The Blue Dress Revenge

The Blue Dress Revenge

Gavin

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I stood at the Sterling Family Foundation Gala, a silent accessory in my forget-me-not blue dress, trying to blend into the marble. My heart sank as Julian, his handsome face tight with disapproval, approached, his mother Mrs. Sterling gliding coldly beside him. "Clara," he cut through the polite chatter, "What did I tell you about that color?" Then Chloe appeared, a younger, brighter version of Seraphina, and Julian's gaze softened instantly. He sneered, "This dress, Clara, is an embarrassment. You look like you' re trying too hard to be someone you' re not." My cheeks burned. Chloe' s smile didn' t reach her eyes, clearly enjoying my humiliation. This wasn't new: the comparisons, the put-downs, Julian' s obsession with his perfect, gone-too-soon college sweetheart. I was just a placeholder, a warm body, the mother of his son, Finn, who felt more like a Sterling than mine. Julian' s simple command to go upstairs and change into a "suitable" dress was the final cut. For years, I' d been quiet, submissive, taught by foster care to be small. Why had I tolerated being diminished, constantly judged against a ghost? But something inside me, a tiny, resilient seed, finally cracked open. I wouldn't go upstairs. I would leave.

Introduction

I stood at the Sterling Family Foundation Gala, a silent accessory in my forget-me-not blue dress, trying to blend into the marble.

My heart sank as Julian, his handsome face tight with disapproval, approached, his mother Mrs. Sterling gliding coldly beside him.

"Clara," he cut through the polite chatter, "What did I tell you about that color?"

Then Chloe appeared, a younger, brighter version of Seraphina, and Julian's gaze softened instantly.

He sneered, "This dress, Clara, is an embarrassment. You look like you' re trying too hard to be someone you' re not."

My cheeks burned.

Chloe' s smile didn' t reach her eyes, clearly enjoying my humiliation.

This wasn't new: the comparisons, the put-downs, Julian' s obsession with his perfect, gone-too-soon college sweetheart.

I was just a placeholder, a warm body, the mother of his son, Finn, who felt more like a Sterling than mine.

Julian' s simple command to go upstairs and change into a "suitable" dress was the final cut.

For years, I' d been quiet, submissive, taught by foster care to be small.

Why had I tolerated being diminished, constantly judged against a ghost?

But something inside me, a tiny, resilient seed, finally cracked open.

I wouldn't go upstairs.

I would leave.

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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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