Eighteen Again: And He's Out

Eighteen Again: And He's Out

Gavin

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The acrid smell of smoke choked Sarah Miller, her leg a searing agony as flames licked at her home. Just moments ago, her husband, Rick, had shoved her down the stairs, breaking her leg, then watched calmly as the faulty wiring he ignored ignited their house. Trapped and engulfed by the roaring fire, Sarah screamed his name, but no answer came. He was gone, abandoning her for worthless papers, leaving her for dead in the inferno stoked by his own negligence and rage. Twenty years of selfless support, of being his scapegoat and bankroll, all culminated in this cruel, final act. The betrayal burned hotter than the flames. How could the man she sacrificed everything for simply leave her to die, blaming her even in her last moments? The injustice, the monumental waste of her life, consumed her. Her bitter last thought: "I wish I' d never met Rick Peterson. I wish I could do it all over again, without him." Then, darkness. She awoke, not in a choking inferno, but in her childhood bedroom, sunlight streaming through familiar windows. It was 1995. She was eighteen again, at the cusp of meeting the man who would ruin her. Her wish had come true. This time, things would be different. This time, Rick Peterson would feel the full force of a woman who finally chose herself.

Introduction

The acrid smell of smoke choked Sarah Miller, her leg a searing agony as flames licked at her home.

Just moments ago, her husband, Rick, had shoved her down the stairs, breaking her leg, then watched calmly as the faulty wiring he ignored ignited their house.

Trapped and engulfed by the roaring fire, Sarah screamed his name, but no answer came.

He was gone, abandoning her for worthless papers, leaving her for dead in the inferno stoked by his own negligence and rage.

Twenty years of selfless support, of being his scapegoat and bankroll, all culminated in this cruel, final act.

The betrayal burned hotter than the flames.

How could the man she sacrificed everything for simply leave her to die, blaming her even in her last moments?

The injustice, the monumental waste of her life, consumed her.

Her bitter last thought: "I wish I' d never met Rick Peterson. I wish I could do it all over again, without him."

Then, darkness.

She awoke, not in a choking inferno, but in her childhood bedroom, sunlight streaming through familiar windows.

It was 1995.

She was eighteen again, at the cusp of meeting the man who would ruin her.

Her wish had come true.

This time, things would be different.

This time, Rick Peterson would feel the full force of a woman who finally chose herself.

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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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