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Three years later, I graduated with honors.
My impressive resume landed me a top job at
a Fortune 500 company.
Then, riding the wave of technological
innovation, I started my own business.
I didn’t return to the States for seven years.
A class reunion brought me back.
My classmates, married, with kids, some
happy, some divorced and still struggling.
Chris, still handsome but looking worn down,
showed up with a noticeably heavier Sarah.
Sarah’s eyes widened when she saw me.
“Ashley…”
I smiled. “Hi, Sarah. Long time no see.”
“What are you doing now? You look…
amazing.”
Sarah was still the same bubbly, naive girl.
Aside from the extra weight, she hadn’t
changed a bit.
She showered me with compliments.
My classmates chimed in.
“Ashley’s a CEO now! A total boss babe!”
“Ashley, let’s collaborate! Don’t forget about
us little guys, haha.”
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“Ashley, are you seeing anyone?”
They were curious about me, firing questions
left and right.
I answered them all.
Chris’s eyes never left me.
After the reunion, Sarah and Chris waited for
me outside.
Sarah said my parents missed me, wanted me
to visit.
Chris stayed silent.
Two days later, I went to their house, gifts in
hand.
My parents threw my gifts onto the porch,
slamming the door in my face.
“We don’t have a daughter! Get out!”
“Sarah may forgive you, but we never will!”
“Just die out there! Don’t ever show your
face again!”
I expected this.
No sadness, no tears.
<
I came to provoke them.
To show them their discarded daughter,
driving a luxury car, dressed impeccably,
addressed as “Ms. Ashley Davies, CEO.”
While their precious Sarah was still a mess.
They’d chosen wrong.
Even though they refused to admit it, Mom
peeking through the curtains betrayed her
true feelings.
Sarah pleaded with them to calm down.
She sent Chris out to talk to me.
He walked beside me, his tired face cautious.
“Congratulations, Ashley. I’m happy for you.
Happy? Who was he to be happy for me?
I smiled. “Thanks. You and Sarah seem
happy, too. That’s good.”
His face fell. He started complaining.
“Ashley, if you hadn’t left, maybe we could
have been together.”
دو
وو
“Sarah’s fragile. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I
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agreed to be with her.
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“She’s not like you. She’s so weak, so
dependent. I carry all the weight. That’s why I
haven’t accomplished anything.”
I looked at him. “You think Sarah’s holding
you back?”
He nodded. “If we were together, we could
have been so much more! I had good grades
too, you know. Things went downhill after I
started dating Sarah.”
“Too bad we can’t go back.”
“We can, Ashley! I’ll divorce Sarah! We
can…
وو
“What about Sarah? What about your three
kids?”
“She just wants to be a housewife. The kids
were her idea. I don’t even like kids. Your
parents have their retirement fund, they can
take care of her. We don’t have to worry
about them.”
く
“Is that so, Sarah? Did you hear that?”
Chris froze.
Behind him, Sarah’s face was a mask of rage.
She charged at him, no longer the fragile
flower, and slapped him hard across the face.
She grabbed his collar, throwing him to the
ground.
As she continued her verbal assault, I quietly
slipped away.
“You pathetic excuse for a man! Look at
yourself! Ashley would never want you!”
“She never wanted you! And now you’re
crawling back? Disgusting!”
“I could forgive you for cheating, but this? I’m
done! I’ll cripple you!”
“You useless freeloader! Living off me! And
you want to leave? Divorce me?”
“I’ll tell you what, you’ll die before you leave
me!”
“You think you can boss me around? I’IL
<
destroy you!”
Watching Chris get pummeled in my rearview
mirror…
The sting of his slap at the airport faded
away.
I called my assistant. Booked a flight back to
London.
“Ms. Davies,” she said, surprised. “I thought
you had a lot to take care of here? Is
everything resolved?”
“Yes,” I said. “Things went smoother than
expected. There’s still some loose ends, but I
don’t need to be here for that.”
I gave my assistant my old social media login.
Told her to lure Chris in.
Two weeks of carefully crafted messages,
vague promises…
Chris was hooked.
He filed for divorce, giving up everything.
Sarah fought back, enlisting my parents‘ help
to harass him. During a heated argument, my
dad had a heart attack and died.
Mom, devastated, had a stroke, leaving her
paralyzed.
Sarah, with three kids and a sick mother, had
no energy left to fight Chris. She agreed to
the divorce.
Chris, penniless, bought a one–way ticket to
London.
He lost contact with “me” the moment he
boarded the plane.
He searched, he asked around, but I was
gone.
He didn’t know I traveled constantly, flitting
between countries.
Finding me in a city of millions, with no
money, no resources…
He’d be lucky to find me in his dreams.
Years passed.
Sarah somehow got my number.
Chris was dead, she told me. Mugged for a
bag of chips in some back alley.
Mom had lingered for two years before
passing away.
Sarah had sold their house to support her
kids.
She blamed me for everything.
But wasn’t it her own choices that led to this?
“I never hurt you, Sarah,” I said. “Why do you
blame me for everything?”
She sobbed hysterically.
I hung up, blocking her number, erasing her
from my life.
Later, I stood on stage at a product launch,
presenting my latest innovation.
A reporter asked, “Ms. Davies, what’s the
secret to your success? Is there anyone you’d
like to thank?”
I smiled. “I’ve met a lot of people, faced many
challenges. I’ve had great classmates, friends,
and teachers. But if I have to thank anyone, it
would be myself.”
“Thank you, Ashley, for never giving up.
وو
“Thank you, Ashley, for your unwavering
determination.”
“Thank you, Ashley, for always loving
yourself.”
“Ashley, you’re the best.”