The Man Who Abandoned Her Love

Name: The Man Who Abandoned Her Love
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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For ten years, I thought Chase Strong was my savior, pulling me from my small Midwestern town to the glitter of New York City, where I became his devoted fiancée and a successful hand model. Then, a surprise manicure booked by Chase at his ex-girlfriend Karis' s salon left my hands ruined, destroying my career just days before a major contract. When my agent threatened legal action against Karis, Chase' s rage exploded, accusing me of ruining her business. Days later, he drove me deep into a national park, pulled me from the car, threw my purse on the ground, and drove away, leaving me stranded, pregnant, and with no cell service. After two days of terror and dehydration, I returned home to find Chase casually laughing with his friends about abandoning me, calling me a "placeholder" and mocking my career, revealing his true, cruel nature. I couldn' t understand how the man I loved, the father of my unborn child, could see me as a disposable object, especially after my own family had disowned me, leaving me truly alone and with nowhere to go. With nothing left to lose, I made a decision: I would cut all ties with Chase, starting with the baby, and reclaim my life, no matter the cost.

Betrayal Revenge Pregnancy Divorce Kickass Heroine

Chapter 10

07-29 22:11

Chapter 1

For ten years, I thought Chase Strong was my savior, pulling me from my small Midwestern town to the glitter of New York City, where I became his devoted fiancée and a successful hand model.

Then, a surprise manicure booked by Chase at his ex-girlfriend Karis' s salon left my hands ruined, destroying my career just days before a major contract.

When my agent threatened legal action against Karis, Chase' s rage exploded, accusing me of ruining her business. Days later, he drove me deep into a national park, pulled me from the car, threw my purse on the ground, and drove away, leaving me stranded, pregnant, and with no cell service.

After two days of terror and dehydration, I returned home to find Chase casually laughing with his friends about abandoning me, calling me a "placeholder" and mocking my career, revealing his true, cruel nature.

I couldn' t understand how the man I loved, the father of my unborn child, could see me as a disposable object, especially after my own family had disowned me, leaving me truly alone and with nowhere to go.

With nothing left to lose, I made a decision: I would cut all ties with Chase, starting with the baby, and reclaim my life, no matter the cost.

Chapter 1

For ten years, I thought Chase Strong was my savior. He was the one who pulled me out of my small, conservative Midwestern town and brought me to the glitter of New York City. For ten years, I was his loving, devoted Clare. The perfect partner for a rising tech star.

He was always so thoughtful. He remembered my favorite flowers, the way I liked my coffee, the exact shade of nail polish that made my hands look best for a photo shoot. My hands were my life, my career. As a hand model, they paid for our beautiful apartment, even if his startup was the thing everyone talked about.

One afternoon, he surprised me. "I booked you a manicure at a new place, babe. It's supposed to be the best in the city. Exclusive."

I smiled, grateful as always. "You didn't have to do that."

"Only the best for you," he said, kissing my forehead.

The salon was chic, all white marble and minimalist design. A woman with a sharp, perfect bob and a surgically sweet smile greeted us. "Chase! It's been too long."

"Karis," he said, his voice a little tight. "This is my fiancée, Clare."

Karis Manning. His high-school sweetheart. The "one that got away." He' d mentioned her, but always as a closed chapter. Her eyes scanned me, a flicker of something cold in their depths before the sweet smile returned.

"Of course. Clare. Your hands are legendary," she said, leading me to a chair. "Let me take care of you personally."

She worked with precision, her own nails perfect daggers of crimson. But the chemical she used on my cuticles felt wrong. It burned. A sharp, searing pain.

"Is this supposed to sting so much?" I asked, trying to pull my hand back.

"Just a new vitamin treatment, honey. It's working its magic," she said, her grip firm.

By the time I left, my hands were red and raw. The next morning, they were a disaster. The skin was peeling, inflamed, and utterly ruined. A $300,000 contract for a diamond campaign was due to shoot in three days. It was gone. My entire career was on fire.

My agency was furious. They had warned me about Karis's salon. Rumors of shoddy practices and cutting corners had been circulating for months. I had ignored them because Chase had insisted. When my agent called the salon and threatened legal action, blacklisting them from the industry, Chase' s reaction wasn't sympathy. It was rage.

"You're ruining her business!" he yelled, his face twisted into an ugly mask I'd never seen before. "Because you couldn't handle a little sting?"

The next day, he told me we were going for a drive to clear our heads. He drove for hours, into the mountains, until we were deep inside a national park. He stopped the car on a deserted overlook.

"Get out," he said.

"What?"

"Get out of the car, Clare." His voice was flat, empty of any warmth. He pulled me out, threw my purse on the ground, got back in the car, and drove away.

