A Marriage Never Meant To Be

A Marriage Never Meant To Be

Gavin

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My engagement to Ethan Hayes was suffocating, bound by a grim family rule: no breaking up, only widowed. My brother' s dying wish had sealed my fate with a man who no longer loved me. He loved Chloe Davis. The definitive moment arrived when my brother's watch, my most prized possession, was shattered by Chloe Davis. Worse, Ethan, my fiancé, sided with her, dismissing my grief and the watch's immense sentimental value. Instead of comfort, I received an onslaught. His mother lectured me, and Ethan himself dismissed the broken watch as "silly" and "worn out," offering an "upgrade" like my brother's last gift was a trivial inconvenience. Then, Chloe returned with Ethan, feigning an apology, only to deliberately destroy the watch further, crushing the delicate mechanism. With each calculated move, they chipped away at my identity. His friends joined in, accusing me of cruelty, while Ethan, oblivious or uncaring, simply saw me as "dramatic" and "making a mess," even as I lay bleeding on the floor of my own apartment. He was more concerned about being late for a dinner reservation with Chloe than about my pain. Why was I continually subjected to this emotional torture? Why did he let her weaponize my dead brother's memory? The answer finally became painfully clear: I was a problem to be managed, not a partner. So, I picked myself up, cleaned the blood, and calmly put an escape plan into motion. His compliance was no longer about weakness-it was my camouflage.

Introduction

My engagement to Ethan Hayes was suffocating, bound by a grim family rule: no breaking up, only widowed. My brother' s dying wish had sealed my fate with a man who no longer loved me. He loved Chloe Davis.

The definitive moment arrived when my brother's watch, my most prized possession, was shattered by Chloe Davis. Worse, Ethan, my fiancé, sided with her, dismissing my grief and the watch's immense sentimental value.

Instead of comfort, I received an onslaught. His mother lectured me, and Ethan himself dismissed the broken watch as "silly" and "worn out," offering an "upgrade" like my brother's last gift was a trivial inconvenience. Then, Chloe returned with Ethan, feigning an apology, only to deliberately destroy the watch further, crushing the delicate mechanism.

With each calculated move, they chipped away at my identity. His friends joined in, accusing me of cruelty, while Ethan, oblivious or uncaring, simply saw me as "dramatic" and "making a mess," even as I lay bleeding on the floor of my own apartment. He was more concerned about being late for a dinner reservation with Chloe than about my pain.

Why was I continually subjected to this emotional torture? Why did he let her weaponize my dead brother's memory? The answer finally became painfully clear: I was a problem to be managed, not a partner. So, I picked myself up, cleaned the blood, and calmly put an escape plan into motion. His compliance was no longer about weakness-it was my camouflage.

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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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