Too Late for Apologies

Too Late for Apologies

Gavin

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For nearly a decade, I walked through life as Mrs. Hamilton, wife to the charming and successful Ethan. Our perfect marriage was more than a facade; it was my very existence, bound by a secret Soul Pact that determined whether I lived or died. Then, seven days before my designated survival deadline, Ethan casually dropped a bombshell: he needed a temporary divorce for his latest fling, a demanding young intern named Chloe. He offered me designer bags and an unlimited credit card, oblivious that he was asking me to sign my own death warrant, effectively sealing my fate. Chloe, triumphant and venomous, reveled in my humiliation from my very own penthouse, mocking me as "old news" while lounging in my favorite spots. Ethan, valuing his mistress's fleeting whims over my life, eagerly discarded our shared history and sent me away. The chilling countdown from the Soul Pact System inside me confirmed my imminent end-a meticulously "staged accident" awaited. How could someone mistake my life for a casual game, oblivious that his "temporary break" was my permanent end? My heart ached with the profound loneliness of carrying this fatal secret alone, a cruel irony after years of quiet endurance. I died in a fiery crash, right on schedule. But then, a cold, digital voice whispered, "System error. Collect 100 Regret Points from Ethan to be reborn." Now, an unseen spectator, my very existence hinges on the depth of his sorrow.

Introduction

For nearly a decade, I walked through life as Mrs. Hamilton, wife to the charming and successful Ethan.

Our perfect marriage was more than a facade; it was my very existence, bound by a secret Soul Pact that determined whether I lived or died.

Then, seven days before my designated survival deadline, Ethan casually dropped a bombshell: he needed a temporary divorce for his latest fling, a demanding young intern named Chloe.

He offered me designer bags and an unlimited credit card, oblivious that he was asking me to sign my own death warrant, effectively sealing my fate.

Chloe, triumphant and venomous, reveled in my humiliation from my very own penthouse, mocking me as "old news" while lounging in my favorite spots.

Ethan, valuing his mistress's fleeting whims over my life, eagerly discarded our shared history and sent me away.

The chilling countdown from the Soul Pact System inside me confirmed my imminent end-a meticulously "staged accident" awaited.

How could someone mistake my life for a casual game, oblivious that his "temporary break" was my permanent end?

My heart ached with the profound loneliness of carrying this fatal secret alone, a cruel irony after years of quiet endurance.

I died in a fiery crash, right on schedule.

But then, a cold, digital voice whispered, "System error. Collect 100 Regret Points from Ethan to be reborn."

Now, an unseen spectator, my very existence hinges on the depth of his sorrow.

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When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

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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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