Page 161 of The Revenge Game
There’s a weird sizzling noise in the background, followed by multiple alarmed voices speaking at once.
“Uh…I’ll have to fill in all the details later. I’m at the hospital right now,” Leo says, his voice breathless and distracted, accompanied by what sounds suspiciously like a fire alarm going off.
“Thehospital?”
“I’ve really got to go. Talk later.”
And the phone goes dead.
I stare at my phone, my mind immediately spinning scenarios that get progressively more ridiculous.
Did Leo’s revenge somehow involve physical harm? That doesn’t sound like him. He’s more the type to destroy someone’s reputation via carefully orchestrated data leaks, not actually hurt someone. Then again, I thought I was the type to stick to anonymous technological pranks and look how that turned out.
I guess revenge has a way of taking on a life of its own. And I’m hardly in the position to judge someone else’s revenge plot going sideways.
The sound of Justin cursing at what I assume is an uncooperative shelf draws me back inside. His mom’s laughing, and I can’t help smiling as I walk toward the sounds.
Leo’s dramatic revenge story will have to wait. I’ve got my own happy ending to focus on, complete with the love of my life doing battle with home repairs.
Because it turns out karma had a better plan for me all along. Instead of revenge, she gave me a boyfriend who apparently thinks screwdrivers are optional tools. I lean against the doorframe, watching him wrestle with a hammer, smiling.
He’s what I want for the rest of my life. Not the perfect image I once thought I needed to destroy, but the gloriously flawed reality that somehow healed parts of me I didn’t realize were broken.
Apparently, the best plans are actually the ones that fall spectacularly apart, leaving something infinitely more valuable in their place.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Justin
“Are you ready for this?” Leo’s deep voice booms into my ear from my phone.
I blow out a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.”
When I came up with my idea for what I’m about to do this morning, Leo was the first person I contacted. I knew I’d need a good wingman and that Leo would be up for the task.
Leo’s become a good friend over the past two years. Despite the unorthodox beginning of Andrew and my relationship, he’s never been anything but one hundred percent supportive of us.
Besides, given his own misadventures in revenge led to an extremely unlikely outcome, he completely understands how sometimes the best things in life come from our worst plans.
Which hopefully isn’t an appropriate motto for today. I’m aiming for good things to come from well-laid plans.
“Good luck with everything,” Leo says.
“Thanks.”
I finish the call and then lean back in my chair, surveying my office.
My promotion to deputy head of sales means I now have my own office next to Roger’s. My décor has definitely changed from my cubicle. I still have one lonely Houston Texans pennant, but it’s overshadowed by all the photos that line my walls.
There’s Andrew and me sharing ice cream in Paris, both of us wearing identical brain-freeze expressions. Cassie and Tabitha lounging next to Andrew’s laptop while he tries to work. Us wrapped in scarves at the Christmas markets in Vienna, my nose red from mulled wine and happiness.
We lived together in my apartment for the first year of our relationship. While it might have seemed ridiculous for a multi-millionaire like Andrew to live in such a modest apartment, it had so many memories for us and Cassie and Tabitha were settled there, so moving seemed pointless.
But then Andrew visited me one Saturday morning at Second Chances and met Moose for the first time, and it was instant forever love for both of them.
Unfortunately, my apartment wasn’t big enough to cope with a hundred-and-fifty-pound mastiff, so we found a Victorian townhouse in Richmond with high ceilings and a sprawling garden that backs onto Richmond Park. The previous owners had maintained a pristine lawn, but within weeks, Moose had pretty much destroyed it.
