My Fiancé, My Murderer

Name: My Fiancé, My Murderer
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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The Greyhound bus hummed, a low rumble promising a new life at the Boeing apprenticeship program, far from this dead-end town. My fiancé, Jake, stood blocking the bus depot doorway, radiating control, scanning the street for Brittany Smith. But this wasn't the first time I'd lived this moment; in my last life, Jake's hands had closed around my throat on our wedding night, his eyes blazing, blaming me for Brittany's tragic end. Now, I was back at the same bus stop, and he was once again holding everyone's acceptance letters and bus tickets hostage, waiting for her, wielding a Zippo as a silent threat. He reveled in his power, convinced his County Commissioner father's influence was an impenetrable shield, openly mocking our desperate hope to escape this town. The chilling truth hit me like a physical blow: Jake was reborn too, seemingly to ensure Brittany's success this time, but embodying a far more calculated cruelty. Why was fate so twisted, bringing me back to this precise, suffocating moment of manipulation, when the memory of my horrific death still burned? This time, I let my hand fall from his arm, a silent promise to myself that my feigned compliance was a trap he'd never see coming. Because this time, I was playing a different game, armed with the precise knowledge to expose his family's corruption and Brittany's lies, ensuring their carefully constructed dreams would spectacularly collapse.

Modern Badboy Revenge Divorce Personal growth

Chapter 10

06-21 13:57

Introduction

The Greyhound bus hummed, a low rumble promising a new life at the Boeing apprenticeship program, far from this dead-end town.

My fiancé, Jake, stood blocking the bus depot doorway, radiating control, scanning the street for Brittany Smith.

But this wasn't the first time I'd lived this moment; in my last life, Jake's hands had closed around my throat on our wedding night, his eyes blazing, blaming me for Brittany's tragic end.

Now, I was back at the same bus stop, and he was once again holding everyone's acceptance letters and bus tickets hostage, waiting for her, wielding a Zippo as a silent threat.

He reveled in his power, convinced his County Commissioner father's influence was an impenetrable shield, openly mocking our desperate hope to escape this town.

The chilling truth hit me like a physical blow: Jake was reborn too, seemingly to ensure Brittany's success this time, but embodying a far more calculated cruelty.

Why was fate so twisted, bringing me back to this precise, suffocating moment of manipulation, when the memory of my horrific death still burned?

This time, I let my hand fall from his arm, a silent promise to myself that my feigned compliance was a trap he'd never see coming.

Because this time, I was playing a different game, armed with the precise knowledge to expose his family's corruption and Brittany's lies, ensuring their carefully constructed dreams would spectacularly collapse.