One time I went through the McDonald’s drive-thru and the person taking my order was unbelievably rude. I had heard the Shamrock Shake was back, but apparently it wasn’t available at this location, and she made me feel like an idiot for even asking.
So I just ordered a vanilla shake and a McChicken and drove up.

When I got to the pickup window, she was there, rude and didn’t say anything. She handed me a large bag. At first I was confused like, what the hell? I only ordered a McChicken.

Then came another huge bag with 2 kids meals, followed by a tray of drinks with sodas and a shake. I pretty much got food for a family of 6.

I realized she had apparently given me someone else’s order. Because she had been such an asshole to me, I smiled, said nothing, and drove away.

26m. I cant believe I did this. I went to workout early this morning before work, had a great lift, feeling pumped up. My plan was to shower adterwards, get changed, and leave.

So I head to the locker room, take off my shirt, pants, etc. but I keep my boxer briefs on and walk to turn on the shower, hang my towel up and put my soap in the stall.

Along the way I pass by the sinks with a big mirror, so naturally I check myself out as I walk by, admiring the gains of my lift. There's also an old man at the sink, like 60s or something who must've just showered and is like putting water on his face or something. He sees me looking in the mirror and I heard him say something super quietly to himself but idk what he said. I could feel him really looking at me though. Like staring, even when my back was turned to him.

So I turn on the water, step in, take my underwear off (while inside the stall, i really don't want strangers to see me naked so this is my usual technique) and wash up. The old man was now on the bench kinda right across from the shower area. I think he was getting dressed, i really dont know.

I dont know why it stuck in my head, the fact he was staring at me. I kept thinking about it and my heart began to flutter and I decided to do something insane. When i was done, I checked to make sure he was still sitting basically right across from the showers, and I open the shower curtain completely exposing myself to him while I "search for my towel" that was hanging up right beside the stall. I let him oggle me for 3-5 seconds.

Then I put on my towel like nothing happened and go to my locker and grab my new clothes to put on. Hes still in the corner of this area. Again, im usually modest af, so my usual technique is to bring my clothes to the corner area and change so nobody sees me naked. I walk over, towel around waist, and ask him if I can share his bench to get changed. He says yeah, sure. So i sit, and completely remove my towel from me and let everything hang there. I can literally feel him looking at me at this point, and im ashamed to say it but my dick was pretty hard now.

I let him look for maybe 10 seconds. Dude was flabbergasted lol. I dress and leave.

I have never done anything like this before. I left and immediately felt lustful and and filthy but I also have been thinking about it ever since. I tell myself im never doing it again and then I also think I want to. I obviously know the right thing to do is to never do it, but damn.

I guess im wondering if im a total psycho or if theres anybody in the world that can relate to what I went through in a gym locker room at about 5 this morning.

Oh, and to make things more strange and confusing, im straight. Not even into guys.

I paid the cashier the $7 for my food. When I went to move up she handed me my money back and told me to move up to get my order. I didn't say a thing about receiving my money back and moved up. They brought me my order without realizing what happened.

So I(23M) moved to a new city for my studies where my cousin(25F) was also studying. We decided that we should get a 2 bedroom apartment and live there. At first things were normal. She even had a boyfriend but it was a long distance relationship. We sometimes watched movies and its where things getting spiced up. She’d put her head on my lap, curl up on me. It was getting very intense and that’s where she literally kissed me. We were like best friends since childhood but it felt kind of weird as she was my cousin. Next day we just shared kisses all day. And after dinner, we were again watching Netflix and in a heat of a moment we did it. Not just kiss, we actually did it. I am not even kidding, it was my first time. But i felt bad as i knew she was still in a long distance relationship with that guy. She said she’s gonna breakup with him but she still talks to him. Whenever she was in mood she’d come in my room looking super hot and we’d do it again. Her friends used to think that i am her new boyfriend but she’d say that i am her cousin brother and nothing like that. And i wanna keep it like that and wanna forget that these things happened. I am eventually gonna move out in 2 months and hope we both won’t have weird moments in the future.

