The Soufflé of Sweet Revenge

Lan

oxed up represented a piece of myself I had lost, or rather, given away, for him. The old pastry books I' d stopped reading, the worn-out running shoes gathering dust

erson, called me into her office. "Emma, I' m so sorry to see you go," she began, her

for the usual qu

ing Frankie Patton with him. Such a strong team. And you, of course, are the supportive fiancé, going along for the ride

e as the "supportive fiancé," the tag-along. He had even tried to secure me a place i

anned to use me, again, as his backup, his insurance policy, while openly pursuing her. I was

love. You could say that." There was no point in correctin

was low-key, just colleagues, a quiet send-off. I sat in a booth, sipping a

us to the small gathering of my colleagues. They heade

air. "I told you, she' s too heartbroken to show her face in pu

his voice dropping, but I could still hear him. "Honestly, I wasn't even going to tell you this, but I had Emma put in fo

admitted it. The word hung in the air, a final, defi

ing ahead. But really, you underestimate me. I' m not just 'good,' I'm the best. And yo

entangled herself from Collin, then, with a calculated move, she "accidentally"

eyes, however, glittered with malicious pleasu

ht. A sharp pain shot through my ankle. I looked down. A piec

e of my colleagues cried

baby! Are you alright? Did she hurt you?" He pulled her close, examining he

!" my colleague exclaim

p being so dramatic. It's just a scratch. Frankie, are you sure you're okay? This is exac

. Pure, unadulterated fury. He didn't see my injury. He didn't hear my colleague's

slap echoed in the suddenly silent pu

his face. "You BITCH!" he roared. "That's it! We are done! Finished! For good this time!" He grabbed Frankie's arm

e pain in my heart was gone. Replaced by a strange, exhilar

ight. As the plane ascended, leaving the glittering lights of Austin behind, a tiny spark of hope ignited within me.