THE COST OF REVENGE

JAKE!

“Jake?”

The name slipped from my lips before I could stop it, just as I opened the door of the restroom.

He turned, his face unreadable, as if caught in something trivial. But it wasn’t trivial—it was my world falling apart. His arms were still wrapped around her, and the lipstick she wore was smudged, the same deep red now smeared across his lips.

I blinked, my heart hammering in my chest, hoping I’d misinterpreted the scene. But there was no mistaking it. He was kissing her—Amanda, his secretary.

I stared at them, my breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Her hands lingered on his chest, possessive, as she pulled back slightly to glance at me. Amanda didn’t even look startled. If anything, she seemed... smug.

“Jake,” I repeated, this time louder, the word trembling as if it would crumble under the weight of my disbelief. “What is this?”

Still, he said nothing. He just stood there, his dark eyes locked on mine, cold and detached, as if my pain didn’t matter.

The silence was louder than any confession. It crushed me, shattered something inside that I couldn’t even name.

I gripped my clutch tighter, the edges pressing into my palms. “Say something,” I demanded, but my voice cracked. My tears were threatening to spill, but I refused to let them fall here—not in front of them.

Amanda adjusted her blouse, her movements slow and deliberate, her expression unbothered. “We didn’t expect you back so soon, Clara” she said, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The tears burned my eyes, but I spun on my heels and stormed out, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t care who saw me, who heard me. My heels clicked loudly against the tiled floors as I pushed through the crowd of employees mingling at the event.

It hit me then, the full picture. This wasn’t just any gathering. This was the end-of-year party hosted by Titan Industries—Jake’s Dad company, where he was the CEO. The man I’d trusted, my husband of 4 years, the man I thought I knew, had betrayed me in the most public way possible.

And the worst part? I worked there too. I was part of this company, part of his world. I’d been nothing but supportive, standing by his side, helping build this empire while sacrificing my own dreams. And now, this?

By the time I reached a taxi, my makeup was ruined, streaks of mascara marking my cheeks. I slumped into the seat. My sobs came in waves, uncontrollable and raw.

I couldn’t go home. Not now. Not to the house we shared, the place that now felt tainted. I needed someone—anyone—to make sense of this for me.

Without thinking, I told the driver to head to the only home I had left: my mom. She was all I had, my last piece of family, and the only person I trusted.

When I reached the hospital, the smell of antiseptic hit me, grounding me in reality. I made my way through the familiar hallways to her room. She was still there, lying in the bed, her frail frame almost lost in the white sheets.

I sat down beside her, taking her hand in mine. It was cold, and I pressed it between my own, trying to draw some warmth, some comfort.

“Mom,” I whispered, the tears returning. “I don’t know what to do.”

The steady beep of the monitors was the only response. She was asleep, as usual, her body too weak to stay awake for long. But just being near her, holding her hand, gave me a sliver of comfort.

The door opened, and Dr. Evans walked in. He gave me a kind smile, though his eyes carried the weight of someone who had to deliver difficult news far too often.

“Clara,” he said gently. “Your mom is responding to the treatment. Slowly, but it’s progress.”

I nodded, clutching her hand tighter. “That’s good,” I said, though my voice felt hollow.

“There’s just one thing,” he added, hesitating. “The payment for her monthly treatment. It was due four days ago—$8,500.”

I nodded again, remembering it totally skipped my mind.

After he left, I turned back to my mom, leaning my head against her arm. “I’ll fix this, Mom,”. “I’ll fix everything.”

The next morning, I approached Titan Industries with heavy eyes and a hollow chest. The sleepless night had left me feeling drained, but I was determined to bury the previous evening's betrayal, at least while at work. I needed my job now more than ever.

As I neared the entrance, something felt off. The usual nods from the security team were replaced with stiff, impersonal stances. Then, one of them stepped forward, blocking my path.

“Excuse me, ma’am. You’re not allowed inside,” the guard said firmly.

“What do you mean I’m not allowed inside?” I asked, my voice rising as panic surged through me.

The guards remained silent, their stoic expressions fueling my frustration. I pushed forward, determined to get answers, but they didn’t budge.

“Is this some kind of mistake?” I demanded, my voice breaking. A crowd of my colleagues began to gather, whispering among themselves.

Moments later, HR, the head of human resources, appeared, holding a brown envelope. His face carried a mix of awkwardness and discomfort, but his silence was deafening as he handed me the envelope.

