The Hundredth Rejection

The Hundredth Rejection

Gavin

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For seven long years, I'd been trapped in a rigged game, playing an ER nurse in Chicago. My mission was simple: get the hospital's wealthy benefactor, Julian Vance, to romantically reject me 100 times. The prize? My real life back in Montana, a massive payout, and a unique gift. I was so close, just two rejections away. For rejection ninety-nine, I pitched the ultimate absurd proposal: marriage, but only if I survived a risky medical mission. He always said no. But this time, Julian Vance, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable, looked me dead in the eye and said, "Alright. Seriously." My carefully constructed world imploded. My "game" was utterly derailed. Every desperate attempt to provoke a rejection only made him agree, sometimes even openly. Then the Vance Tower collapsed. I was trapped, severely injured, calling for help amidst the chaos. My comm crackled, Julian finally picking up. Relief flooded me until I heard his voice, sharp and impatient: "Ava, I'm dealing with Chloe's trauma right now. This isn't the time for your dramatics." He hung up, prioritizing his ex-fiancée's fake injuries over my life. The universe twisted. That dismissive click became my one hundredth rejection. My mission was complete. I died in that crumbling building, only to reawaken in Montana, rich and gifted. But the question remained: had I truly won, or merely traded one prison for another, haunted by the man I' d been forced to break?

Introduction

For seven long years, I'd been trapped in a rigged game, playing an ER nurse in Chicago. My mission was simple: get the hospital's wealthy benefactor, Julian Vance, to romantically reject me 100 times. The prize? My real life back in Montana, a massive payout, and a unique gift. I was so close, just two rejections away.

For rejection ninety-nine, I pitched the ultimate absurd proposal: marriage, but only if I survived a risky medical mission. He always said no. But this time, Julian Vance, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable, looked me dead in the eye and said, "Alright. Seriously." My carefully constructed world imploded.

My "game" was utterly derailed. Every desperate attempt to provoke a rejection only made him agree, sometimes even openly. Then the Vance Tower collapsed. I was trapped, severely injured, calling for help amidst the chaos.

My comm crackled, Julian finally picking up. Relief flooded me until I heard his voice, sharp and impatient: "Ava, I'm dealing with Chloe's trauma right now. This isn't the time for your dramatics." He hung up, prioritizing his ex-fiancée's fake injuries over my life. The universe twisted.

That dismissive click became my one hundredth rejection. My mission was complete. I died in that crumbling building, only to reawaken in Montana, rich and gifted. But the question remained: had I truly won, or merely traded one prison for another, haunted by the man I' d been forced to break?

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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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