Chapter 22
Back in the city, everything seemed louder, faster. But Elena was different now. Something about those few days away with Sebastian had sharpened her perspective. She was no longer chasing peace. She was peace—rooted, certain, and unshakable.
The first thing she did upon her return was step into her office and reorganize everything. The clutter, the noise, the chaos—it had no place in her life anymore.
Her assistant, Maya, peeked in. “You’re glowing. That cabin did wonders.”
Elena laughed. “It helped me remember what matters. Time, honesty, and knowing when to say no.”
Maya nodded, setting down the schedule. “Also, you’ve got a meeting request. From Chloe.”
Elena’s hand paused on her desk. She raised an eyebrow. “Chloe?”
“Yes. She asked to speak with you—alone. Said it was urgent.”
The old Elena might have refused. Might’ve flinched, felt her chest tighten at the sound of that name. But not now. Not this version of her.
“Set it up,” she said. “I’m curious.”
The next day, Elena sat across from Chloe in a small café tucked in a quiet street. Chloe looked… different. Paler. Nervous. The confidence that once oozed from her had clearly faded.
“Elena,” she began, wringing her hands, “I know I have no right to ask for anything. But I needed to say this.”
Elena folded her arms, waiting.
“I made a mistake,” Chloe said. “A huge one. Andrew isn’t who I thought he was. He’s controlling, manipulative, and now he’s… he’s dragging me down too. I’ve lost clients. Friends. Everything.”
Elena said nothing. She simply sipped her coffee and listened.
“I just want to say I’m sorry. Truly. I hurt you, and I ruined what we had. But I never thought he’d—he’d do the same to me.”
“That’s the thing about men like him,” Elena said finally. “They don’t love. They use. And when they’re done using you, they discard you.”
Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but I had to face you and admit it. You were always stronger than me.”
Elena stood slowly, placing a few bills on the table. “I hope you figure things out, Chloe. But don’t look to me for redemption. I gave that part of myself away too many times. I’ve reclaimed it now.”
And with that, she walked out. Not out of cruelty, but out of clarity. Some bridges weren’t meant to be rebuilt.
Later that evening, Sebastian greeted her at home with a bottle of wine and a cheeky grin. “How’d it go with the traitor?”
“She’s broken,” Elena said, tossing her coat on the couch. “But not my problem anymore.”
He raised a toast. “To healing and hard boundaries.”
“To new beginnings,” she added.
As they clinked glasses, she realized she no longer carried the bitterness. The past didn’t weigh her down anymore—it simply reminded her how high she’d risen.
That night, she wrote in her journal:
“I was once the woman who waited for a man to show up. Now I show up for myself every single day.”
And that, to Elena, was the greatest revenge of all.