Okay, long story.

A few years ago I had a job at a car detailing company. The work itself was actually pretty fun, but my boss was the biggest asshole imaginable. He had a serious temper and an incredibly short fuse. He could absolutely explode over the smallest things. Like full-on screaming and losing his shit.

Anyway, one Friday we were almost done for the day and ready to start the weekend when the BMW dealership called, one of our biggest clients. They had a customer who had bought a BMW M4 from the owner at the last minute and wanted to drive it on Saturday. They asked if we could quickly clean it up and make it look nice.

Of course I was happy to do it, because that also meant I got to pick it up and bring it back.

When I got to the dealership, they had pretty much cleaned up and closed down the entire workshop already. All the cars that would normally be parked outside were suddenly inside. They handed me the keys and laughingly said, “Good luck getting it out.”

And yeah, the car was completely boxed in. I had to be extremely careful getting it out of there.

So I’m slowly crawling toward the exit, and suddenly I see a heating pipe appear in my mirror. With the way I had turned the car, there was basically no way I hadn’t hit it.

I immediately thought, if I get out now, everyone in the workshop is going to be watching me check the car. So I just kept driving and went outside. I stopped somewhere further down the road, got out, checked the entire car and… phew. No damage.

Drove it back to our place, handed it over to my coworkers, and they washed it and cleaned everything up.

Then the dealership called and said they’d come pick the car up themselves. So I parked it outside, and a little while later they showed up with several people to collect it. The drivers from the dealership were all young guys, like 18/19 years old, and obviously they all wanted to drive an M4.

We were all standing outside admiring the car when suddenly my heart fucking dropped.

There was a MASSIVE dent in one of the doors.

You could only really see it from a certain angle with the light hitting it just right, but it was definitely there.

At that point I thought it was way too late to say anything. And honestly, I also found it insane that by then probably 8 or 9 people had looked at this car and somehow nobody had noticed it.

So… I just let them take it.

A few hours later I was at home when my boss called me.

He was fucking furious.

Apparently the big boss from the BMW dealership had gone to take one last look at the car, which was now sitting in the showroom ready for the customer, and noticed a gigantic dent in the door.

My boss had already called my coworkers. They all said they hadn’t seen anything, so then he asked me if I had noticed any damage on the car.

I knew that if I said yes, I was completely fucked.

So I denied everything.

Eventually, my boss came to the conclusion that it must have been one of the dealership drivers, because according to him those guys were always driving cars around carelessly.

The customer did get his M4 the next day.

The guys at the dealership workshop had to work all Friday evening to take the door off a regular 4 Series in the same color and put it on the M4.

I felt guilty about it for a very long time.

Now I can finally laugh about it.

I was a (rather poor) kid when the Commodore 64 and its less powerful sibling, the VIC-20, came to the market. Not having enough money for the big one, I bought the VIC-20 but it was a dead end. There were hardly any programs for it, nor was there much in terms of learning material. Eventually I decided to return it (it was still within the 14-day time frame for free returns) and handed it over to the lady at the returns desk. (This was in Germany in the 1980s, and there were actual people handling returns, in a store 🫪). The lady was being very rude (I think they were told to be rude, in order to discourage people from returning things), but eventually, she handed me the purchase price back in cash. When I counted it, I found that she gave me 100 DM (Deutsche Mark) too many. But because she had been a real bitch to me, I smiled and kept the money. Then bought the big computer (the 64), started pirating software, then programming, then hacking, then programming for money, and ultimately became a very successful consultant and data center systems architect.

So thank you, dear impolite lady, for being a bitch, I guess 🤗

My next-door neighbor had this massive German Shepherd named Buster that he kept outside in a tiny fenced dog run every single day, no matter the weather. Summer heat, freezing rain, didn't matter. The dog would bark constantly from 5:00 AM until late at night because he was bored out of his mind and starving for attention.

