Part 4: The Sweetest Revenge
"Reynolds blood?" I smiled faintly, devoid of any warmth. "For the past eight years, they have carried my name—Vance. They ate food provided by the Vance family and grew up on Vance resilience. The Reynolds family never offered them a single drop of water, so don't preach to me about bloodlines."
I bent down, speaking gently to my four children. "My loves, say goodbye to this man and his mother. We are going to have Christmas dinner somewhere else. The air in here is a bit suffocating."
The four children chimed in unison, "Goodbye mister, goodbye ma'am! We're leaving!"
Their innocent, dismissive words delivered a crushing blow to whatever pride Marcus and Evelyn had left. Chloe tore the engagement ring off her finger and threw it directly at Marcus's face. "We are done. You are a disgusting monster, Marcus!" She grabbed her purse and stormed out of the house without looking back.
Marcus looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. "Cynthia... please... give me a chance to make it right... let me be a father to them..."
"A chance?" I looked down at him one last time. "You had 2,920 days to come back and look for your children. Instead, you chose to send a text message to humiliate me on Christmas Day. This is the ending you chose for yourself."
I turned around, holding my children's hands as we walked out the grand front doors. The freezing Colorado wind swept past us, but my heart was warmer than it had ever been.
The helicopter engines roared back to life, powerful and proud. As we lifted off, I looked out the window and saw Marcus kneeling in the snow, desperately clawing at the frozen ground in utter helplessness and regret. He had planned to make me the laughingstock, but in the end, he stripped himself of everything, left completely broke and isolated on a holiday meant for family.
May you like
The four children laughed and chatted, excitedly watching the town of Boulder shrink beneath them. I pulled them close, silently thanking the storms of the past. If it wasn't for Marcus's cruelty back then, the powerful, successful, and blissfully happy Cynthia of today would never have been born.
This Christmas, I didn't just survive. I won.
