I went to check on my boyfriend, worried he was too sick to even text me back. But what I found shattered my trust and sent my world spinning. Days later, the last person I ever expected showed up at my door, and together, we started something that changed my life forever.
One crisp autumn day, I sat alone in my small, cozy apartment, the sunlight streaming weakly through the windows. The orange and red leaves outside seemed to mock my restlessness as I stared at my phone, waiting for my boyfriend, Jace, to finally show up.
He hadn’t visited in days, claiming he was just tired, but something about his excuses didn’t sit right with me.
I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, tapping my foot anxiously against the hardwood floor. Finally, I gave up and dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he answered.
“Hello?” Jace answered, his voice low and groggy, like he’d just woken up.
“Are you sleeping?” I asked, trying to hide the edge in my voice.
“Yeah,” he said, pausing for a second. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I just fell asleep. I’m not feeling great—might have a fever or something.”
“Oh…” I said softly, not sure what else to say.
He coughed hard into the phone, making me wince. “Look, I’ll text you later,” he muttered, his words rushed.
“Feel bet—” I started, but the line went dead before I could finish.
Frustration bubbled up as I tapped my fingers on the table, my thoughts racing. If Jace was really sick, I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing. I’d take care of him, whether he liked it or not. That’s what girlfriends do, right?
Grabbing my coat, I headed out into the crisp autumn air, determined. The walk to the store was brisk. Inside, I picked up fresh fruit, tea, and a box of throat lozenges, imagining how grateful Jace would be when I showed up.
Back at his building, I pressed the elevator button, adjusting the heavy bag on my arm. When the doors slid open, my heart stopped. There he was—Jace—with his arms around a woman I didn’t recognize. Her face pressed against his chest, and they were so close it made my stomach churn.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” I said, my voice louder than I intended.
Jace’s head whipped toward me, his face draining of color. “Kate…” he stammered, stepping toward me. “I can explain.”
I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Just don’t.” I hurled the bag of groceries at him, the fruit spilling across the floor, and walked away without looking back.
A few days later, I still hadn’t heard from him. No apology, no explanation. The silence gnawed at me. I finally texted him to meet at our café at 6 p.m. for closure.
He never showed up. At 8 p.m., he texted: I can’t come. I can’t stand seeing you so sad like this.
His cowardice made me furious.
When I got home, I froze. Standing outside my apartment was her — the woman from the elevator. She looked nervous.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I shouted.
“I want to talk to you,” she said. “I feel like I owe you more than just a conversation.”
After some hesitation, I let her in. Her name was Ashley. We opened a bottle of wine, and she told me how Jace had lied to her too — claiming I was a terrible girlfriend.
We realized he had played both of us.
Ashley smiled mischievously. “Revenge?”
That’s how our plan began.
We created fake dating profiles for Jace targeting men, set up late-night prank calls, and even put up billboards with his face saying he was looking for a man to support and cherish.
Jace begged us to stop. We told him we would… after he paid for our two-week vacation to Spain.
Once the money hit our account, we blocked him and flew to Spain.
On the beach, sipping sangria, Ashley raised her glass. “Best team effort ever.”
I’d lost a terrible boyfriend but gained a real friend. Revenge never tasted so sweet.
