His Regret, Her Revolution

His Regret, Her Revolution

Gavin

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I gave him seven years. Seven years of unwavering support, sacrificing my Georgetown scholarship and a promising career to stand by Carter's side. But at Thanksgiving dinner, while his mother gifted his "friend" Sofia a vintage Chanel bag, my reward was a $20 Starbucks gift card. Then, Sofia moved in, and Carter gave her our master bedroom, relegating me to a cramped guest room. My shock turned to horror when Sofia, fully aware of my life-threatening nut allergy, served me pesto pasta, and Carter forced me to eat it. As I gasped for air, he sneered, "Drama, all for attention." He defended her, even after she gleefully destroyed my deceased grandmother's locket. He then accused me of being violent and crazy, kicking me out of my own home. How could the man I loved for seven years betray me so shamelessly, side with a clear manipulator, and dismiss my suffering as an act? Was I truly just a placeholder, a temporary distraction until his "true love" returned from Europe? The pain wasn't just heartbreak; it was a profound injustice. I wouldn't just disappear. Armed with clarity and a quiet fury, I walked away, not to mourn, but to reclaim the ambitious woman he tried to erase. And when he inevitably came crawling back, offering millions to buy my forgiveness, he'd learn that some things, once broken, can never be bought back.

Introduction

I gave him seven years.

Seven years of unwavering support, sacrificing my Georgetown scholarship and a promising career to stand by Carter's side.

But at Thanksgiving dinner, while his mother gifted his "friend" Sofia a vintage Chanel bag, my reward was a $20 Starbucks gift card.

Then, Sofia moved in, and Carter gave her our master bedroom, relegating me to a cramped guest room.

My shock turned to horror when Sofia, fully aware of my life-threatening nut allergy, served me pesto pasta, and Carter forced me to eat it.

As I gasped for air, he sneered, "Drama, all for attention."

He defended her, even after she gleefully destroyed my deceased grandmother's locket.

He then accused me of being violent and crazy, kicking me out of my own home.

How could the man I loved for seven years betray me so shamelessly, side with a clear manipulator, and dismiss my suffering as an act?

Was I truly just a placeholder, a temporary distraction until his "true love" returned from Europe?

The pain wasn't just heartbreak; it was a profound injustice.

I wouldn't just disappear.

Armed with clarity and a quiet fury, I walked away, not to mourn, but to reclaim the ambitious woman he tried to erase.

And when he inevitably came crawling back, offering millions to buy my forgiveness, he'd learn that some things, once broken, can never be bought back.

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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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