My Husband Chose His Ex I Became His Regret novel Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Lila

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Three hours later, I stand in front of a room full of reporters, cameras, and people whose opinions will shape public perception of everything I’m trying to build.

My prepared statement is in my hands. Two pages. Carefully crafted by PR professionals. Approved by lawyers. Safe.

I look at it.

Then I fold it and set it aside.

“I married a man who spent three years systematically destroying my sense of self-worth. He cheated. He lied. He made me believe I was lucky he tolerated me. And I stayed because I thought I deserved it. Because I thought I was too weak, too damaged, too worthless to deserve better.”

The room is completely silent.

“I found the courage to leave. Not because I suddenly became strong. Not because someone saved me. But because staying was killing me and I finally, finally chose myself.”

I see Aidan in the back of the room. He’s not looking at his phone or talking to Marcus. He’s just watching me. Believing in me.

“The Elizabeth Stark Foundation exists because I know what it’s like to feel trapped. To feel like there’s no way out. To feel like you’re alone and no one will believe you and leaving will only make things worse.” I grip the podium. “But you’re not alone. And there is a way out. And leaving, leaving is the first step to reclaiming your life.”

A reporter raises her hand. “Ms. Stark, what specific services will the foundation provide?”

“Legal assistance for women seeking protective orders or divorces. Financial support for those who need help with housing, childcare, or job training while they rebuild. Therapy and counseling services. Connection to safe shelters and resources. And most importantly…” I pause. “A community. A network of survivors who understand. Who’ve been there. Who can tell you that it gets better. Because it does get better.”

Another reporter: “Why name it after your mother?”

I wasn’t expecting that question. Didn’t prepare for it.

But the answer comes easily.

“To honour her, the foundation is for her. For every woman deserved so much more than what they got

Silence.

Then someone in the back starts clapping.

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Chapter 77

“To both.”

We drink.

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Across the room, I see the executive director we hired Sarah, formerly of the National Domestic Violence Hotline. She’s talking to a group of potential donors, animated and passionate. She believes in this work. Believes in what we’re building.

I hired her three months ago. Best decision I’ve made.

“You should probably give your speech soon,” Aidan says, checking his watch. “Donors are getting restless.”

“Right. Speech.” My stomach clenches.

“You’ll be brilliant.”

“You always say that.”

“I say it because it’s true.” He kisses my temple. “Go change the world, Lila Stark.”

I make my way to the small stage. Someone hands me a microphone. The room quiets.

“Thank you all for being here tonight,” I begin. “Every ticket purchased, every donation made, every conversation started, it all contributes to saving lives.”

I see faces in the crowd. Some I know. Most I don’t. All listening.

“Domestic abuse thrives in silence. In shame. In the belief that no one will help, no one will believe, no one will care.” I grip the microphone. “The Elizabeth Stark Foundation exists to break that silence. To say: we believe you. We will help you. You are not alone.”

I talk about the services we’ll provide. The partnerships we’re building. The vision for expansion.

Then I set down my notes.

“I want to tell you about a girl who was seveb years old when her mother died. Who blamed herself. Who grew up believing she was fundamentally unlovable. Who married a man who confirmed every terrible thing she believed about herself.”

The room is completely silent.

“That girl is me. And I’m standing here tonight, successful, safe, surrounded by people who value me, because someone finally told me I deserved better. Because I finally believed it. Because I finally chose myself.”

My voice breaks. I don’t try to hide it.

“If you’re in an abusive relationship right now, if you’re reading this tomorrow in the news, if you’re wondering if it’s worth leaving, it is. You deserve better. You deserve safety. You deserve love that doesn’t hurt. You deserve a life where you’re valued, respected, cherished.”

I find Aidan in the crowd. He’s not hiding the tears on his face.

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“And if you can’t believe that yet, let me believe it for you. Let this foundation believe it for you. Let the community we’re building believe it for you until you can believe it yourself.” I take a breath. “Because you are worth saving. Your life is worth living. Your future is worth fighting for.”

I pause.

“The Elizabeth Stark Foundation opens its doors next month. We’ll have a 24-hour hotline. Legal clinics. Emergency housing assistance. Therapy services. Job training programs. Everything I wished existed when I needed it most.”

Another pause.

“And we’re here to help you do it.”

I finish. Set down the microphone.

The applause is thunderous.

People are standing.. Some rushing forward to make additional donations on the spot.

Sarah appears at my side. “We just got five new six-figure donations. Plus commitments for ongoing monthly support. Lila, this is….this is incredible.”

I’m shaking. From adrenaline. From relief. From the overwhelming sense that I did it.

I actually did it.

Aidan reaches me first. Pulls me into his arms.

“You were perfect,” he says into my hair. “Absolutely perfect.”

“I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yes, you could have. But I’m honored I got to help.”

I pull back. Look at him. This man who appeared when I needed him most. Who stood beside me through everything. Who never tried to save me, just gave me the space to save myself.

“Thank you,” I say. “For everything. For believing in me. For funding this. For…” I can’t find the words.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is your vision. Your passion. Your way of making sure other women have the resources you didn’t. I’m just grateful I get to be part of it.”

“I love you.” The words come out fierce. Certain. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses me. Soft and sweet and full of promise.

When we pull apart, there are cameras flashing. Tomorrow’s papers will probably run photos of us kissing at the foundation gala.

I don’t care.

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Chapter 77

Let them see. Let them write their stories. Let them make their judgments.

I’m not hiding anymore.

I’m not ashamed.

I’m a survivor. An advocate. A woman who took her pain and turned it into purpose.

And I’m just getting started.

Later that night, back at Aidan’s apartment, I collapse on the couch.

“I can’t believe we raised two million dollars in one night,” I say to the ceiling.

“Two point three million,” Aidan corrects, sitting beside me. “Final count just came in.”

“That’s…” I can’t process it. “That’s enough to help so many people.”

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“It’s a start.” He takes my hand. “You know this is just the beginning, right? The foundation is going to grow. The impact is going to spread. You’re going to change lives, Lila.”

“We’re going to change lives.”

“No.” He squeezes my hand. “This is yours. Your vision. Your legacy. I’m just along for the ride.”

I turn to look at him. “It’s our legacy. Everything I do, everything I am now, it’s because you showed me 1 could be more than what Mark said I was.”

“You always were more. You just needed to see it.”

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