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No Second Chances, Blake

Chapter 3 Chapter (Ⅲ)

Word Count: 891    |    Released on: 29/01/2026

he structure is unstable!" t

care! She'

restrain him. "Blake, ca

ne had never heard from him. Not for her. Never for her. He looked at the burni

ay and made a run

I' m Blake Santos! These hands are insured for millions! They perform miracles! But I

fession. A truth so brutal

ding in the shadows, her fac

ine...

e' s been obsessed with Ariana since high school. I thought

just neglect. It was a love story she had no par

She had decorated their home, managed his social obligations, comforted him after long surgeries, and endured his

ll along, in every missed anniversary, every canceled plan, e

e. A way to give herself a finish line, an escape hatch from a marriage that was hollowing her out. And to

ious, coughing, but otherwise seemed unharmed. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the w

ce looked f

e' s body finally gave out. The adrenaline faded, and he c

k. She remembered the charity gala where she first met him. He was the most brilliant, captivating man she had ever seen.

hat. But when he proposed six months later, she thought she had wo

, drunk and loose-lipped, telling someone the truth. "Blake only married her because Ariana got marr

marriage. It was the day she went out and bought the plain black journal. It was her la

elerated everything. The points on her list disappeared with terrif

ntos? Your husband is stable. He inhaled a lot of smoke, but he'

ne, he' ll come to his senses," Sarah said, placing a hand on h

te in her mouth. She stood up and walked o

walked to the closet and took out the bla

n into a burning

d he would give up

er pen. Her ha

saving her, and his first and l

a few points left. Very

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No Second Chances, Blake
No Second Chances, Blake
“For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.”