The CEO Who Forgot His Savior

The CEO Who Forgot His Savior

Gavin

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Seven years ago, I secretly gave Michael, my then-boyfriend, a life-saving kidney. I faked a cruel betrayal, vanishing to manage my deteriorating health and mounting medical debt, ensuring his future. Now, I watch him, a celebrated CEO, accept an award on TV. My old phone buzzes. It's him. "Seven years," he says, "you chose money over me. Any regrets?" My bitter laugh is my only reply, as I clutch my $2000 overdue dialysis bill. Weeks later, we collide at a clinic. He's vibrant, with a new fiancée, Jessica. I, frail and scarred, try to ask for a loan. His fiancée, Jessica, stages a fall, scattering my medical reports at his feet. He reads my kidney failure reports, sneering, convinced I'm faking for cash. At a gala, he forces me to chug a bottle of whiskey for thirty grand. I comply, knowing it's poison. I collapse, vomiting blood, the room erupting. Everyone sees the greedy ex getting her comeuppance. The internet savages me, labeling me a gold-digger. Yet, the vitality in his stride – that was my sacrifice. The man I saved now believes I'm faking illness, mocking my pain. As I lay dying, my best friend finally cracks, screaming the truth: "She gave you her kidney, you bastard! That anonymous donor? That was Emily!" His face, once sneering, turned to horror. But would this revelation be enough to save me, or would his ultimate atonement demand an even greater sacrifice?

Introduction

Seven years ago, I secretly gave Michael, my then-boyfriend, a life-saving kidney.

I faked a cruel betrayal, vanishing to manage my deteriorating health and mounting medical debt, ensuring his future.

Now, I watch him, a celebrated CEO, accept an award on TV.

My old phone buzzes.

It's him.

"Seven years," he says, "you chose money over me. Any regrets?"

My bitter laugh is my only reply, as I clutch my $2000 overdue dialysis bill.

Weeks later, we collide at a clinic.

He's vibrant, with a new fiancée, Jessica.

I, frail and scarred, try to ask for a loan.

His fiancée, Jessica, stages a fall, scattering my medical reports at his feet.

He reads my kidney failure reports, sneering, convinced I'm faking for cash.

At a gala, he forces me to chug a bottle of whiskey for thirty grand.

I comply, knowing it's poison.

I collapse, vomiting blood, the room erupting.

Everyone sees the greedy ex getting her comeuppance.

The internet savages me, labeling me a gold-digger.

Yet, the vitality in his stride – that was my sacrifice.

The man I saved now believes I'm faking illness, mocking my pain.

As I lay dying, my best friend finally cracks, screaming the truth: "She gave you her kidney, you bastard! That anonymous donor? That was Emily!"

His face, once sneering, turned to horror.

But would this revelation be enough to save me, or would his ultimate atonement demand an even greater sacrifice?

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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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