Fake Divorce, Real Betrayal

Fake Divorce, Real Betrayal

Gavin

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"Let' s get a divorce, Ava." My husband, Mark, said the words so calmly, pushing the papers across our dining room table, the morning light making the black letters sharp. He quickly added, "It' s a fake divorce. It' s for Clara. Lily needs to get into the school district here, and she can' t unless she' s living with my residency." He promised we' d remarry once it was done. He thought I was a fool. I signed the papers, my hands steady, the silence in the room heavy. That fake concern on his face. That smug confidence that he had me completely under his control. I had already seen the truth. Two weeks ago, tucked at the bottom of the trash bin in the guest bathroom Clara used, I' d found it. A pregnancy test. Two pink lines. It wasn' t Lily' s future Mark was securing. It was the future of his new family. I said nothing. Just nodded. The divorce was done, official. Outside the courthouse, I watched Mark walk quickly toward a car. Clara got out, then wrapped her arms around his neck, his hand resting protectively on her stomach. They looked like a real family. My phone buzzed. A message from Professor Thorne, my old mentor. "The lab door is always open for you, Ava." I took a deep breath, watched them drive away, and then turned to walk in the opposite direction. My pain was old, familiar. Now, it was time for change.

Introduction

"Let' s get a divorce, Ava."

My husband, Mark, said the words so calmly, pushing the papers across our dining room table, the morning light making the black letters sharp.

He quickly added, "It' s a fake divorce. It' s for Clara. Lily needs to get into the school district here, and she can' t unless she' s living with my residency."

He promised we' d remarry once it was done.

He thought I was a fool.

I signed the papers, my hands steady, the silence in the room heavy.

That fake concern on his face. That smug confidence that he had me completely under his control.

I had already seen the truth.

Two weeks ago, tucked at the bottom of the trash bin in the guest bathroom Clara used, I' d found it. A pregnancy test. Two pink lines.

It wasn' t Lily' s future Mark was securing. It was the future of his new family.

I said nothing. Just nodded.

The divorce was done, official. Outside the courthouse, I watched Mark walk quickly toward a car. Clara got out, then wrapped her arms around his neck, his hand resting protectively on her stomach. They looked like a real family.

My phone buzzed. A message from Professor Thorne, my old mentor. "The lab door is always open for you, Ava."

I took a deep breath, watched them drive away, and then turned to walk in the opposite direction. My pain was old, familiar. Now, it was time for change.

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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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