Blinded By Her Betrayal

Blinded By Her Betrayal

Gavin

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The scent of lilies was thick, sweet, and suffocating. It was my wedding day, a grand affair Chloe had meticulously planned, even insisting on a custom-designed lighting fixture for the venue. Then the world exploded: metal twisted, glass shattered, and a crushing impact stole my sight, leaving me in a terrifying void. Chloe stayed by my side, weeping as the doctors delivered their grim prognosis: permanent blindness. She promised to be my "eyes," to take care of me, and swore our extravagant wedding would still happen, a beacon of eternal devotion. Her words were a lifeline in the suffocating dark, and I clung to them, believing in a future where her love would guide me. But then, the flickers started, ghost images resolving into light. My sight was returning, yet an instinct deep inside told me to keep it a secret. I continued to play the blind man, observing, listening, hidden in plain sight. One evening, feigning sleep, I heard Chloe whisper to Mark Stone, her brother-in-law. "Are you sure this was the only way?" she asked. "It was the cleanest way," he murmured, "An accident. Now he's helpless. He'll never find out about us." My heart stopped as I saw Mark kiss her-long and deep-before they spoke of my "inheritance" and a future built on my ruin. They planned it all: the accident, my blindness, my slow, humiliating descent into a "charity case" to be exploited. The betrayal was a physical blow, a cold, black void far worse than any darkness they thought they' d cast me into. They thought me a sightless fool, an easy target. They had no idea who I truly was, or what I was capable of. A silent, burning rage ignited within me, hardening into an unbreakable resolve. They wanted a show? I would give them one tonight at the wedding-a spectacle they would never forget, where their carefully constructed lies would unravel.

Introduction

The scent of lilies was thick, sweet, and suffocating.

It was my wedding day, a grand affair Chloe had meticulously planned, even insisting on a custom-designed lighting fixture for the venue.

Then the world exploded: metal twisted, glass shattered, and a crushing impact stole my sight, leaving me in a terrifying void.

Chloe stayed by my side, weeping as the doctors delivered their grim prognosis: permanent blindness.

She promised to be my "eyes," to take care of me, and swore our extravagant wedding would still happen, a beacon of eternal devotion.

Her words were a lifeline in the suffocating dark, and I clung to them, believing in a future where her love would guide me.

But then, the flickers started, ghost images resolving into light.

My sight was returning, yet an instinct deep inside told me to keep it a secret.

I continued to play the blind man, observing, listening, hidden in plain sight.

One evening, feigning sleep, I heard Chloe whisper to Mark Stone, her brother-in-law.

"Are you sure this was the only way?" she asked.

"It was the cleanest way," he murmured, "An accident. Now he's helpless. He'll never find out about us."

My heart stopped as I saw Mark kiss her-long and deep-before they spoke of my "inheritance" and a future built on my ruin.

They planned it all: the accident, my blindness, my slow, humiliating descent into a "charity case" to be exploited.

The betrayal was a physical blow, a cold, black void far worse than any darkness they thought they' d cast me into.

They thought me a sightless fool, an easy target.

They had no idea who I truly was, or what I was capable of.

A silent, burning rage ignited within me, hardening into an unbreakable resolve.

They wanted a show?

I would give them one tonight at the wedding-a spectacle they would never forget, where their carefully constructed lies would unravel.

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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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