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The Betrayal That Shattered My Heart: A True Story of Love & Lies | Storytime Stateside
Aug 15, 2025
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The Betrayal That Shattered My Heart: A True Story of Love & Lies | Storytime Stateside
The sun was a searing orange ball as I drove east toward Santa Fe, haunted by love, betrayal, and broken trust.
Join me as I share the raw, painful journey of Thomas Rexford—aka Jaxi—the lumberjack-turned-investor whose life unraveled through love, heartbreak, and deception. From a fiery romance with Jessica, a woman whose beauty masked a darker truth, to the devastating unraveling of their marriage and the sting of betrayal, this is a story about learning to face the harsh realities behind the smiles and promises.
🔹 True love tested by jealousy and lies
🔹 The wisdom of family advice and heartbreak
🔹 When trust breaks and the truth emerges
If you’ve ever loved someone who didn’t value you the way you deserved, this story will hit home. Don’t forget to like, comment your thoughts, and subscribe for more real-life stories that touch the soul.
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0:00
The sun was a searing orange ball in the
0:02
rearview mirror as I drove east toward
0:04
Santa Fe. The old pickup rattled along,
0:07
a metallic groan accompanying the thrum
0:09
of a forgotten 70s rock song on the
0:11
radio. The lyrics, a simple, painful
0:15
truth, echoed the turmoil in my own
0:17
head. When you're in love with a
0:19
beautiful woman, it's tough. It wasn't
0:22
an ego issue. Not really. It was about
0:25
seeing the world through a lens of past
0:26
betrayals, of half-hearted promises and
0:30
unreliable friends.
0:32
Every glance, every smile she gave to
0:34
another man felt like a pin prick, a
0:37
tiny wound that reminded me of the
0:39
fragility of trust. It felt like I was
0:42
watching my life play out in a slow
0:44
motion tragedy, a story I had no control
0:47
over. My name is Thomas Rexford, but in
0:50
Denver, where my roots run as deep as
0:52
the Rockies, everyone calls me Jaxi.
0:56
The nickname is a testament to the three
0:58
years I spent as a lumberjack in the
0:59
Pacific Northwest. A time of physical
1:02
labor and emotional solitude that shaped
1:04
me into the man I am today. It also gave
1:07
me a love for the open road and the raw
1:09
power of my Harley-Davidson Greta, a
1:12
2005 soft tail standard that had been a
1:14
silent witness to my life and my love
1:17
and now my loneliness.
1:20
My investment company, a business I had
1:22
built from the ground up, was my anchor.
1:25
But it had six offices in Denver, not
1:27
one in this strange, quiet town I was
1:29
now headed to. I was a fish out of
1:32
water. A hockey player in a place with
1:35
no ice rinks. A man with a shattered
1:37
heart in a city of new beginnings. But
1:40
to understand how I got here, I have to
1:42
go back to the beginning. To the night I
1:45
first saw her again. The night I should
1:48
have listened to the whispers of my own
1:49
intuition. I had known Jessica Remington
1:51
in high school, but we were two
1:53
different worlds.
1:55
I was a hockey player, gruff with long
1:57
brown hair and a vocabulary peppered
1:59
with damn and hell.
2:02
She was a star student, a soccer player
2:04
with blazing green eyes and deep red
2:06
hair that seemed to catch the light. 3
2:09
years after I returned from Oregon, a
2:11
more rugged, confident man, our worlds
2:14
collided at a men's hockey game. She was
2:17
with my goalie's girlfriend, a striking
2:19
vision of beauty in the raw, smelly
2:21
environment of the rink.
2:23
Hey, Thomas. Great game, she said, her
2:26
voice a melody in the loud echoing
2:28
hallway.
2:30
Aren't you going to say hi to an old
2:32
school friend?
2:33
I had a hockey player's social grace,
2:36
which is to say none at all. I was
2:39
polite but distant. She was stunning,
2:42
and I was on guard. My friend Beamer, a
2:45
walking encyclopedia of bad advice, saw
2:47
the potential. "You might have a chance,
2:50
bro," he whispered in my ear.
