Borrowed Time, Stolen Life

Borrowed Time, Stolen Life

Gavin

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I gave my best friend, Julian, one of my kidneys. It was a simple decision; he was family. Later, when my father fell ill, needing a transplant, I offered my remaining kidney, willing to risk my own life for him. But then Chloe, my fiancée, abandoned me. A week later, her Instagram was flooded with pictures: happy, healthy Julian, and my Chloe, married, on lavish vacations. I was left with a dying father and crippling debt. That' s when Vicky Hayes, a childhood friend from a powerful healthcare family, appeared, promising salvation. She covered all the medical bills, became my rock, and eventually, my wife. Yet, my father died after the operation, and I was left with an artificial kidney, a constant reminder of my sacrifice. Six years of agony, six years of marriage, and I stumbled upon a conversation that shattered my world. My father never received that kidney. Julian didn't even critically need it. Vicky, my wife, had orchestrated everything, a monstrous lie built on my life and my father's death. She chose Julian over everything, over us. The woman I loved, who saved me, stood revealed as the architect of my deepest pain. Every day of agony, every loss, was her design. How could I have been so blind? My world spun, my blood ran cold, but a chilling clarity descended. This wasn't just betrayal; this was a calculated destruction. I grabbed my phone, pressed record, and began to plan.

Introduction

I gave my best friend, Julian, one of my kidneys.

It was a simple decision; he was family.

Later, when my father fell ill, needing a transplant, I offered my remaining kidney, willing to risk my own life for him.

But then Chloe, my fiancée, abandoned me.

A week later, her Instagram was flooded with pictures: happy, healthy Julian, and my Chloe, married, on lavish vacations.

I was left with a dying father and crippling debt.

That' s when Vicky Hayes, a childhood friend from a powerful healthcare family, appeared, promising salvation.

She covered all the medical bills, became my rock, and eventually, my wife.

Yet, my father died after the operation, and I was left with an artificial kidney, a constant reminder of my sacrifice.

Six years of agony, six years of marriage, and I stumbled upon a conversation that shattered my world.

My father never received that kidney.

Julian didn't even critically need it.

Vicky, my wife, had orchestrated everything, a monstrous lie built on my life and my father's death.

She chose Julian over everything, over us.

The woman I loved, who saved me, stood revealed as the architect of my deepest pain.

Every day of agony, every loss, was her design.

How could I have been so blind?

My world spun, my blood ran cold, but a chilling clarity descended.

This wasn't just betrayal; this was a calculated destruction.

I grabbed my phone, pressed record, and began to plan.

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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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