I was left there. Pregnant, my hands ruined, with no cell service and no one for miles.

It took me two days to walk out of that park. Two days of terror, hunger, and dehydration. A park ranger found me collapsed on the side of the road. When I finally got back to our apartment, exhausted and broken, I heard voices from the living room. Chase and his friends.

I stopped in the hallway, hidden by the shadows, and listened.

"You actually left her there? In the woods?" one of his friends, Mark, asked, laughing.

"She needed to learn a lesson," Chase's voice was casual, light. "She and her agency were going to ruin Karis. Can't have that."

"But she's pregnant, man. What if something happened?"

Chase chuckled. A low, cruel sound. "What's going to happen? She's tough. A good Midwestern girl, right? Besides, the pregnancy is the only thing making her useful right now."

My blood ran cold.

Another friend, Leo, chimed in. "Useful how? Her hands are shot."

"She's a placeholder, you idiot," Chase said. "She's pregnant, and her family hates her. Where's she going to go? She has nothing without me. She's trapped. She' ll learn to be grateful again."

They all laughed.

"She was getting too big for her britches, talking about her 'career'," Chase mocked. "A hand model. Please."

"Did you see her when she got back?" Mark asked. "Looked like something the cat dragged in. All muddy and her hair a mess."

"Serves her right," Chase said. "A little punishment for crossing Karis."

I stood there, shaking so hard my teeth chattered. The man I loved, the man I had given ten years of my life to, the father of my unborn child, saw me as a thing. An object to be controlled and discarded.

I thought maybe he was just angry. That he would feel guilty. That he would apologize. That last shred of hope died right there in the hallway.

"You're not worried she'll leave you?" Leo asked.

Chase's laugh was arrogant, full of confidence. "Leave me? Clare loves me more than she loves herself. She worships the ground I walk on. She'll cry, she'll beg for my forgiveness, and then she'll be the perfect, obedient fiancée again. She has nowhere else to go."

Every word was a nail in the coffin of the love I thought we had. A bitter smile touched my lips. He was right about one thing. I had nowhere to go.

I crept into the bedroom and found my phone. I dialed my mother's number. My hands trembled as I listened to it ring.

"Hello?" Her voice was sharp, impatient.

"Mom, it's Clare. I... I need help."

"Clare? What now? Are you asking for money again? Your father and I are done. You made your choice when you ran off to New York with that man."

"Mom, please, I'm in trouble."

"We threw out that little box of your things from your room last week," she said, her voice like ice. "There's nothing for you here. Don't call again."

The line went dead.

I was truly alone. Chase had found me when I was eighteen, a girl desperate to escape a family that saw her as a failure for not wanting to marry a local farmer. He had seemed like a prince, my rescuer. Now I saw the truth. He hadn't rescued me. He'd just found a girl with no support system, someone easy to mold, someone who looked just enough like Karis to be a temporary replacement.

Rain started to beat against the window. Without thinking, I took off my shoes, walked out of the apartment, and into the downpour. I walked barefoot through the city streets, the cold pavement a shock to my system. I didn't stop until I was standing in front of a clinic.

Inside, the light was too bright. I walked to the counter. "I need to schedule an abortion."

The nurse looked at me, her expression kind but professional. She took me into a small room. A doctor came in and looked over the chart the nurse had started.

"Ms. Jennings," the doctor said gently. "You're malnourished and severely dehydrated. Your body has been through significant stress. An abortion right now carries risks."

"What kind of risks?" My voice was a croak.

"It could affect your ability to have children in the future. It could be permanent."

My face felt like a stone mask. I nodded. "I understand."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I can't bring a child into this world," I whispered. "I can't be responsible for a life when I can't even protect my own."

She scheduled the procedure for a few weeks away, giving me time to get my strength back.

I dragged myself back to the apartment. Chase and his friends were still there, drinking. He saw me standing in the doorway, soaked and pale.

"Look what the storm blew in," he said with a smirk.

His friends laughed.

For the first time, I saw him clearly. The charming, doting partner was a performance. This cruel, narcissistic man was the real Chase Strong.

I said nothing. I walked past him, into our bedroom, and closed the door.

The apartment was still decorated for our engagement party. Streamers and balloons drooped from the ceiling, mocking me. The wedding was in a month. A grand affair he had planned, a public spectacle to show off his perfect life with his perfect, pregnant fiancée. A fiancée he had just left to die in a forest.

I turned on my phone. Dozens of messages. One from my agent said they'd managed to negotiate a smaller penalty for the broken contract, but it would still cost me everything I had. I was ruined.

That night, he slipped into bed beside me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his touch making my skin crawl.

"You okay, baby?" he whispered against my hair. "How's the little one?"