2:52
Don't mess it up. That night at a local
2:55
pub, we talked for hours. It was just
2:58
the two of us, a bubble of easy
3:00
conversation in a crowded room. She told
3:03
me about her life, marine biology,
3:06
surfing, and the mountain home she had
3:08
returned to. I told her about my life,
3:11
the lumberjack days, my investment
3:13
company, and my love for the open road.
3:16
When she asked to ride Greta, my heart
3:19
skipped a beat. I waited two days to
3:21
call. A strategic move to appear
3:24
nonchalant. When I did, she hung up on
3:27
me. A playful screw you and a figure it
3:30
out jacker. A new kind of challenge. Our
3:33
first date was a ride to a music
3:35
festival in Leadville. The Colorado
3:38
summer was perfect. The mountains a
3:40
breathtaking backdrop to our fledgling
3:42
romance. But even then, there was a
3:45
flaw. Men ogled her. A constant stream
3:49
of attention. She seemed to soak up with
3:51
a smile and a wink. It bothered me, a
3:54
tiny crack in the foundation of my
3:56
trust, but I pushed it down. She was
3:59
just being friendly, I told myself. She
4:01
was a beautiful woman after all. 4
4:03
months later, we were exclusive. We met
4:06
each other's families, a whirlwind of
4:08
holidays and introductions. And that's
4:10
when I called the war council.
4:13
My dad, my brother Mikey, and my grandpa
4:15
Rexford, three men I trusted implicitly,
4:18
gathered on my porch with a bottle of
4:20
15-year-old Glenn Livit. Mikey, ever the
4:24
academic, gave a mathematical analysis
4:26
of our relationship. It was a good
4:28
foundation, but he recommended a slower
4:31
approach. Dad, the voice of reason,
4:34
agreed. He spoke of the importance of
4:37
courtship, of knowing each other through
4:39
a few breakups.
4:40
Then Grandpa Rexford, the wise elder
4:43
statesman, delivered the most chilling
4:45
and preient advice of all.
4:48
Beauty is skin deep, he said, his voice
4:51
a low rumble. But ugliness goes to the
4:54
bone. He saw the flaw I had been
4:56
ignoring, her need for constant
4:58
attention, her narcissistic streak. He
5:01
spoke of a Bob Seager song, Hollywood
5:04
Nights, and the line that had stuck with
5:06
him for decades. She was born with a
5:08
face that allowed her to get what she
5:10
wanted. He warned me that her beauty was
5:13
a power she knew how to wield, and he
5:16
feared she would continue to flirt, to
5:18
seek validation even after we were
5:20
married. His advice was a brutal, honest
5:24
assessment of the woman I was falling in
5:26
love with. Take her to Oregon, to a
5:29
place where she knew no one, and see if
5:31
she could survive without the constant
5:33
agilation.
5:35
I didn't take all his advice, but I took
5:37
the spirit of it. I decided to slow
5:40
things down, to spend more intentional
5:43
time together. We had long conversations
5:46
about our past, our future, our fears. I
5:49
thought we were building a strong
5:50
foundation, a fortress against the
5:53
outside world. But I was wrong. The flaw
5:56
was still there, waiting for the right
5:58
moment to expose itself. It happened at
6:00
a local pub, a place with live bands and
6:03
a relaxed atmosphere. We were dancing,
6:06
laughing, our relationship feeling as
6:08
solid as ever. But when I went to the
6:10
men's room, I returned to find Jessica
6:12
flirting with a guy I recognized from
6:14
high school, a rich kid named Wayne, who
6:16
hadn't attended our school, but knew who
6:18
I was. He was standing too close, and
6:21
she was giggling, touching his arm, a
6:24
clear violation of the unspoken rules of
6:26
our relationship. I stood back, watching
6:29
the scene unfold, the words of my war
6:31
council echoing in my mind. She didn't
6:34
miss me. She didn't acknowledge my
6:36
presence. When she finally introduced
6:39
me, her guilt was a fleeting flicker in
6:42
her eyes. "Wne, why don't you join us?"