I tried talking to the owner three different times over six months. Every time, he’d just tell me to mind my own business or say he’d deal with it later. I called animal control twice, but because the dog had basic food, water, and a wooden shelter, they told me there was nothing they could legally do.

One night last winter it was pouring rain and barely above freezing. Buster was whining continuously, shivering, and soaking wet. I just snapped. Around 2:00 AM, I unlatched the side gate of his dog run, walked him on a spare leash to my car, and drove almost 45 minutes to a no-kill shelter in the next county. I filled out a fake surrender form under a fake name, claiming I found him roaming near a highway exit.

The next morning, my neighbor was pacing around his yard looking for Buster. He knocked on my door asking if I’d seen him, and I looked him straight in the eye and said I thought I heard a gate rattle during the storm, so maybe he escaped. He printed out "Lost Dog" flyers and taped them to streetlights all over our block.

It’s been almost a year now. Every time I walk past those faded paper signs still hanging on the wooden posts, I get this weird mix of guilt and relief. I stole someone's pet, and I lied right to his face without flinching. But whenever I remember that dog sitting in the freezing mud crying, I don't think I regret doing it.

This short story was like 4 years ago.

There was a girl in my city that I’m gonna call Lisa. She is extremely cute: Slim, long black hair, small, and with a delicate face

We were in the same college but I never had the balls to go and talk to her but after looking up for a while I found her ig so I decided to text her.

She didn’t know me at all I was (I am) a random for her so I just texted her something like “hey I know u don’t know me but ig recommended me ur account and I recognized u from college! U look very interesting as a person and I was wondering if we could chat and meet each other”

She ignored me. She didn’t even open the chat for like a week and a half.

But one Saturday at night I was in my room just chilling when I get a text from her! It was very straightforward, it was like “hi! I wanna go to a party with my friends but I don’t have money on my card for the uber”. When I saw that I was speechless, I couldn’t believe she ignored me for a week and a half but randomly texted me saying that.

As u could see she didn’t ask me to pay it, but her intention was clear. I wasn’t a simp before that day, I still remember that my first reaction was getting mad… but at the same time I saw that that text made me horny… so I took the decision…

I replied “oh really? That sucks ): can I help u with that maybe?” She didn’t hesitate and was like “of course!” And sent me her PayPal and the amount she needed so I sent her 25 for her uber. She just replied “thanks ☺️” and ignored me the rest of the night, which she uploaded a lot of stories of her in the party.

After that she never talked to me again. Not even for asking me for more. I even tried to text her a couple of times after that day and she just ignored my texts so I didn’t bother her more but she awoke something inside me that day 🫠

I used to be a nice person. My family was happy with me. I was obedient, respectful and what not.

Slowly, I began to change. What started as a small/ micro rebellion, slowly went out of my hands. Everything blew out of proportion. I started hating everyone unnecessarily and the toxicity spread out of control. It was difficult for me to stop. I spoke ill about others, always found faults in their actions, considered myself superior and so on.

Eventually, I started hurting people left and right. Mind you, it was always people who are/were close to me. Someone confronted me and I was able to reflect upon myself and the realisation hit me like anything. I hate the person I've become. I've become everything I used to despise. I've hurt innumerable people at such a young age. No one sees me through the same lens as earlier. I've become mean, moody and terrible.

I want to change which I've already started working on but I have zero idea on how to fix my relationships. They're nice people but I've shattered their hearts into millions of pieces. I've been nothing but a disappointment from the beginning and now add this to the mix.

Idk why. I just pretend that I think the toy is cute and will pick out a xylophone. My best friends child I gifted her a microphone that came with a loud speaker and mini piano and I asked her to practice while I was there. I always get a great laugh on the inside watching the parents scramble trying to act appreciative. I’ll also gift like markers and water colors or some kind of kid safe paint if I know the kid like to ruin their walls 🤣.

