My Success Is The Best Revenge, Darling

Ava POV

The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed with a malice that drilled straight into my skull.

They hummed at a frequency that made my headache throb in time with my pulse.

I hadn't pushed her.

I swore it to the silence of the room.

But in the chaos, I had tripped over a root while trying to back away from Ethan's rage. I had twisted my ankle and scraped my arms raw.

Not that anyone cared.

I lay in the narrow bed in the curtained ER cubicle. I had been here for three hours.

And still, Ethan hadn't come.

He was in the next wing, probably holding Chloe's hand while she got a band-aid for a bump that was likely smaller than my broken heart.

The curtain ripped open.

It wasn't Ethan. It was Maya. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide with fury.

"Tell me you didn't do it," she said, breathless.

"I didn't," I said, my voice raspy and weak. "She tried to grab my keys. She slipped."

Maya let out a shaky breath and collapsed into the plastic chair.

"That isn't the story Ethan is spinning. He is telling everyone you ambushed them. He even called his lawyer, Ava. He is talking about pressing assault charges."

I stared at the ceiling tiles. Counted the dots.

One, two, three.

"He left me there," I whispered, the realization tasting like ash. "I couldn't walk. He just... he scooped her up and walked away. He didn't even look back to see if I was okay."

Maya reached out and squeezed my hand. Her grip was tight, grounding.

"He is trash, Ava. I tried to stay neutral because of the group, but this? This is evil."

"Is she hurt?"

"She has a mild concussion. But she is milking it for everything it is worth. She is posting selfies from the hospital bed with the caption 'Survivors'."

I laughed. It hurt my chest. "Survivors."

"What are you going to do?" Maya asked.

I sat up. The pain in my ankle was sharp, but the clarity in my mind was sharper.

"I am done being the villain in his story," I said. "I am done being the pathetic ex. I am erasing myself."

"What do you mean?"

"I am going to Portland. Tonight. My parents are picking me up. I am changing my number. I am deleting my socials. I am going to be a ghost."

Maya looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. "Good. Go. Become someone he can never touch again."

My parents arrived an hour later.

My father didn't say a word. He just hugged me so hard I thought my ribs would crack. My mother packed my bag with trembling hands.

"We are taking you home," she said.

I spent two days at their house, healing. I purged my life. I donated my clothes. I burned the letters. I packed two suitcases with only the things that felt like me, not us.

But there was one last obligation.

A family gathering for my cousin's graduation. It had been planned for months. My parents begged me to go, just for an hour, to show face. To show I wasn't broken.

"Ethan will be there," I said. "His family is invited."

"Don't let him think he chased you away," my father said. "Let him see you standing tall before you go."

So I went.

It was in a rented hall downtown. I stood by the punch bowl, feeling like an intruder in my own life.

Ethan walked in with Chloe.

She had a small bandage on her forehead, worn like a badge of honor. He had his arm around her waist-protective, possessive.

He saw me. His eyes narrowed.

He steered Chloe away, as if I were contagious.

I watched them. I watched how he laughed at her jokes-jokes that weren't funny. I watched how he catered to her, getting her drinks, pulling out her chair.

My mother stood beside me. "He looks happy," she said, her voice bitter.

"He isn't happy," I said quietly. "He is winning. There is a difference."

"Do you still love him?"

I looked at Ethan. Really looked at him.

The way his suit fit perfectly. The way he smiled with his teeth but not his eyes.

"No," I said. And I meant it. "I don't think I have loved him for a long time. I was just addicted to the pain."

The air shattered.

A loud boom shook the floor beneath our feet.

Glass exploded. People screamed.

A massive chandelier near the center of the room swung violently and detached from the ceiling.

A gas heater for the buffet table had malfunctioned.

A ball of fire erupted near the head table.

Right where Ethan and Chloe were standing.