Igstories Anonymous Novels & Stories

When it's time for us to say our vows during the wedding ceremony, Jessica Fletcher, my wife, leaves the stage just so she can confess her love to her first love, Benedict Olson. "Once upon a time, we had vowed to stay together for the rest of our lives, Benedict. It's unfortunate that we've missed out on the chance to do so in this lifetime. Would you be willing to stay with me in our next life, then?" Touched, Benedict pulls Jessica into his arms. Then, he turns to tell me, "Oliver, I've already given Jess to you in this lifetime, so you must take good care of her for me." Everyone gasps in shock, thinking that they'll soon witness two men fighting over the same woman. But I merely smile at the sight of Benedict and Jessica embracing each other tightly. Then, I take off my ring before passing it to Benedict. "Why wait till your next life to be together? Since you've already made a vow to stay together for eternity, I might as well grant your wish."

On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.' I sent in my study abroad application without a word. At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection. A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married." Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too." So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared. And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me. Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red. "Amelia, come back with me. Please?"

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?"

My husband drives me out so I can meet my best friend for an afternoon tea session. That's when I discover a used condom and a stray earring wedged between the door and the front passenger seat. I'm distraught as I head to the restaurant. My best friend hugs me warmly, but the lone earring she wears pierces my heart. I don't expose them for their betrayal. Instead, I fall into bed with my husband's best friend that very night. Later, James Fullman roars and asks why I've done this to him. I smile faintly and lean into the embrace of the man beside me. "You're not the only one who can get hot and heavy in the front passenger seat, you know."

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.

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.

Even on my hundredth proposal, Isabelle Cole still turns me down. We've been together for seven years. For the previous 99 proposals, she said her childhood friend isn't married yet, and she can't bring herself to break the promise they've made. Staring at the ring in my hand, I finally can't hold it in anymore. "If Ronald never gets married, are you going to keep him company forever? What am I to you?" Isabelle's expression turns gloomy in an instant. She snatches the ring and throws it into the river. "Ron and I made a promise when we were kids that we'd get married at the same time. How can I just abandon him? "And besides, is that piece of paper really all that important, Lucas? We've been together for seven years. What difference would it even make?"

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.

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."

My parents have sued me in a court that deals with unfilial cases. If I'm proven to be guilty, I will be sentenced to ten years in jail. Meanwhile, my younger brother, Cody Briggs, and our parents will inherit all of my assets. At the same time, they will be blessed with luck and longevity. But if I'm proven to be innocent, Cody will be thrown behind bars for 100 years. Our parents will be plagued by misfortune, and they will also contract diseases. As for me, I will receive a ten-million-dollar prize, and I get to maintain my youth for eternity. My friends and relatives keep telling me to apologize to my parents, simply because they've seen the way my parents love and care for me. If there's a reason behind their misbehavior, it must be because they are suffering from pain and agony that's unknown to me. But what they don't know is that I've gotten reborn. This time, I swear that I'll reveal my parents' true colors!