She Ruined Me, Now It's My Turn

I stood outside the convenience store, holding a large bouquet, waiting for my driver.

"Mom, that man looks so sad."

A child's voice made me look up.

A little girl, about seven or eight, was tugging at a woman's sleeve, staring at me with pity. "Mom, that man only has one eye... Is he selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

The woman turned around.

Audrey.

My first love.

The one who cost me my right eye.

She recognized me instantly. That face I once adored flashed with shock before settling into a condescending pity.

"Aaron?" She took a step closer, staring at my eye patch. "Is that really you? What happened to your eye?"

I didn't answer.

Audrey's eyebrows lifted slightly, as if my silence annoyed her.

The little girl was already pulling money from her pocket, standing on tiptoe. "Mister, how much for the flowers? I'll take all of them."

"Not for sale," I said flatly.

Audrey's expression shifted. She put on that familiar concerned tone, the one that used to fool everyone. "Aaron, you don't have to pretend with me. After everything we've been through, if you're in trouble, I'll help you."

Help me.

Had she forgotten?

Wasn't she the one who ruined me?

And now she stood there pretending to care.

It was almost funny.

"Let me give you a ride home," Audrey said, already making the decision for me.

The girl chimed in, "Yeah, mister! Let us take you. Don't be embarrassed—my mom's the kindest person!"

The kindest person.

I shook my head. No need. I could get home on my own.

I thought my reluctance was obvious, but Audrey didn't seem to notice.

She sighed, disappointment written across her face. "If only you hadn't been so stubborn back then, if you'd just accepted my help, you wouldn't have ended up like this."

Ended up like this.

"Is that really the issue?" I lifted my head, my remaining eye locking onto hers. "Was it really about me refusing help?"

From the beginning, it was always about her—trampling my feelings, humiliating me, watching me suffer through that nightmare.

Audrey's face tightened.

A sharp honk cut through the tension.

A white sedan pulled up beside us. The window rolled down, revealing a sharp, polished face.

Colin Jensen.

Audrey's husband.

The man who stole her from me—one of the reasons I became like this.

"Aaron?" He sounded surprised. "Long time no see."