The man I used to love broke my trust in the worst way. He took the money I saved for years. It was for my dream—a small bakery. I told him everything. He promised to help. Then one morning, he was gone. The money was gone. My dream was gone. I sat on my kitchen floor and cried until I had no tears left. I did not want to fight him. I wanted to forget him. But first, I wanted him to feel just a little bit of what I felt.
He was always proud of his house. He worked hard to buy it. He showed it off to everyone. He had a big tree in the front yard. He loved that tree the most. He said it made his house look important. So I decided to start there.
First, I found out his new routine. He went to work early. He came home late. He always parked his car under that tree. Every night, before he went to sleep, he checked his mailbox. I watched from a distance. I was patient. I dressed in dark clothes. I moved like a shadow.
One night, when the street was quiet, I took a small bottle of salt water. I walked to his tree. I dug a little hole near the roots. I poured the salt water in. Not too much. Just enough to make the tree feel sick. I did the same thing every few nights. I never got caught. The tree did not die, not fast. It just got sad. The leaves turned yellow. The branches looked tired. He noticed. He hired a man to look at it. The man said the soil was bad. He did not know why. I saw my ex-boyfriend standing in his yard, looking at his dying tree. He looked so confused. It made me feel a little better.
But that was not enough. I wanted him to feel lonely, the way he made me feel lonely.
I knew he liked a woman who lived a few houses down. He talked about her once when we were together. I watched her too. She was kind. She walked her dog every evening. One day, I left a note under her door. It was from a secret friend, I wrote. The note said: “The man in the grey house is not who he seems. He lied to someone he loved. Be careful.” I did not sign my name.
The next evening, she walked her dog on the other side of the street. She did not look at his house. He was standing by his mailbox. He waved. She did not wave back. He looked at the ground. He looked small. I watched from my car across the street. I felt a cold peace in my chest.
I did not hurt him. I did not scream at him. I just made his world a little less perfect. Little by little. Like he did to mine. I took his good luck and gave it back to the wind.
My revenge was enough. I walked away from that street, and I did not look back. I had a new plan. A new dream. And this time, I kept it for myself.