A Second Chance, A True Love's Kiss

A Second Chance, A True Love's Kiss

Gavin

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The Montauk Highway rain slammed against our windshield, just like my stomach cramped with familiar, sharp pain. Marcus drove, his knuckles white, until his phone flashed 'Izzy.' My husband, always her loyal puppy, was gone in a flash. "Ellie, call an Uber. Izzy needs me," he' d declared, abandoning me sick and alone on that dark road. It was the ninth time Marcus chose his ex-girlfriend over me, his wife. The 'ninth goodbye' in a cruel bet Izzy orchestrated years ago: "Nine times, Ellie. Nine. Then you walk away." Each incident a deeper cut: my anniversary dinner, my emergency surgery, my grandmother' s memorial. I was just his convenient rebound, his 'consolation prize,' a pawn in their twisted game. Days later, after an elevator accident left me shattered and hospitalized, Marcus cradled Izzy, his terror only for her. I finally saw it with chilling clarity: he never truly loved me. My marriage was a meticulously crafted lie, orchestrated by Izzy from college. My love for him, that foolish, stubborn hope, was finally drained, leaving only an aching void. But the game was over. I had already signed the divorce papers he carelessly overlooked, ready for my freedom. When Izzy later set a vicious trap to publicly shame me, accusing me of assault, a mysterious stranger stepped in, changing everything. This was the end of a nightmare, and the beginning of my true life.

Introduction

The Montauk Highway rain slammed against our windshield, just like my stomach cramped with familiar, sharp pain.

Marcus drove, his knuckles white, until his phone flashed 'Izzy.'

My husband, always her loyal puppy, was gone in a flash.

"Ellie, call an Uber. Izzy needs me," he' d declared, abandoning me sick and alone on that dark road.

It was the ninth time Marcus chose his ex-girlfriend over me, his wife.

The 'ninth goodbye' in a cruel bet Izzy orchestrated years ago: "Nine times, Ellie. Nine. Then you walk away."

Each incident a deeper cut: my anniversary dinner, my emergency surgery, my grandmother' s memorial.

I was just his convenient rebound, his 'consolation prize,' a pawn in their twisted game.

Days later, after an elevator accident left me shattered and hospitalized, Marcus cradled Izzy, his terror only for her.

I finally saw it with chilling clarity: he never truly loved me.

My marriage was a meticulously crafted lie, orchestrated by Izzy from college.

My love for him, that foolish, stubborn hope, was finally drained, leaving only an aching void.

But the game was over.

I had already signed the divorce papers he carelessly overlooked, ready for my freedom.

When Izzy later set a vicious trap to publicly shame me, accusing me of assault, a mysterious stranger stepped in, changing everything.

This was the end of a nightmare, and the beginning of my true life.

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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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