A Bitter Pill Called Regret

A Bitter Pill Called Regret

Gavin

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My head throbbed as I cooked Marcus's favorite meal. It was our tenth anniversary, a milestone I' d hoped would bring some semblance of peace to a decade marred by his growing distance. But Marcus never came home. Instead, an Instagram notification flashed: Skyler Reed, beaming beside my husband, champagne in hand, captioned: "Celebrating new beginnings with Mr. T!" When I finally reached him, his voice was dismissive, cold: "You've let yourself go, Ellie. Skyler's a breath of fresh air." The casual cruelty was a physical blow, leaving me reeling, a sudden nosebleed staining the anniversary tablecloth I' d prepared for a dinner that would never happen. Who was this woman I had become, a ghost of my former self, constantly tired, always bleeding? Why did I allow myself to be chipped away, humiliated, while he flaunted his affair so brazenly? Then, the final, devastating cut: my only comfort, my loyal dog Gus, brutally run down after Skyler maliciously kicked him into the street. My world went black, only to be replaced by the harsh hospital lights and a grim diagnosis: glioblastoma. Marcus, now belatedly awake to his ruin, would beg me to fight. Yet, the profound irony was a bitter pill: his decade of calculated cruelty had left me with no fight left. But though I was dying, this story was far from over-just not in the way anyone expected.

Introduction

My head throbbed as I cooked Marcus's favorite meal.

It was our tenth anniversary, a milestone I' d hoped would bring some semblance of peace to a decade marred by his growing distance.

But Marcus never came home.

Instead, an Instagram notification flashed: Skyler Reed, beaming beside my husband, champagne in hand, captioned: "Celebrating new beginnings with Mr. T!"

When I finally reached him, his voice was dismissive, cold: "You've let yourself go, Ellie. Skyler's a breath of fresh air."

The casual cruelty was a physical blow, leaving me reeling, a sudden nosebleed staining the anniversary tablecloth I' d prepared for a dinner that would never happen.

Who was this woman I had become, a ghost of my former self, constantly tired, always bleeding?

Why did I allow myself to be chipped away, humiliated, while he flaunted his affair so brazenly?

Then, the final, devastating cut: my only comfort, my loyal dog Gus, brutally run down after Skyler maliciously kicked him into the street.

My world went black, only to be replaced by the harsh hospital lights and a grim diagnosis: glioblastoma.

Marcus, now belatedly awake to his ruin, would beg me to fight.

Yet, the profound irony was a bitter pill: his decade of calculated cruelty had left me with no fight left.

But though I was dying, this story was far from over-just not in the way anyone expected.

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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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