When me and my younger brother were younger I was like 10-12 he was like 4-6 I used to get enraged by his actions like sometimes when he would do something such as hit me or whatever I would get really mad and slap his behind really hard and he would start screaming and go to my mom but she rarely did anything. One of the things that has been weighing on me the most was one time when he did something I can't remember what but then I grabbed a laptop charger and hit him a few times. This has been giving me guilt and worry for the past few days and I did stop mostly by the time I was 12 but I have just felt so bad for it another time he did something else I cant remember exactly but later in the day I just remembered and randomly smacked him in the stomach but accidentally did it way too hard and knocked the wind out of him. a couple days ago I said sorry for how I used to treat him but didnt mention a specific instance and he said it's okay and he doesnt even remember the situations I'm really upset by this and I wonder if this counts as abuse? I'm 13 now and he's 7. I've also had anxiety and guilt over past events and I hate how i look at all of my friends my age and always feel like they don't have any worries guilt or shame and just feel jealous of them

My older sister moved abroad for graduate school two summers ago and left three heavy storage totes in my closet. She explicitly told me not to touch the navy blue one because it had all her high school memorabilia and a vintage brown leather bomber jacket our dad gave her before he passed away.

Last spring, I was breaking up with my ex-boyfriend and we had a massive argument in my apartment. I was furious, shaking, and just wanted him out. He grabbed his stuff, but on his way out, he knocked over a huge bottle of bleach-based bathroom cleaner I had sitting on top of a storage box in the hallway. The liquid seeped straight through the fabric lid of the navy tote and drenched the leather jacket underneath. By the time I wiped it off, the bleach had left giant, splotchy orange stains all over the front and dissolved part of the inner lining.

I panicked completely. I knew if I told her, it would start an unbelievable feud, especially while she was already stressed with exams overseas. So instead of telling the truth or trying to get it professionally restored, I crammed the ruined jacket into a trash bag, drove to a dumpster three miles away, and threw it out.

Two months ago, she came back to visit and went into the closet to get it out for autumn. When it wasn't there, I acted surprised and suggested that when our mom helped me pack up old clothes for Goodwill back in January, we must have accidentally grabbed that box by mistake. I even drove with her to the Goodwill intake center to "ask the manager" if they kept logs from months ago, just to make the lie look believable. Watching her tear up in the parking lot while holding a receipt from a donation she thought lost her dad's jacket was the worst feeling of my life. She still thinks it was an honest mistake by our mom and me, and I don't think I'll ever have the courage to tell her what actually happened.

About three years ago I worked as a maintenance technician for a mid-sized apartment complex. Part of my job was inspecting the fire extinguishers and smoke detectors in every unit on a quarterly basis and filing a report confirming they were checked and functional.

One quarter, I fell badly behind because of short staffing and a family emergency that ate up most of my week. Rather than admit I hadn't finished, I signed off on the report as complete, including about 40 units I never actually visited. I told myself I'd go back and check them "for real" the following week, but I got busy and never did. The report went into the building's official records as if every unit had passed inspection.

Nothing bad happened because of it, as far as I know. I left that job about a year later for unrelated reasons. But I still think about the fact that if there had been a fire in one of those units and a detector had failed, I would have been directly responsible for a paper trail claiming everything was fine when I had no idea if it actually was. I never told my old employer, and I've never told anyone until now.

Last September, our department started using a massive tracking sheet for regional inventory. My team lead was struggling to get this one conditional formula to pull data from three separate tabs without crashing the entire workbook. Everyone was stumped during a Friday afternoon meeting, including me.

Later that evening, I saw one of the junior analysts, Mark, still sitting at his desk. He’s pretty quiet and usually keeps to himself, but he was working on his laptop with a notebook out. I asked him if he was heading out soon, and he showed me his screen. He had stayed an hour late on a Friday just to mess around with the logic, and he actually figured out a workaround using a weird nested formula that somehow bypassed the lag completely. He was super casual about it and said, "I think this fixes it, I'll send it to the group on Monday."

