His Shadow, Her Betrayal, His Rise

His Shadow, Her Betrayal, His Rise

Gavin

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The blinding white of the hospital ceiling. My ears registered the monotonous beep of a machine, my body a dull ache radiating from my chest, but my mind was replaying a lifetime. A lifetime I didn't swerve, didn't fight, a life where I gave everything for her, for Sarah Miller. I saw myself hollowed out, unfulfilled, alone, a footnote in her brilliant biography, my own child a ghost. Then the blinding clarity: this wasn't just a brush with death, it was a preview of the life I was about to lose myself in. My gaze drifted-Sarah, impeccable as always, on her phone, brow furrowed. And next to her, Alex, murmuring, his hand on her arm, a gesture far too familiar. They were a perfect, closed circuit. I was the outsider. A cold certainty settled in my chest, more real than the pain from my injuries: I would not let that life happen. My hands trembled, not from weakness, but from a newfound resolve. I called my boss. "Mike! I heard about the accident. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" "I'm okay, Mark," I said, my voice raspy. "But I'm calling to resign." "Resign? Mike, what are you talking about? You're our top young talent. We were just about to put you on the downtown high-rise project." "I don't want the high-rise," I said, with surprising strength. "I want the sustainable community project. The one in Oak Creek. I know it's a pay cut. I know it's in the middle of nowhere. I'll take it. I need to do it." A weight I hadn't realized I was carrying lifted from my shoulders. It felt incredible. This was my second chance. My life wasn't going to be a footnote in Sarah Miller's biography. It was going to be my own story. Starting now.

Introduction

The blinding white of the hospital ceiling.

My ears registered the monotonous beep of a machine, my body a dull ache radiating from my chest, but my mind was replaying a lifetime.

A lifetime I didn't swerve, didn't fight, a life where I gave everything for her, for Sarah Miller.

I saw myself hollowed out, unfulfilled, alone, a footnote in her brilliant biography, my own child a ghost.

Then the blinding clarity: this wasn't just a brush with death, it was a preview of the life I was about to lose myself in.

My gaze drifted-Sarah, impeccable as always, on her phone, brow furrowed.

And next to her, Alex, murmuring, his hand on her arm, a gesture far too familiar.

They were a perfect, closed circuit.

I was the outsider.

A cold certainty settled in my chest, more real than the pain from my injuries: I would not let that life happen.

My hands trembled, not from weakness, but from a newfound resolve.

I called my boss.

"Mike! I heard about the accident. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm okay, Mark," I said, my voice raspy. "But I'm calling to resign."

"Resign? Mike, what are you talking about? You're our top young talent. We were just about to put you on the downtown high-rise project."

"I don't want the high-rise," I said, with surprising strength. "I want the sustainable community project. The one in Oak Creek. I know it's a pay cut. I know it's in the middle of nowhere. I'll take it. I need to do it."

A weight I hadn't realized I was carrying lifted from my shoulders.

It felt incredible.

This was my second chance.

My life wasn't going to be a footnote in Sarah Miller's biography.

It was going to be my own story.

Starting now.

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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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