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My Success Is The Best Revenge, Darling

My Success Is The Best Revenge, Darling

It took seven years for Ethan to convince me I was the center of his universe, and exactly seven weeks for his "business partner," Chloe, to prove I was just a placeholder. I was the woman who ironed his shirts and managed his schedule, yet she was the one he comforted at 2 AM. But the real end didn't come with a fight. It came with an explosion. At a family gathering, a gas heater malfunctioned. Glass shattered, and fire erupted. In that split second of life or death, Ethan didn't look for me. He threw his body over Chloe. He shielded her from the flames, cocooning her in his arms, whispering frantically to her while I stood twenty feet away, watching my boyfriend of seven years act like I didn't exist. When I confronted him later, he didn't apologize. Instead, he let Chloe carve her initials over ours on our anniversary tree. When I tried to stop them, he shoved me into the dirt to comfort her over a broken nail. "You are dead to me, Ava," he screamed. "Jealousy makes you ugly." He thought I would beg. He thought I was an appliance he could unplug and plug back in whenever he wanted. He was arrogant enough to believe I would always be there, waiting for his scraps. He was wrong. While he was playing hero to his mistress, I didn't cry. I booked a one-way ticket to Portland, snapped my SIM card in half, and vanished. By the time he realized the silence in his apartment wasn't peace, but abandonment, I was already gone.
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Chapter 6

Ava POV I didn't get on the plane. Not yet. There was a gravitational singularity in my chest, a heavy anchor dragging me back to the one place I swore I would never visit again. I told myself I needed closure. I told myself I needed to see the lake one last time to make sure the ghost of us was truly dead. Instead, I was the one haunting the perimeter. I drove my rental car to the edge of the park. The sun was setting, casting long, hemorrhaging shadows across the water. This was where our timeline began. This was where he first kissed me. I walked down the gravel path toward the old willow tree. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying memory. Then I saw them. They were in the gazebo. Ethan was sitting on the bench, a sketchbook balanced on his knee. Chloe was leaning against his shoulder, her finger tracing the line of his jaw. He was drawing her. Nausea coiled in my gut. Ethan used to write me poems here. He used to say he couldn't draw, that his hands were only good for holding mine. Yet now, his charcoal moved across the paper with a practiced fluidity that felt like a betrayal of his own biology. "It is beautiful, babe," Chloe cooed. Her voice carried over the still water, sharp and clear. "You make it easy," Ethan replied. I stepped behind the trunk of the massive willow tree, hiding like a criminal in my own history. My hand brushed against the rough bark. I looked for our initials. E & A. We had carved them there five years ago. He had pressed the knife into the wood and said, "This is forever. Even if the tree dies, the mark stays." I found the spot. My breath hitched. Right next to our faded, weathered letters, there was a new carving. Fresh. Raw. The sap was still oozing from the open wound in the wood. E & C. It wasn't just a replacement. It was an erasure. A scorching heat rose in my throat. It wasn't sadness anymore. It was a violation. He had brought her to our sanctuary. He had overwritten our history while the ink on our breakup was barely dry. I took my car keys out of my pocket. I opened the small penknife attached to the keychain. I didn't think. I just acted. I pressed the blade into the wood, right over the E & C. I slashed an X through it. I gouged it deep, watching wood chips fall to the ground like dead leaves. "Hey!" I froze. Ethan and Chloe were walking toward me. They were holding hands. "What do you think you are doing?" Ethan demanded. His face was a mask of annoyance, the kind you wear when a fly won't stop buzzing. "I am editing," I said, my voice shaking with a manic sort of adrenaline. "You missed a spot." Chloe stepped forward. She looked at the slashed bark, then at me. She laughed, a high, tinkling sound that grated on my exposed nerves. "Oh, honey," she said. "That is so sad. You are literally carving your desperation into a tree." "This was my spot," I said. "This was my memory." "Was," Chloe corrected. She reached out and touched the fresh carving I had just defaced. "Now it is ours. Everything that was yours is mine now. The apartment. The friends. The favorite spots. Even the man." She stepped closer, invading my personal space. I could smell her expensive perfume. It smelled like victory and vanilla. "Why don't you just disappear?" she whispered. "Nobody wants you here." She reached for my hand, trying to snatch the knife. "Give me that," she snapped. "Before you hurt yourself." "Don't touch me," I said. I jerked my hand back. It was a reflex. A defensive flinch. But Chloe was wearing heels on uneven roots. She stumbled. Her arms flailed, grasping at empty air. "Ah!" She fell backward. Her head hit the trunk of the willow tree with a sickening crack-a sound too loud for something so soft. She crumpled to the ground, motionless. "Chloe!" Ethan screamed her name. He didn't run. He flew. He dropped to his knees beside her, gathering her into his arms. "Chloe? Baby? Can you hear me?" He looked up at me. His eyes were wild. Terrifying. "What did you do?" he roared. "I... she slipped," I stammered, my blood running cold. "I didn't push her. I swear." "I saw you!" Ethan yelled. "I saw you shove her! You are insane, Ava! You are actually insane!" He turned back to Chloe, stroking her cheek with trembling hands. "Wake up. Please, wake up." Chloe groaned. Her eyelids fluttered. A small trickle of blood appeared at her hairline, stark against her pale skin. I took a step forward. "Is she okay? Let me help." Ethan shot up. He shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled back, catching myself on the tree I had just defaced. "Get away from us," he spat. The venom in his voice was lethal. "Don't you ever come near her again. Don't you ever come near me." "Ethan, it was an accident..." "We are done," he said, each word a hammer blow. "We are completely, thoroughly done. You are dead to me, Ava. Do you hear me? Dead." He turned his back on me to tend to the woman who had stolen my life. I stood there, leaning against the ruined tree, watching the man I had loved for seven years treat me like a monster. And in that moment, the last thread holding me together finally snapped.