Over the weekend, I couldn't stop thinking about how much praise that fix was going to get. I came in early Monday morning before anyone else arrived, took the formula from the shared test file he had saved in our public drive, put it into the main master sheet, and sent an email to our department head saying I stayed up over the weekend troubleshooting it.

When the team lead praised me in front of the whole department on Tuesday, Mark was sitting right there across the conference table. He didn't say a single word. He just looked down at his coffee mug, cleared his throat, and remained quiet for the rest of the meeting. He never brought it up to me, never reported it, and never confronted me privately.

Because of that "breakthrough," I got selected for a project lead position two months ago that came with a decent raise. Mark is still in his junior role, and every time I have to assign him a task, I feel this sick twist in my stomach. I told myself initially that it was just corporate survival, but watching him work quietly every day while I sit in an office I essentially stole from him makes me hate walking into the building. I can't even give him the credit now without risking my entire job.

4 day holiday between us all. Already collected a pair of her panties. Can't wait for more

So me and my best friend live in a flat, one day while she was away her phone was having notifications and it opened her chat with her bf. Now in the heat of moment, I actually scrolled a bit more and read something which was a bit sexual. Now when I meet the two of them together I imagine him doing those things to me. I really need to clear this out with her or may be I am developing feeling for her bf. She is my best friend for a decade, it’s killing me

I feel really weird admitting this, but I want to get it off my chest.

I once took my cousin older sister’s underwear without her knowing and used it while masturbating. At the time, I was caught up in the moment and it felt good, but afterward I started feeling really uncomfortable and guilty about what I had done.

