Confessions Anonymous

When Matthew Sinclair accused me of selling company secrets, I expected my girlfriend to stand by me. Instead, Selena Oxford told me to apologize. To the man who framed me. That was the moment I understood that trust was not something you pleaded for. You either had it, or you did not. I resigned the same day, cut every tie, left a ring on the table that she would never wear, and walked out of her life without looking back. I believed we would never cross paths again. Eight years later, at a black-tie banquet, Selena spotted me across the crowd. I was dancing with another woman, moving through the room as if I belonged there. In front of everyone, now known as a corporate powerhouse, she met my gaze with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Was it for her? Is that why you left me eight years ago?"

We’d been together for seven years, but during that entire time, my fiancée rejected the idea of getting married ninety-nine times, all because of a male intern. The first time, she canceled our vacation at the last minute, saying the intern was stuck on a night shift and afraid of the dark. She got on a flight that very night and rushed back to the hospital. The second time, we were already halfway through the doors of the courthouse to get our marriage registered. But just then, she got word that the intern had collapsed from exhaustion. Without a second thought, she left me standing alone in the snow for the entire day. After that, it became a pattern. Every time we were together, the intern would find some excuse to pull her away. Eventually, I made up my mind to let go. I stopped dreaming about a happy marriage with her. However, just when I announced I was transferring to another city, she broke down, begging me, almost hysterically, not to leave.

To save his illegitimate son, who suffered from kidney failure, Lucas Cadell had his five-year-old daughter go through the kidney removal surgery without telling his wife. Upon finding out what happened, Cassiopeia Hepburn sped to the hospital. By the time she got there, the red indicator light above the operating room was already switched on. Her eyes were bloodshot as she desperately pounded the door and cried out, "Stop! I'm the mother! I do not consent to having her kidney removed!" Lucas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her to restrict her. His voice was filled with remorse as he spoke, "I'm sorry, Cassie, but Liam is going to die from kidney failure if I don’t do anything to save him. The only solution is to have Anya donate her kidney to him." Cassiopeia stared at the man she had loved for many years in disbelief. The man she was once so obsessed with seemed to have turned into a stranger.

At my engagement party, my cousin drugged herself and tearfully begged me to lend her my fiance for one night, so I sent the Eastons' youngest son, who had always had a thing for her, on her way. When Erin woke up and realized it wasn't my fiance, she killed herself out of shame and despair. My fiance didn't blame me; he treated me as he always had. Ridden with guilt, I took care of Erin's mother after her death. But on my wedding day, my groom turned husband had me drugged and threw me to beggars. "Erin suffered like this back then," he said coldly. "You can atone for her pain with that filthy body of yours." And so, on my wedding night, I was violated to death—with a baby in my belly. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to that night when Erin tearfully begged me to give my fiance to her.

On the night before our wedding, my fiancee, Elara Wynn, gave her first time to her first love, Drew Mercer. I left my engagement ring behind and walked away. Before I went, I posted a message on their social feed: "Hope you two get back together soon. I’m clearing the way for you." The very next second, my fiancee called. "Cassian Rowe, I just didn’t want to leave regrets in my life. Can you stop being so old-fashioned?" I answered, annoyed, that she was no longer my fiancee and had nothing to do with me. That was when she panicked.

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

On our wedding day, my wife's first love, Hank Scott, threatened to slit his wrists. She ignored him and went through with the ceremony anyway, until news arrived that he was dead, his blood staining the ground. From that moment on, Shirley Lowell withdrew into a convent, becoming the cold, distant woman everyone knew. In the name of atonement, she forced me to copy the Bible a thousand times and kneel in endless prayer, grinding me down until I was crippled. Bound to a wheelchair, I asked her for a divorce. She refused, saying we owed Hank a debt and had to atone for it together. She used my family to threaten me, keeping me by her side and tormenting me for the rest of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on our wedding day. This time, I chose to push her toward Hank. I would become the first love in her heart, the one who led her onto the path of devout faith.

When I was ten, I bugged my brother to come home for my birthday. He died in a plane crash that day. They never found his body. After that, my parents saw me as a total screw-up. They blamed me for his death. Every year on his memorial day, they forced me to kneel at the cemetery and repent my mistakes. I did that for eight years. I figured I'd spend my whole life paying for it. But on my 18th birthday, some creep stalked and murdered me. Right before I died, I tried calling for help. But my mom chewed me out. "I bet you're just dodging your duty to make up for James. You're full of crap. If you hadn't forced him to come back, he would have been alive. This is what you deserve." She hung up, leaving me staring at the dead screen. My last hope was dashed. She was right. Someone like me meant nothing but bad luck to those around me. I didn't deserve to exist. But then, eight years after his death, James showed up with his pregnant wife. When they heard I was gone, they fell apart.

When my father succumbed to a brutal illness, my world shattered. The day before his funeral, my fiancé abandoned me to marry his first love, which added to my grief. When I confronted him, his irritation was palpable. "Megan's dad is dying of cancer," he snapped. "His last wish is to see her get married. I did something good. Can't you see it?" That night, I called him, desperate for answers, only to hear that woman's smug voice. "Blake is in the shower. Can I help you?" I hung up without a word, my heart sinking. Later, he called back, exhausted and dismissive. "I'm swamped with wedding plans. Don't bother me with irrelevant things, okay?" Silence was my only response. I tossed the engagement ring into the trash and canceled our wedding plans, severing the ties that bound us.

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.