Sweet Revenge

And it had worked.

But it was frightening. By the end I was crying real tears. I was in real terror. I kept imagining that at any moment Ted was going to realize that the gun had been tampered with. But he hadn’t.

Even with all the evidence we had against Ted, from my own testimony that he’d tried to kill me, to the testimony from his teenage friend—it was all circumstantial. Even if he admitted what he’d done, the court could always rule that he’d been coerced because I was pointing a gun at him.

But I had to have the gun there for a few reasons. He had to be held at bay so he wouldn’t just attack me and strangle me with his bare hands. Ted was a strong, athletic guy who kept himself in shape. He was perfectly capable of overpowering me. And the gun served as a scare tactic to get him to actually admit what he’d done. He had no reason to admit it otherwise, since I imagined his paranoia would kick in and he would assume I was wearing a wire. So, Taylor and I agreed it would be best to acknowledge this and play around with that.

And it had worked.

I asked myself a hundred times a day how it worked. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know. But it did.

Granted we had Ted for two counts of attempted murder, but it was still not murder. He had not been convicted of murder. Which meant that there was a chance—a very slim chance, but still a chance—that he would get out one day.

I just prayed that day never came.

But if it ever did, I promised myself that I would be ready.

Knowing Ted, as I did, he most likely would not survive well in prison. He was too much of an independent, free spirit. If he ever did get out he would probably be a shell of his former self. But he might surprise me.

I often wondered what it would be like to visit him in a few years just to see how he was doing. Mostly out of curiosity, but a little bit out of a desire to rub his face in it. I would most likely never do it. I was done with him. And my vengeance was finished. I had nothing else to prove to anyone.

My main job now was to be the best mother and wife I could be. And I hoped sincerely, that my boys never wanted to go meet the man their biological father was. I would tell them when they grew up a bit what he did to me. I would never hide who he was or the type of man he was for their benefit.

One day they would make up their own minds whether or not they wanted to see him.

“You ok, honey?” Taylor asked.

We were sitting at dinner. I hadn’t even realized that I’d barely touched my food or said anything for several minutes. I tried to snap out of my thoughts and engage with my family. The boys were both trying their hardest not to fall asleep after picking at their plates for a little bit and Taylor seemed to be mostly enjoying the violinist in the corner. The ambience of the restaurant was so soothing. It was relaxing. And what I’d been planning on doing for most of the vacation was just relaxing.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine.”

I started to pick at my grilled chicken, but I just wasn’t hungry any longer. Thinking about Ted often did that to me.

“Come on, out with it,” Taylor said. He leaned forward putting on his best bedside manner. “What’s on your mind?”

I sighed. “What else?”

He nodded is understanding. “You have to let it go. It’s over. It’s done. You need to move on.”

“It’s so strange. I feel like since we did that, I almost have something…I dunno… like, missing from my life, if that makes any sense.”

“You had a mission. You completed that mission. Now, it’s time to find another one.”

I laughed. “Well, I don’t have anyone else in my life I need to get revenge on.”

“That’s a good thing,” Taylor said with a smile. “You need to find another passion. What do you want to do with your life? You have your family’s company, and that is being handled as always. It’s back in excellent hands now that Ted isn’t around to mess with it. But is that what you are really passionate about doing with your time? You are in a unique position where you can basically do whatever you want that makes you happy. You don’t have to worry about income.”

I nodded. “I know. I just feel guilty…somehow. Like… I don’t deserve to be here. I didn’t deserve to get the surgery because I had money that my family left me. I almost feel like some sort of hypocrite, but does that make sense?”