Part 1: The Discovery
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.
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. “Are you sleeping?” I asked, trying to hide the edge in my voice. “Yeah,” he said, pausing. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I just fell asleep. I’m not feeling great—might have a fever or something.”
He coughed hard, then muttered, “Look, I’ll text you later,” and hung up before I could finish saying “Feel better.”
Frustration bubbled up inside me. If Jace was really sick, I couldn’t just sit there. I grabbed my coat and headed to the store, picking up fresh fruit, tea, and throat lozenges. Back at his building, I took the elevator up. 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. It wasn’t just a hug.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” I said, my voice cutting through the hallway.
Jace’s face drained of color. “Kate… I can explain.”
I held up my hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.” I hurled the bag of groceries at him, fruit spilling everywhere, then turned and walked away without looking back.
Part 2: The Unexpected Visitor
A few days had dragged by since I caught Jace in the elevator. He hadn’t called, texted, or apologized. The silence gnawed at me, so I texted him for closure.
We agreed to meet at 6 p.m. at our café. I sat in our usual booth, but Jace never showed. At 8 p.m., my phone buzzed: “I can’t come. I can’t stand seeing you so sad like this.”
Furious, I stormed home. As I turned the corner to my apartment, I froze. Standing there 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.”
I glared at her. “You can have him. I don’t want anything to do with that jerk.”
“That’s the thing,” she replied firmly. “I don’t want him either.”
I hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. Come in.”
Part 3: Truth and the Revenge Plan
Inside, I poured us wine. Her name was Ashley. She admitted she had known about me, but Jace had told her I was awful to him—ignoring him, flirting with others, making him feel worthless.
“That’s exactly what he told me about you!” I burst out.
We realized he had played both of us. Ashley looked at me with a sly smile. “Revenge?”
And that was how it all began.
We created fake dating profiles for Jace, messaged men pretending to be him, and set up meetups at his apartment. We posted his number online for late-night “fun” calls. The final touch was a billboard in town with his photo and the caption: “Looking for a man to support and cherish.”
Our phones blew up with Jace’s desperate texts: “You have to stop this. Please, I’m begging you!”
Part 4: Payback and a New Beginning
We replied: “We can stop, but there’s one condition.”
He agreed to anything. I sent him the amount for a two-week trip to Spain. Once the money hit my account, I sent one last text: “Oops, we forgot the passwords to the accounts, and the billboards are prepaid for two months.”
We blocked his number and celebrated. A few days later, Ashley and I landed in Spain. We lay on the beach with cold sangria, the sun warm and waves crashing nearby.
Ashley raised her glass with a grin. “Best team effort ever.”
I smiled back. I’d lost a terrible boyfriend but gained one hell of a friend. Revenge never tasted so sweet.
