Eight Years To Forever

Eight Years To Forever

Gavin

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I, Ava Miller, an architect, spent eight years with Ethan Hayes, though our shared life felt built on shifting sand. He constantly chipped at my confidence, yet I clung to the hope of 'us'. At a New York charity auction, Ethan bought my grandmother's unique sapphire pendant. My stomach plummeted as he publicly presented "my" heirloom to his young intern, Chloe Vance, then whispered, I'd get "something new." His words were a gut punch. A video soon showed him boasting he'd propose to Chloe. He did, at a party, using my sapphire, crudely reset, branding me "strong" while asserting Chloe "needed him." Post-confrontation, he replaced the damaged stone with a worthless glass replica, convinced I wouldn't notice. His manipulations peaked when he dragged me into Chloe's staged suicide attempt at the ER, ditching me bleeding to chase her drama while caught with her lipstick on his face. Eight years of my life, systematically cheapened and discarded for his brazen, theatrical lies. The audacity, the disgusting manipulation, his absolute lack of remorse – it was suffocating. How had I been so blind? But the script truly flipped. Abandoned again at the ER, one name cut through the noise: Julian Thorne. The man who, years ago, unexpectedly offered, "Ditch the zero. Marry me." My shaking hand steadied as I called. "Is that offer still on the table?" I whispered. A liberating breath. "Okay. Yes." San Francisco was my final destination. I was coming.

Introduction

I, Ava Miller, an architect, spent eight years with Ethan Hayes, though our shared life felt built on shifting sand. He constantly chipped at my confidence, yet I clung to the hope of 'us'.

At a New York charity auction, Ethan bought my grandmother's unique sapphire pendant. My stomach plummeted as he publicly presented "my" heirloom to his young intern, Chloe Vance, then whispered, I'd get "something new."

His words were a gut punch. A video soon showed him boasting he'd propose to Chloe. He did, at a party, using my sapphire, crudely reset, branding me "strong" while asserting Chloe "needed him." Post-confrontation, he replaced the damaged stone with a worthless glass replica, convinced I wouldn't notice. His manipulations peaked when he dragged me into Chloe's staged suicide attempt at the ER, ditching me bleeding to chase her drama while caught with her lipstick on his face.

Eight years of my life, systematically cheapened and discarded for his brazen, theatrical lies. The audacity, the disgusting manipulation, his absolute lack of remorse – it was suffocating. How had I been so blind?

But the script truly flipped. Abandoned again at the ER, one name cut through the noise: Julian Thorne. The man who, years ago, unexpectedly offered, "Ditch the zero. Marry me." My shaking hand steadied as I called. "Is that offer still on the table?" I whispered. A liberating breath. "Okay. Yes." San Francisco was my final destination. I was coming.

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