The First Wife Revenge

her skin. The house loomed behind her like a towering reminder

her mind. "You're nothing but a burden." "We've been waiting for this moment." Brandon's face was burned into her memory - the coldn

t n

no home, no support. And yet, one thing was crystal clear: she would make the Carters regret th

cepted her. Now, the world was wide open, and the only person she nee

erate to escape her life in Chicago. She had thought marrying him would solve everything. But after their marriage, the facade began to crack, and with it, all of her dreams for a better life were sl

t that - a dream, never meant to be. She thought of the child growing inside her and promised herself that

she had longed to escape - was the one place she could think of where she could start fresh. She had

nt of cash she had managed to scrape together, and a heart f

engers offered her a strange comfort, a momentary escape from the crushing weight of the events she had just left behind. As the bus pulled away from the station and the

ing mile, she felt herself distancing from everything she had known. She felt a mixture of fear and hope - hope that somehow, she coul

arter. They had met at a gala, a whirlwind romance that seemed too perfect to be true. Brandon had

nd, came from money, power, and influence. He had promised her a life free of poverty, a life filled with opportunities. At first, he had been everything she'd wanted - attentive, lovin

re married, thin

as "too common," a poor girl from the streets of Chicago. They had expected her to be like them

become colder and more distant with each passing day. The man she had once married was gone, replaced by someone who o

best friend since childhood - her confidant, her rock. She was the one person who had always supported her, even wh

sha's number. She needed to hear her voice, needed the comfort of som

twice before Ta

ith surprise but also warmth. "Oh my

in. It's all falling apart. Brandon... he's not the man I thought he was. The Carters - they turne

could feel Tasha processing the words, unde

t believe they did that to you. But listen to me -

eld them back. "I don't know what to do, Tasha. I'm on

need to be somewhere where you can breathe again. And I know someone who can help. My uncle in Chicago - he's

d a beat. "Your uncle

He'll understand. I'll call him and let him know you're co

eginning. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was a chanc

I don't know what I

on't forget that. And thi