The Day I Sold My Husband

The Day I Sold My Husband

Gavin

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My husband, Captain Mark Olsen, just returned from deployment, his uniform sharp, his smile fake. I looked at him and said, flatly, "We need to separate." It was the only way to escape the nightmare that haunted me. My five-year-old son, Leo, dead. Because of Mark. Because of his sister-in-law, Jessica. That future, that premonition, could not happen. Mark poured all our money into Jessica's lavish spending, while our own son, Leo, wore hand-me-downs. He'd promise Leo the world, then cancel for Jessica's 'emergencies.' The final straw: Leo burnt with fever, but Mark raced off to tend to Jessica's perfectly healthy daughter. My son lay dying, just like in the terrifying vision, while Mark, a military hero to others, coldly dismissed my screams. How could a father abandon his own flesh and blood for a woman who manipulated his every move? The injustice, the rage, burned a hole inside me. But then, Jessica, emboldened, asked Mark to father *her* next child. She wasn't just taking my husband's money; she wanted his legacy. I saw my opportunity, a twisted, desperate path to freedom. I wouldn't just leave. I would sell him. For a cold, hard sum, I would hand over my husband, giving Jessica what she desired and freeing myself and Leo forever. This was my vow. My future, and my son's, depended on it.

Introduction

My husband, Captain Mark Olsen, just returned from deployment, his uniform sharp, his smile fake.

I looked at him and said, flatly, "We need to separate."

It was the only way to escape the nightmare that haunted me.

My five-year-old son, Leo, dead.

Because of Mark.

Because of his sister-in-law, Jessica.

That future, that premonition, could not happen.

Mark poured all our money into Jessica's lavish spending, while our own son, Leo, wore hand-me-downs.

He'd promise Leo the world, then cancel for Jessica's 'emergencies.'

The final straw: Leo burnt with fever, but Mark raced off to tend to Jessica's perfectly healthy daughter.

My son lay dying, just like in the terrifying vision, while Mark, a military hero to others, coldly dismissed my screams.

How could a father abandon his own flesh and blood for a woman who manipulated his every move?

The injustice, the rage, burned a hole inside me.

But then, Jessica, emboldened, asked Mark to father *her* next child.

She wasn't just taking my husband's money; she wanted his legacy.

I saw my opportunity, a twisted, desperate path to freedom.

I wouldn't just leave.

I would sell him.

For a cold, hard sum, I would hand over my husband, giving Jessica what she desired and freeing myself and Leo forever.

This was my vow.

My future, and my son's, depended on it.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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