6:45
she said, never once asking if it was
6:47
okay. Then the final unforgivable
6:51
strike. Wayne, why don't you spin me
6:54
around on the dance floor? she asked
6:56
him. Not me. She didn't look at me. She
6:59
didn't care. I didn't say a word. I
7:02
simply left. The moonlight ride home on
7:05
Greta, a cold, silent bomb for my
7:07
wounded pride. I had given her three
7:10
strikes and she had struck out. The call
7:12
started an hour later, a torrent of
7:14
angry, demanding messages.
7:17
Thomas, where are you? You son of a cow.
7:19
Come back and get me now.
7:22
The next morning, she burst into my
7:23
apartment, a whirlwind of righteous
7:25
fury. Her face was red, her nostrils
7:28
flared. "You son of a cow, Thomas. How
7:31
dare you leave me like that?" But I held
7:34
my ground. I didn't yell. I didn't back
7:37
down. I laid out the facts, the cold,
7:40
hard reality of her disrespect. "I won't
7:43
compete for you, Jessica," I said, my
7:45
voice calm and steady. "We're past that
7:48
stage. I'm yours and you should expect
7:51
love, respect, and honor from me, just
7:53
as I expect the same from you." She
7:56
broke down, her anger giving way to a
7:58
torrent of tears. "I'm so sorry, Thomas.
8:02
I didn't think it was horrible of me. I
8:05
love you, and I want to be with you.
8:08
Please forgive me. I forgave her. I
8:10
loved her." 5 months later, we were
8:13
married in a beautiful ceremony near
8:15
Breenidge, surrounded by family and
8:17
friends.
8:18
We took a wonderful honeymoon to Cabo.
8:20
We had long, honest conversations. We
8:23
went to a therapist.
8:25
I truly believed we had built a life
8:27
together, a partnership based on love,
8:30
respect, and honesty.
8:32
4 and 1/2 years later, I was divorced,
8:35
alone again, and driving to Santa Fe. I
8:38
had followed the advice. I had tried to
8:41
build a strong, honest relationship.
8:44
But Grandpa Rexford had been right.
8:46
Jessica's inner ugliness ran deep, a
8:48
selfish streak she couldn't or wouldn't
8:51
change. The final act of her betrayal
8:53
began with a man named Dr. Charles
8:55
Welbborne. To me, he was a Barry
8:57
Melrose. Nice, but unimpressive.
9:00
But to Jessica, he was a legend, a
9:03
mentor, an inspiration. She talked about
9:06
him constantly, her work now a world she
9:08
rarely invited me into. I noticed that
9:11
90% of our conversations were about her
9:13
job and 75% of those were about him. A
9:17
firsttime husband, I dismissed it as
9:19
enthusiasm.
9:21
Then my mom called, her words a gentle
9:24
nudge toward the truth I was trying to
9:25
ignore.
9:27
She's always talking about herself and
9:29
her work, Thomas. I've never heard her
9:31
brag about you or ask about your work.
9:33
That strikes me as odd. My own
9:36
anxieties, which I had been suppressing,
9:38
began to surface.
9:40
I started keeping a simple record, a
9:42
spreadsheet of our conversations.
9:45
The numbers didn't lie. I planned a
9:47
weekend getaway, a chance to reconnect,
9:50
to get back to the intimacy we had once
9:52
shared. But Jessica canled, citing a
9:55
mandatory faculty meeting. Her tone
9:57
wasn't apologetic. It was annoyed.
10:01
"Charles has a mandatory faculty
10:03
meeting," she said, using his first
10:05
name. "A subtle shift that didn't escape
10:07
me. You should have consulted with me
10:10
first. My anger, a cold, hard nod in my
10:13
stomach, finally exploded. Damn it,
10:16
Jess. You work for him. He doesn't own
10:18
your weekend.
