Victor had taken eleven years of my life. He mocked me behind my back. He called me “useless” while spending my money and sleeping with a younger woman in hotels I paid for.
Now he was learning the real meaning of useless.
At 2:00 p.m., my lawyer sent the final update: Victor had been detained. The passport he proudly packed was now useless. All the money he thought he stole had been traced and returned. Even the blue velvet box of cufflinks? Evidence.
I changed my phone wallpaper to the screenshot of his last arrogant message: “Goodbye, useless woman. I’ve taken everything.”
I looked at it and chuckled again.
