The Night He Drugged My Tea

The Night He Drugged My Tea

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
629
View
11
Chapters

My husband, Ethan Cole, was New York' s legal golden boy-revered for his legal prowess and, more famously, for his legendary adoration of his wife, Sarah Miller. "My North Star" tattooed over his heart, cross-country flights for a few hours with me; I believed this perfect fairytale for years. Then, the crash. Arriving at his office to surprise him, I overheard his junior associates' crude jokes: "Boss is off to Napa with Jessica Vance for a 'client retreat'." Napa? He'd texted "Chicago deposition." My world tipped. The video landed, sent by Jessica: her, tied with Ethan' s silk tie, his face consumed by a desire I hadn't witnessed in years. It plummeted deeper. That night, he drugged my tea. Then, he brought her into our bed, right beside me, believing I was out cold. Her moans, his rough whispers, Jessica' s sweat-damp hair brushing my cheek-the ultimate, sickening violation. The man who once cooked me gourmet breakfasts became a depraved stranger, brazenly flaunting his infidelity inches from me. How could he? My reflection showed tear-streaked eyes, but pain became icy resolve. No screaming. No breakdowns. A chillingly precise plan formed. I took a burner phone, texting him-my husband, the famed attorney-as an anonymous "Ms. Evans": "My husband is cheating with his assistant. What should I do?" His reply, professional and prompt: "Secure all evidence of his infidelity. Bring it to me." So, I did. I formally retained Ethan Cole to handle my divorce. Game on.

Introduction

My husband, Ethan Cole, was New York' s legal golden boy-revered for his legal prowess and, more famously, for his legendary adoration of his wife, Sarah Miller.

"My North Star" tattooed over his heart, cross-country flights for a few hours with me; I believed this perfect fairytale for years.

Then, the crash. Arriving at his office to surprise him, I overheard his junior associates' crude jokes: "Boss is off to Napa with Jessica Vance for a 'client retreat'." Napa? He'd texted "Chicago deposition."

My world tipped.

The video landed, sent by Jessica: her, tied with Ethan' s silk tie, his face consumed by a desire I hadn't witnessed in years.

It plummeted deeper.

That night, he drugged my tea.

Then, he brought her into our bed, right beside me, believing I was out cold.

Her moans, his rough whispers, Jessica' s sweat-damp hair brushing my cheek-the ultimate, sickening violation.

The man who once cooked me gourmet breakfasts became a depraved stranger, brazenly flaunting his infidelity inches from me.

How could he?

My reflection showed tear-streaked eyes, but pain became icy resolve.

No screaming. No breakdowns.

A chillingly precise plan formed.

I took a burner phone, texting him-my husband, the famed attorney-as an anonymous "Ms. Evans": "My husband is cheating with his assistant. What should I do?"

His reply, professional and prompt: "Secure all evidence of his infidelity. Bring it to me."

So, I did.

I formally retained Ethan Cole to handle my divorce. Game on.

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

Short stories

4.7

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.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book