10:20
We fought. I rode Greta for 3 hours,
10:23
stopping at a pub to cool down. When I
10:25
got home, the air was thick with a cold
10:28
silence. I had canled the cabin
10:30
reservation, a small loss that felt like
10:32
a huge one. Later, I saw the new entries
10:36
on our shared calendar. The mandatory
10:38
meeting, a math conference in January,
10:40
and two girls nights out. The following
10:43
Saturday, Jessica surprised me with a
10:45
kiss and a casual non-apology.
10:48
"I hope we can talk and make up today,"
10:51
she said, her smile a familiar weapon.
10:54
"I understand your disappointment, but
10:56
I'm sure we can work things out."
10:59
The words were a bitter echo of the
11:01
past, a repetition of a pattern I now
11:04
understood all too well, a face that
11:07
lets her get her way. That day, I went
11:10
to Mick's hardware store to buy oil for
11:12
my creaking porch door. There I saw Mick
11:16
V, a high school friend who also taught
11:18
math at Jessica's school.
11:21
Heard you had a goal and two assists on
11:22
Thursday, he said. A friendly greeting
11:25
that was about to shatter my world. I
11:28
thought Wellbborne had a faculty meeting
11:29
today, I said. A deliberate test. He's
11:33
arrogant, but not that stupid. Mick V
11:35
laughed. He didn't schedule a meeting
11:37
for today. Distrust. A cold, venomous
11:40
thing coiled in my stomach. I drove past
11:43
the school. The parking lots were empty.
11:46
The lights were out. My mind, trained in
11:49
the methodical world of finance, began
11:51
to put the pieces together. I needed
11:54
facts, not just suspicion. I needed
11:56
proof.
11:58
I called my insurance agent and hockey
12:00
teammate, Pat Cookie Cook. Jaxi, he
12:03
said, did you break your leg trying to
12:05
improve your skating skills?
12:08
Not yet, Cookie, I replied. The
12:10
seriousness of my tone making him agree
12:12
to meet me at his office. There, I laid
12:15
out my plan. I think Jess might be
12:18
having an affair, and I need to find
12:19
out. Cookie, a good friend, didn't
12:22
hesitate. I don't have a boyfriend, but
12:25
I know a top-notch investigator. She's
12:27
almost invisible, tough as nails, and
12:30
always gets results. Her name was Ella
12:32
Compton, and she was a force of nature
12:34
in a small 5-ft tall package. I
12:36
explained my situation, and she gave me
12:38
her price. I need $1500 upfront, she
12:42
said, her voice all business. This is
12:44
confidential, right? I paid her, a sick
12:48
feeling of betrayal and dread in my gut.
12:50
I had to maintain the facade.
12:53
At home, I kissed Jessica on the cheek,
12:56
telling her I had tickets to an
12:57
avalanche game. I lied, telling her I
13:00
was sorry for my overreaction, that I
13:03
loved her, and that we would take a
13:05
weekend trip soon. She gave me the same
13:07
non-apology she had always given me, a
13:10
hollow promise that now rang with a
13:12
sickening falseness.
13:14
"I understand your frustration," she
13:16
said. "We'll go soon, just the two of
13:20
us. The next six weeks were a living
13:22
hell. Christmas was a blur of fake
13:25
smiles and forced affection.
13:27
New Year's Eve, a night meant for
13:29
celebration and new beginnings, was a
13:32
nightmare of physical intimacy that felt
13:34
hollow and empty. We were two strangers
13:37
living a lie. And the clock was ticking.
13:40
I was no longer the confident, hopeful
13:42
man I had been. I was a man with a
13:45
secret. A man waiting for a detective's
13:47
report that I knew deep down would
13:49
confirm my worst fears.
13:52
My grandfather's words echoed in my
13:54
head. A final painful truth. A face that
13:57
lets her get her way will eventually get
13:59
what it wants. And what she wanted, I
14:02
realized with a heavy heart, was not