When Love Became A Larceny

When Love Became A Larceny

Gavin

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My tech company was at its peak – celebrated, successful. For twenty years, I believed my marriage to Bella was just the same: perfect. We had two sons, Mark and Alex, my pride and joy, the heirs to everything I had built. Then, at fifty, Bella lay dying in a sterile hospital bed. Her rasping voice delivered the blow that pulverized my world: "Ethan," she whispered, "the boys... they' re not yours. They' re Ryan' s." My heart squeezed, then shattered. My own sons, whom I loved more than life, turned on me instantly, their eyes cold and calculating. They saw Ryan, their biological father, not as a long-lost parent, but as a direct route to my wealth, reducing me to nothing but a disposable obstacle. In the brutal inheritance struggle that followed, the very boys I' d raised beat me to death. I gasped for air, my heart giving out under the crushing weight of their betrayal, my world built on a twenty-year lie crumbling to dust. How could I have been so utterly blind? My final thought was of profound regret, a desperate, yearning wish for another chance to live life differently, to choose another path. Then, darkness. But instead of an afterlife, I jolted awake, alive, younger, surrounded by the pulsing chaos of an SXSW party. Standing before me, vibrant and deceptively innocent, was Bella, dropping to one knee, a champagne flute raised, asking me to marry her. This was my impossible second chance. And this time, with the bitter truth of twenty years flooding my mind, I knew exactly what to say.

Introduction

My tech company was at its peak – celebrated, successful. For twenty years, I believed my marriage to Bella was just the same: perfect.

We had two sons, Mark and Alex, my pride and joy, the heirs to everything I had built.

Then, at fifty, Bella lay dying in a sterile hospital bed.

Her rasping voice delivered the blow that pulverized my world: "Ethan," she whispered, "the boys... they' re not yours. They' re Ryan' s."

My heart squeezed, then shattered.

My own sons, whom I loved more than life, turned on me instantly, their eyes cold and calculating.

They saw Ryan, their biological father, not as a long-lost parent, but as a direct route to my wealth, reducing me to nothing but a disposable obstacle.

In the brutal inheritance struggle that followed, the very boys I' d raised beat me to death. I gasped for air, my heart giving out under the crushing weight of their betrayal, my world built on a twenty-year lie crumbling to dust.

How could I have been so utterly blind? My final thought was of profound regret, a desperate, yearning wish for another chance to live life differently, to choose another path.

Then, darkness. But instead of an afterlife, I jolted awake, alive, younger, surrounded by the pulsing chaos of an SXSW party.

Standing before me, vibrant and deceptively innocent, was Bella, dropping to one knee, a champagne flute raised, asking me to marry her.

This was my impossible second chance. And this time, with the bitter truth of twenty years flooding my mind, I knew exactly what to say.

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When Love Turns to Ash

Short stories

4.2

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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