Vendetta

Chris didn’t move for almost a full minute after you walked away. The laughter around him died down slowly, people drifting back to their drinks, already forgetting him. His hands stayed clenched at his sides, knuckles white, the old familiar heat crawling up his neck.

He pulled his phone out and scrolled until he found the contact. The call connected on the second ring.

“Yeah?” The voice on the other end was low, calm, almost bored.

“It’s me,” Chris said, stepping outside so no one would hear. His voice shook. “You still do that thing? The voice thing?”

A short pause. “Depends who’s asking and why.”

Chris’s thumb moved fast. He opened the photo he’d taken earlier—Hailey standing next to you near the entrance, smiling at something you’d said, the dress tight across her chest and hips. He sent it without a word.

Thirty seconds passed. Then the man on the phone exhaled once, soft.

“Pretty,” he said. “Married to the guy who just made you look stupid in front of half your graduating class, I’m guessing.”

Chris’s jaw tightened. “Can you do it or not?”

“I can do it,” the voice answered. “I can make her forget she even has a husband for a while. Or remember him and still choose to kneel anyway. Depends how mean you want to be.” Another quiet beat. “Send me the address. I’ll be there in twenty.”

Chris lowered the phone, staring at the picture still open on the screen. Hailey’s face, bright and completely unaware, filled the frame. He smiled for the first time since you’d walked away.

Inside, you stood at the bar with Hailey’s hand in yours, ordering another round. You felt lighter than you had in years. For the first time, Chris had looked small. For the first time, people had laughed at him instead of with him.