The Diary Scam

My name is Gloria Clark, and I've been with Gene River for two years. That evening, we were at our usual Western restaurant, warm yellow light spilling over his face. I thought I was finally going to hear the proposal I'd been waiting for. But Gene put down his knife and fork, his eyes filled with a seriousness I couldn't quite read. He said, "Gloria Clark, do you want to marry me?" My heart instantly sped up, and I nodded hard, my voice trembling a little, "Yes, of course I do." Then he added, "Do me a favor—write three hundred and sixty s*x diaries about your s*xual thoughts, one a day." "Once you've finished, I'll take you to meet my parents and proudly marry you." I was stunned, almost losing my grip on the glass in my hand. Thoughts on s*x? Something so deeply personal—how could I possibly write that down? I frowned and asked him, "Gene River, is this... is this really appropriate? It's way too private." He held my hand, but the warmth of his fingertips didn't feel comforting. He said, "We're a couple, what's there that we can't share?" "This is just our little secret. Once I'm done writing, I'll keep it safe, and no one else will ever see it. Let's just treat it as a testimony to our love, okay?" I looked into his eyes for sincerity, thought about our two years together, and my hope for marriage—and in the end, I nodded. From that day on, I started writing those diaries. Each entry captured my most private feelings, carefully worded, then locked away in my desk drawer, with only Gene River and me holding the key. Gene River would occasionally ask how many entries I'd written and flip through a few pages; every time, he praised how detailed my writing was, saying that as soon as I finished, we'd start preparing the wedding. I was lost in the joy of our upcoming wedding, completely unaware of the occasional flicker of calculation in his eyes. Three hundred and sixty days passed quickly, and I handed the thick diary to Gene River, my heart full of hope. But after he took the diary, he didn't mention marriage at all. Instead, he said there was an urgent matter at work and that he had to go abroad on a business trip for a few days. I didn't think much of it and even reminded him to stay safe and come back soon. A week after Gene River left, I was scrolling through social media as usual when a trending topic suddenly popped up — "Anonymous author publishes private diary with shocking content." I wasn't interested at first, but then in the comments, someone mentioned some details from the book, and those details matched exactly what I had written in my diary. My heart sank, and my hands and feet went ice cold. I immediately searched online for information about the book. The title was Whispers in the Night, the author listed as "Anonymous," but the publisher was a small yet well-known foreign firm. I had a friend buy this book for me, and when I flipped open the first page, the content made my head swim. These are exactly the diaries I wrote! Gene River actually published my private diaries! In just a few days, this book caused a huge stir both here and abroad because the content was so intimate and explicit; people online started frantically guessing who the author was. Some folks have uncovered clues—although no one has named me outright, the hints pointing to me keep piling up. My life's completely turned upside down. When I step outside, people openly stare and whisper, and my coworkers look at me with these weird, judgmental eyes. The boss called me in and said that because of my "negative image" affecting the company's reputation, I was being suspended and told to stay home for now. I locked myself in my room, tears streaming uncontrollably. I couldn't understand why Gene River would treat me like this. I called him, but he didn't answer. I sent him messages, but he didn't reply.