My Betrayal, My Second Chance

My Betrayal, My Second Chance

Gavin

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The last thing I remembered was the cold hospital room and the flatlining heart monitor. My wife, Ava, wasn't there; she was too busy arranging my adopted brother Ben's funeral. My own birthday had been my death sentence. Mr. Chen, a rival, lunged at me with a knife. Ava, my bodyguard and fiancée, threw herself in front of Ben, not me. The blade severed my spinal cord. I spent a decade paralyzed, yet I married her, giving her everything-my fortune, my name, my pathetic love. She never let me touch her. Only after her death did I learn the truth: love letters addressed to Ben, bank statements showing her funneling my money to him. Her last diary entry: "Ben is everything. I will protect him with my life, just like I did on that day." The monitor went silent. My world turned black. Then, a voice: "Ethan, it's time to decide." My eyes snapped open. I was in the Miller estate, on my 25th birthday, the day I chose my wife. Ava stood there, cool and distant, an ice queen I had spent a lifetime trying to melt. A jolt of pure, undiluted hatred coursed through me. "I've made my decision," I said, voice steady. I looked past Ava, past her confident smirk, and my eyes landed on Chloe Davis. In my past life, she was the only one who visited me. "My choice," I announced, ringing with finality, "is not Ava Lewis."

Introduction

The last thing I remembered was the cold hospital room and the flatlining heart monitor. My wife, Ava, wasn't there; she was too busy arranging my adopted brother Ben's funeral.

My own birthday had been my death sentence. Mr. Chen, a rival, lunged at me with a knife. Ava, my bodyguard and fiancée, threw herself in front of Ben, not me.

The blade severed my spinal cord. I spent a decade paralyzed, yet I married her, giving her everything-my fortune, my name, my pathetic love. She never let me touch her.

Only after her death did I learn the truth: love letters addressed to Ben, bank statements showing her funneling my money to him. Her last diary entry: "Ben is everything. I will protect him with my life, just like I did on that day."

The monitor went silent. My world turned black. Then, a voice: "Ethan, it's time to decide."

My eyes snapped open. I was in the Miller estate, on my 25th birthday, the day I chose my wife. Ava stood there, cool and distant, an ice queen I had spent a lifetime trying to melt. A jolt of pure, undiluted hatred coursed through me.

"I've made my decision," I said, voice steady. I looked past Ava, past her confident smirk, and my eyes landed on Chloe Davis. In my past life, she was the only one who visited me.

"My choice," I announced, ringing with finality, "is not Ava Lewis."

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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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