The Wife Who Erased Us

The Wife Who Erased Us

Gavin

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My life was simple, if a little messy, running a tech repair shop, but I had everything that mattered: my wife, Olivia, and our five-year-old son, Leo. Then, Olivia left for her sister' s funeral, promising to return. She didn' t. I later found her living a new, lavish life, engaged to her dead sister' s wealthy fiancé. When I confronted her, begging for answers, her bodyguards brutally beat me. In the chaos, Leo darted into the street and was struck by a car. He died in my arms in the pouring rain, while Olivia watched, emotionless. "He was a mistake," she said, her voice like ice, offering me a paltry sum to disappear. Daniel Thorne, her fiancé, then stabbed me, leaving me for dead beside my son' s body. As darkness consumed me, I felt nothing but utter despair and a burning hatred for the woman I had once loved. But then, my eyes opened. I was in my own bed, in our small apartment. And from the other side of the room, I heard a small cough. Leo was playing with his blocks, alive and well. Olivia walked in, suitcase in hand, ready to leave for that funeral. I had been given a second chance, a do-over. This time, Olivia Reed would pay.

Introduction

My life was simple, if a little messy, running a tech repair shop, but I had everything that mattered: my wife, Olivia, and our five-year-old son, Leo.

Then, Olivia left for her sister' s funeral, promising to return. She didn' t.

I later found her living a new, lavish life, engaged to her dead sister' s wealthy fiancé.

When I confronted her, begging for answers, her bodyguards brutally beat me.

In the chaos, Leo darted into the street and was struck by a car.

He died in my arms in the pouring rain, while Olivia watched, emotionless.

"He was a mistake," she said, her voice like ice, offering me a paltry sum to disappear.

Daniel Thorne, her fiancé, then stabbed me, leaving me for dead beside my son' s body.

As darkness consumed me, I felt nothing but utter despair and a burning hatred for the woman I had once loved.

But then, my eyes opened.

I was in my own bed, in our small apartment.

And from the other side of the room, I heard a small cough.

Leo was playing with his blocks, alive and well.

Olivia walked in, suitcase in hand, ready to leave for that funeral.

I had been given a second chance, a do-over.

This time, Olivia Reed would pay.

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I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.

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