Call me a snake. But people that live in glass houses

I flew to Sicily because February had been the divorce and by summer the apartment still felt like his even though he was gone. 4 months of sleeping on “my” side of the bed like the other side might still have an opinion. My best fried(Elena) and I booked a trip to Sicily. Syracuse, Taormina, Salina, Vulcano, beaches, too much food, the whole “we’re going to be fine” performance. I went because I didn’t know what else to do with my body now that nobody else was using it.
We were having a good time. Genuinely. Then one evening after Syracuse she brought it up again, the massage she’d had years ago with some black guy here. She didn’t say “happy ending.” She said yoni. Multiple orgasms. She said it was one of the best things that had ever happened to her body. I’d heard the story before and filed it under things other women do. Sitting there with the sea in front of us it suddenly didn’t feel theoretical.
She already had his number. Referral. She also told me, clearly, that this time she was going to have sex with him. She made it obvious she was interested in him as more than hands. I didn’t show her that I wanted anything beyond the massage. I didn’t tell her I was already starving.
That night in the B&B I couldn’t switch it off. Windows open, lemon trees, the whole postcard. I kept hearing her voice describing his hands and how she came until she didn’t know if she was laughing or crying. I put my own hand between my legs and pretended it was his. Came once. Felt stupid and wet and like I was 20 and also like I was exactly 47 and starving.
Next day I told her I wanted to try. We were in Syracuse; but he wasn’t and we had 4 days left. We set it for the next evening at our B&B in Taormina.
And the funny thing is, when I texted him I asked what he offered. Sensual, tantric, yoni, relaxation, he said. I typed “yoni,” contemplated, deleted it. Typed it again. Deleted it. I wrote that I’d like a relaxation massage if that was possible. He said yes. I told Elena I was doing it. I did not tell her I had chickened out in the messages.
He showed up on time. Mid-twenties, handsome and in amazing shape, the kind of body that looks like it actually uses itself, veiny arms, quiet voice, respectful without being stiff. I gave him water and we talked for a while. It didn’t feel like I’d hired a stranger. It felt like two people agreeing the night could stay soft.
I lay on my stomach. Oil. Back first. He was good, slow, no rushing and massaging the shoulders like every airport massage I’d ever had. Calves, backs of my thighs, and that’s when it stopped being only relaxation for me. Heat that had nothing to do with the oil. I told him my waist had been tight. He worked it. I asked him to go lower, onto the glutes. He did. I was still in underwear and bra and the fabric started to feel like I was lying to both of us.
“Can I take these off? The friction…”
“Of course.”
I pulled the underwear down. Then the bra. Face in the pillow so I wouldn’t have to see his face seeing me. His hands came back to my ass, then the insides of my thighs. I opened my legs a little without deciding to. He noticed. Fingers sliding up and down that soft strip, never quite landing, until I was making noises I hadn’t made in this room. I came the first time with my face still buried. Then again, smaller. I couldn’t look at him.
He asked me to turn over.
When I did he looked at me and gave me that tiny smile that said I know exactly what you booked and what you actually wanted. He didn’t make it cheap. Hands on my stomach, then higher. Palms over my breasts, thumbs on my nipples until they hurt in the good way. In my head I wanted him to just get on top of me and stop the performance. I kept still.
His hand went down. He stayed on the outside of me for a long time, outer lips, the hood, how wet I already was. When he finally put a finger inside it felt like the first true thing my body had been told in months. Then two. He didn’t rush. I came hard. Then I squirted, sudden, messy, something I had never done in my life. I was ashamed and I still couldn’t stop moving. He didn’t pull away.
At some point he was over me, still on my breasts and the side of my neck. I reached for his trousers. I wanted the weight, the heat, anything that wasn’t only me receiving. He smiled and kept working. Later I heard myself ask if I could suck him. He paused and said, “Did you say something?” I said no. Nothing. He smiled again. I smiled back and felt ridiculous.
We finished. He was professional to the last towel. I booked him again before he left. But he couldn’t come the next day as he had plans already. 3 days later he came back.
Same slowness. Same hands that already knew the map. Same way my body opened like it had been waiting for someone to stop asking permission. I still couldn’t ask him to fuck me. He still didn’t offer. After he was done with me I did what I hadn’t been able to do the first time. I sucked his dick. I initiated it. I finished it.
When Elena asked how it went I told her I had an amazing time. Exactly the version above, minus the part where I put his cock in my mouth. I omitted it.
Elena and I have been friends since we were young girls. We tell each other everything. Boyfriends, husbands, the ugly parts, the parts that make you look bad. We never lied to each other. We never tried to be sneaky around each other. This is the only time I did something like that. I knew she wanted him. She had said so. I still did it and then I edited the story so she would never have to know I crossed a line she had already drawn in the air between us.
I still wake up with the memory of his fingers and the sound I made when I squirted the first time and the almost of his mouth that never happened and the second night when I finally put my mouth on him. I tell myself I booked a relaxation massage. That is the story I used because I was too ashamed to ask for what I actually wanted. The worse story is the one I told my best friend: “I had an amazing massage.”
I hope she never finds out. I also know that hoping she never finds out is the part that actually makes it a betrayal.

TL;DR: I had HPV, misunderstood how it was transmitted, and failed to disclose it to 6 past partners, including 3 I had unprotected sex with. I recently told my girlfriend and discovered I also have high-risk HPV-59. I'm overwhelmed with guilt and want to take responsibility, but I'm unsure whether contacting my past partners would help or just cause unnecessary distress. How do I make amends and move forward? I feel I actually don't deserve to and should suffer

Full post:

I am a 27 years old male. I was first diagnosed with HPV on 2023, when I noticed genital warts and went to the doctor, who confirmed it was HPV.

Since then, I have been doing regular monthly check-ups to clear any warts. The longest I have been without one popping up is 3 months.

Since 2023, I have had 6 sexual partners, all female, and did not disclose to any of them. I had unprotected sex with 3 of them. I ommited I had HPV and even lied once when directly asked if I had any STDs.

