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The Divorce That Set Her Free

The Divorce That Set Her Free

Gavin

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The divorce papers lay on our dining table, stark white against the mahogany. My husband, Ethan, placed them there, his voice smooth, asking for three days. Just three days, he said, for his college ex-girlfriend, Chloe. Chloe, who he swore was a ghost from his past, was now supposedly dying of a rare, aggressive cancer. Her last wish? To marry him. And for those three days, he needed me to "not remember." He pointed to a sterile vial in his hand – Compound M-7, my creation, a memory drug I' d developed. He wanted me, his wife, Dr. Evelyn Hayes, a neuroscientist, to erase myself so he could play husband to another woman. He called it "temporary amnesia," believing there was an antidote. The audacity of his request, born from convenience and a shocking lack of loyalty, shattered everything I thought we had. He didn't know M-7 was irreversible. My secret. My burden. This wasn' t just about a weekend; it was his willingness to sacrifice me, to wipe me from his life for a dying wish he' d barely questioned. How could he ask this of me? But now, seeing his betrayal so clearly, I saw M-7 not as a tool for his deceit, but as my escape. I nodded slowly, my voice steady, whispering, "Temporary." A lie. The biggest I' d ever told him. Because he thought he was borrowing my memory, he was actually handing me my true, permanent freedom.

Introduction

The divorce papers lay on our dining table, stark white against the mahogany.

My husband, Ethan, placed them there, his voice smooth, asking for three days.

Just three days, he said, for his college ex-girlfriend, Chloe.

Chloe, who he swore was a ghost from his past, was now supposedly dying of a rare, aggressive cancer.

Her last wish? To marry him.

And for those three days, he needed me to "not remember."

He pointed to a sterile vial in his hand – Compound M-7, my creation, a memory drug I' d developed.

He wanted me, his wife, Dr. Evelyn Hayes, a neuroscientist, to erase myself so he could play husband to another woman.

He called it "temporary amnesia," believing there was an antidote.

The audacity of his request, born from convenience and a shocking lack of loyalty, shattered everything I thought we had.

He didn't know M-7 was irreversible.

My secret. My burden.

This wasn' t just about a weekend; it was his willingness to sacrifice me, to wipe me from his life for a dying wish he' d barely questioned.

How could he ask this of me?

But now, seeing his betrayal so clearly, I saw M-7 not as a tool for his deceit, but as my escape.

I nodded slowly, my voice steady, whispering, "Temporary."

A lie.

The biggest I' d ever told him.

Because he thought he was borrowing my memory, he was actually handing me my true, permanent freedom.

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The Woman They Thought Was Dead

The Woman They Thought Was Dead

Short stories

5.0

I woke with the violent jolt of the plane landing, but it wasn't the impact that shocked me deeply; it was the chilling, immediate memory of icy black water filling my lungs as an anchor dragged me down. My husband, Captain Mark Vance, watched from the boat with eyes as blank as a winter sky-the last sight before my first life ended ten years ago. Miraculously, incomprehensibly, I was alive, but the life I' d returned to was a meticulously crafted lie built on my erased existence. My husband and best friend, Ashley Barnes, had stolen my identity, swindled my parents, and even sent my brilliant young daughter, Chloe, to a brutal camp, twisting her trauma into a story of her mother's "psychotic break." Now, they flaunted a lavish life built on my ruin, with my very own child reduced to a bruised, silent servant in her own home, while guests used my family heirlooms for cheap hors d'oeuvres. The betrayal was a deep, burning wound, but the sight of Chloe' s thin, bruised arms ignited a pure, glacial rage within me, a fury that promised a reckoning far colder than any Alaskan winter. How could they stand so proudly, so shamelessly, after committing such unspeakable atrocities against me and my child? This was no longer a scientist returning home; it was a ghost resurrected, armored by ten years of accumulated savings and a thirst for justice. I walked into their opulent party, not for revenge, but to reclaim what was mine, armed with the truth and a fury that would shatter their carefully constructed world. Tonight, the perfect facade they' d built would be exposed, and they would finally face the woman they thought they' d killed.

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