The Gumbo Betrayal

The Gumbo Betrayal

Gavin

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The smell of gumbo usually promised comfort, a life I' d carefully built around Ethan. For five years, I' d sacrificed my culinary dreams, even Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, to be the quiet wife he wanted, especially on our anniversary. But instead of flowers, he walked in with a packed bag, claiming a "client emergency," his eyes fixed anywhere but mine. Hours later, the cooling gumbo was a monument to my foolishness when I saw it: Sabrina Chavez, his high school sweetheart, flaunting him-and the designer bag he' d bought her-in a Napa Valley vineyard, captioned "#soulmates." His frantic call, whispered excuses about Sabrina "needing a friend," only solidified my resolve. "There won' t be a next year," I told him, the words quiet but clear. He came home, expecting tears, but found me calmly eating leftovers, offering a cheap bracelet instead of an explanation. My indifference unnerved him far more than any fight, but he still couldn't grasp the silent fury beneath my calm. Why did his freedom mean I had to shrink myself? Why was I the one always sacrificing? I walked into work the next morning and quit. It was time to remember the woman I' d buried. Paris was calling, and I wasn't just leaving him; I was finally choosing me.

Introduction

The smell of gumbo usually promised comfort, a life I' d carefully built around Ethan. For five years, I' d sacrificed my culinary dreams, even Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, to be the quiet wife he wanted, especially on our anniversary. But instead of flowers, he walked in with a packed bag, claiming a "client emergency," his eyes fixed anywhere but mine.

Hours later, the cooling gumbo was a monument to my foolishness when I saw it: Sabrina Chavez, his high school sweetheart, flaunting him-and the designer bag he' d bought her-in a Napa Valley vineyard, captioned "#soulmates." His frantic call, whispered excuses about Sabrina "needing a friend," only solidified my resolve. "There won' t be a next year," I told him, the words quiet but clear.

He came home, expecting tears, but found me calmly eating leftovers, offering a cheap bracelet instead of an explanation. My indifference unnerved him far more than any fight, but he still couldn't grasp the silent fury beneath my calm. Why did his freedom mean I had to shrink myself? Why was I the one always sacrificing?

I walked into work the next morning and quit. It was time to remember the woman I' d buried. Paris was calling, and I wasn't just leaving him; I was finally choosing me.

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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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