“What’s this?” I asked, my trembling hands tearing it open. Inside were two documents.

I unfolded the first sheet, and the bold headline hit me like a slap to the face: Termination of Employment.

The words blurred as tears pooled in my eyes, but I forced myself to read. My heart sank further when I saw Jake’s signature at the bottom. It was a personal attack. The letter referred to me as “a barren woman,” claiming I wasn’t even worth keeping around because I couldn’t “give him a child, not even at sixty.”

I felt my legs wobble as the humiliation sunk in. He’d made my personal struggle public, weaponized it against me, and made sure everyone knew. Tears streamed down my cheeks, smudging my makeup yet again.

I tried to steady myself, but my fingers found the second document—a divorce paper. The words jumped out at me: Irreconcilable differences.

My knees buckled. I sat down right there on the cold pavement, the weight of it all crushing me. “Why?” I whispered, but no one answered.

“Why can’t I at least get my salary?” I asked HR my voice raw from holding back sobs.

“It’s company policy,” he said, his tone cold and detached. “If your employment is terminated before the end of a working cycle, you forfeit your pay.”

I stared at him in disbelief. My mother’s hospital bills—how was I supposed to survive? How could Jake do this to me?

Before I could fully process the betrayal, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was the hospital.

“Clara?” Dr. Evans’s voice came through the line, calm yet serious.

“Yes,” I croaked, wiping my tears away, even though they kept falling.

“I’m sorry to inform you that we’ll need to discharge your mother today. Your payment window has expired, and we can no longer keep her here.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head as though he could see me. “You can’t just discharge her like that. She’s still recovering!”

“I understand,” he said sympathetically, “but there’s nothing more we can do unless the outstanding balance is paid immediately.”

His words felt like a dagger to my chest. I dropped the phone, staring blankly at the divorce papers in my hand. Everything I’d worked for, everything I’d sacrificed, was gone.

Jake hadn’t just betrayed me—he’d taken everything.

I arrived at the hospital, my heart pounding and my mind in disarray. The image of the divorce papers and the humiliation outside Titan Industries lingered, making each step feel heavier than the last. But I shoved those thoughts aside. My mother needed me now. She was the only family I had left.

After settling the necessary discharge paperwork with the little money I had managed to gather, which was barely half of what I was supposed to pay, I wheeled my mother out. She looked frail and fragile, her once-vibrant face now pale and sunken. I forced a smile as I leaned over her.

“We’re going home, Mama,” I said softly, though my voice cracked. She looked up at me with tired eyes and nodded weakly.

By the time we arrived at the small apartment, my mother’s breathing had grown more labored. I set her up on the bed, adjusting the pillows to make her more comfortable.

“There you go,” I whispered, brushing her hair from her forehead. “Home sweet home. Just rest now, okay?”

She didn’t respond, only closed her eyes as if the effort to speak was too much. I sat beside her, watching her chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock.

I stood to get her some water, but as I turned, I heard a sound that stopped me cold. A sharp, strangled gasp.

“Mama?” I spun around, rushing to her side. Her eyes were wide, and she was gasping for air, clutching at her chest.

“Mama, no, no, no!” I screamed, shaking her gently. “Stay with me!”

Panic set in as I fumbled to remember anything—anything—that could help. I tried to tilt her head back, searching for signs of life, but her breathing grew more erratic.

“Help! Somebody help!” I cried, my voice echoing through the small apartment.

A few neighbors burst through the door, drawn by my frantic screams. One of them, an older man named Mr. Harris, tried to assist me.

“Lay her flat!” he said, but the words barely registered. My hands trembled as I followed his instructions, my heart racing faster than I thought humanly possible.

We tried everything we could, but I could feel her slipping away. Her gasps slowed, then stopped altogether.

“No, no, no!” I sobbed, shaking her limp body as though I could will her back to life. “Mama, don’t leave me!”

The room fell silent, the neighbors’ murmurs fading into the background. My vision blurred as I sank to the floor, leaning against the wall. My head lolled to the side, and I stared blankly at the lifeless form of my mother.

It felt surreal, like a scene ripped straight from a movie. Only this wasn’t a movie. This was my life.

She was gone.

I sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of her death pressing down on me like a suffocating fog. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn’t even muster the strength to wipe them away.

In the span of 24 hours, I’d lost everything—my marriage, my job, my dignity, and now, my mother.

I was utterly, completely alone