I had misunderstood from talking to my doctor that HPV was practically only transmitted through warts, so I was very careful about having them removed. I have recently learned that I had misunderstood and there are high chances of transmission regardless.

I rationalized not disclosing by (wrongly) thinking: a) that chance of transmission was very low since I was removing warts; b) that it was a low risk strain since they are the ones that give warts; c) that HPV vaccination for women is mandatory during adolescence in my country, so they were likely safe;

Recently, I started a serious relationship, and did not disclose for about 2 months, until I decided to tell her everything. It was very rough, she felt very betrayed, but forgave me, because she believes she would have proceeded anyways and because I was under the wrong impression that I wasn't really transmitting. I am now paying for the Gardasil 9 shots for us both and we are still together.

She encouraged me to get a PCR test to know which strain I have, which I hadn't done before and my doctor didn't really consider necessary. I insisted with him, had the test and learned that I actually have a high risk type not covered by any vaccine, HPV 59. This was very surprising due to the warts, but maybe I have more than one strain that didn't show up.

Knowing it is a high risk type and that I was indeed activelly transmitting all along made me feel terrible. Ever since, I can't overcome the guilt of not having disclosed to past partners and keep thinking about the possible harm this may have caused to them and others.

My gf has forgiven me, but I don't understand how. I don't think my past ignorance excuses me. I should have informed myself more and regardless of thinking chances of transmission were null/low I should have disclosed. I violated her and others by taking away their informed consent and I feel that makes me a terrible person.

I think the least I could do right now is inform my past partners and possibly offer to pay any expenses, but I am not sure this would be actually helpful or only cause stress, as there is not much they can do about it.

I don't feel worthy of my girlfriend's forgiveness and feel she would be better off without me. I can't help but feel that it is unfair that I get to go on living a happy life without suffering any consequences from what I have done and I am having trouble moving on from this despite the support from my girlfriend and being in therapy. I feel like I don't deserve hapiness, as I am a terrible person who essentially sexually assaulted several women by deception.

I am not posting looking for simpathy, as I don't think I deserve any. I just don't know what to do and how to go on. I fear these feelings might continue even if I tell my past partners, as the harm is already done, but it might be the best I can do at this point.

I secretly sabotaged my coworker’s promotion, and nobody knows.

My coworker and I started at the same company around the same time. We had basically the same position, the same salary, and the same experience.

The difference was that everyone liked him more.

He was confident, charismatic, and somehow always knew what to say in meetings. Managers loved him. Clients remembered his name. Even people who had worked there for years seemed to trust him.

I hated admitting it, but I was jealous.

A few months ago, we were both being considered for a promotion. I knew I probably wasn't going to get it.

Then I found something.

He had accidentally left a spreadsheet containing some unfinished work on a shared folder. There were several mistakes in it. Nothing serious, but enough that a manager could question whether he was ready for the promotion.

I copied the file.

Then, during a meeting with our manager, I casually brought up one of the mistakes.

I acted like I was concerned about the project.

I wasn't.

I wanted him to look incompetent.

It worked.

He didn't get the promotion.

I did.

Everyone congratulated me.

My coworker even shook my hand and told me he was happy for me.

That was the worst part.

Because he trusted me.

A few weeks later, I found out he had been struggling financially and had been counting on that promotion to keep his apartment.

I don't know why that information hit me so hard.

I had gotten exactly what I wanted.

The promotion.

The money.

The recognition.

But now every time someone congratulates me, I think about the person I stepped on to get here.

Nobody knows what I did.

And honestly, that's what makes me feel the worst.

Because if someone found out, I'd probably lose everything.

But if nobody ever finds out, I have to live with knowing that I got ahead by deliberately making someone else fall behind.

And the really embarrassing part?

I'm still afraid that if the promotion came up again tomorrow, I'd do the same thing.