You counted the days, drawing a red circle around every date that brought you closer to his promise. Before he left, he told you, “When I come back, you’ll be my wife.” His words were a light at the end of a long tunnel, and you wrapped your heart around them, weaving small dreams out of white lace.

A year and a half passed. Long, exhausting months—but to you, they were sacred. Every message, every photo he sent was a breath of hope. Each night, you told yourself that patience would be rewarded—that soon, you’d stand before a mirror in the wedding dress you had imagined a thousand times.

When he finally returned, your heart raced ahead of your steps. You thought he would smile at you as he had promised, that he would say the words you’d been longing to hear. But he didn’t.

He stood there—with her. Your childhood friend. Her smile faint, his hand wrapped around hers.

Words froze in your throat. How could he forget everything you shared? How could you wait for him, only for him to return with her?

You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry in front of them. It's time for revenge