The Ghost He Couldn't See

The Ghost He Couldn't See

Gavin

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Ethan and I were a medical power couple, brilliant doctors at Mount Sinai West, building a life, a future. My world, however, shattered in a horrific car crash. My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and though my words were clear enough to convey a severe neurological emergency, the man I loved, Dr. Ethan Hayes, rushed past my trauma bay. He called me "dramatic," dismissing my critical state to focus on his stepsister, Brooke, who he believed had a 'shattered leg.' I watched, a helpless ghost, as my body flatlined, the monitor's unbroken tone signaling my death. He still didn't know, too preoccupied with fixing Brooke's "injuries," too blind to her manipulative tears and lies about the accident. The betrayal was colder than death itself. Five years, a future planned, all discarded for a carefully crafted pretense. My heart, or what was left of it, ached with an unbearable truth. The true horror, the one that would forever define his torment, was a secret I carried even into the afterlife: I was pregnant. With our child. The baby he unknowingly condemned with his catastrophic medical negligence. His world was about to unravel – spectacularly, brutally. And I, his silent, invisible companion, would be tethered to him, watching every agonizing moment as his brilliant career, his sanity, and his very soul disintegrated.

Introduction

Ethan and I were a medical power couple, brilliant doctors at Mount Sinai West, building a life, a future.

My world, however, shattered in a horrific car crash.

My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and though my words were clear enough to convey a severe neurological emergency, the man I loved, Dr. Ethan Hayes, rushed past my trauma bay.

He called me "dramatic," dismissing my critical state to focus on his stepsister, Brooke, who he believed had a 'shattered leg.'

I watched, a helpless ghost, as my body flatlined, the monitor's unbroken tone signaling my death.

He still didn't know, too preoccupied with fixing Brooke's "injuries," too blind to her manipulative tears and lies about the accident.

The betrayal was colder than death itself.

Five years, a future planned, all discarded for a carefully crafted pretense.

My heart, or what was left of it, ached with an unbearable truth.

The true horror, the one that would forever define his torment, was a secret I carried even into the afterlife: I was pregnant.

With our child.

The baby he unknowingly condemned with his catastrophic medical negligence.

His world was about to unravel – spectacularly, brutally.

And I, his silent, invisible companion, would be tethered to him, watching every agonizing moment as his brilliant career, his sanity, and his very soul disintegrated.

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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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