never notice before just how wild your imagination is?”