PART 3 OF 3 – FINALE

The Airport Meltdown

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I served mine at Terminal 3, with a side of financial ruin.

Chapter 18: The Final Countdown

Those last twelve days before Jake’s “romantic getaway” were some of the most stressful and exhilarating of my life. We had everything planned down to the minute, but there was always the risk he’d figure something out or that Vicki would slip up somehow.

Meanwhile, Jake was getting increasingly desperate about money. He kept texting me about the loan, saying things like, “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. This is about our future together.”

The audacity of this man thinking I’d go into debt for him while he was planning a luxury vacation with another woman—technically my cousin working on my behalf, but still.

I finally agreed to meet him for dinner to discuss “our relationship and the loan situation.” I chose the mid-range restaurant where we’d had our first date, partly for symbolism and partly because I knew he couldn’t afford anything fancier.

I spent extra time getting ready. Hair perfect, makeup flawless, wearing the red dress he’d always loved. When I showed up, Jake’s face lit up with hope.

We ordered food and made awkward small talk while he kept glancing at my left hand, noticing I wasn’t wearing that sad little engagement ring.

Finally, I cut to the chase. I told him I’d been thinking about our relationship, about the future, about what I really wanted.

Then I dropped the first bomb.

“I looked into the loan you wanted me to take out. I could probably get approved for $25,000.”

The relief on his face was instant. Like a drowning man spotting a lifeguard. He reached for my hand across the table, squeezing it.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I promise I’ll pay you back. This proves we’re meant to be together.”

I smiled. “There’s just one condition. I need access to all your financial records before I take out the loan. Bank statements, credit card bills, everything. Just so I understand exactly what I’m getting into.”

His face froze.

Chapter 19: The Last Few Days

Four days before the trip, Vicki played her mastercard. She called Jake crying, saying her grandmother had been hospitalized and she might need to cancel Bora Bora.

Jake panicked. Could they postpone? No, non-refundable. Could her grandmother wait? Vicki was shocked he’d suggest that. What if he went with her to see grandma instead? No, family only.

After letting him stew for 24 hours, Vicki called back with “good news.” Grandmother was stable. The trip could proceed as planned.

Jake was so relieved he sent flowers—to my new apartment, where Vicki was actually staying half the time as we prepared for the final phase.

Two days before the trip, Jake was a complete mess. The “bank” (me) still hadn’t approved his loan. He was trying to pack for Bora Bora while hiding his suitcase whenever I was home. He was juggling texts between me and Vicki, trying to keep both relationships afloat.

It was almost sad how pathetic he’d become. Almost.

The night before the big trip, I told Jake I needed space to think about our future. I was going to stay with Teresa for a few days.

His relief was visible. This solved his problem of how to leave for the airport without me asking questions.

What Jake didn’t know was that I’d already moved most of my belongings to my new apartment. I packed one suitcase with the last of my things and left.

As I was about to go, Jake hugged me tightly. “I hope you’ll have an answer about our future when I get back from my business trip on Sunday.”

The fact that he could lie to my face so convincingly after three years together still astounded me.

Chapter 20: The Morning Of

Operation Complete Destruction was officially underway.

I went straight to Teresa’s place where Vicki was waiting. We ordered pizza, opened champagne, and went over our plan one last time.

Tomorrow morning, Jake would head to the airport thinking he was about to have the romantic getaway of a lifetime. Instead, he was about to have the worst day of his life.

We barely slept that night, too wired with anticipation.

At 6:00 AM, Vicki texted Jake: “Good morning! So excited for today. Can’t wait to see you at the airport. ❤️”

Jake responded immediately: “Just finishing packing. See you at Terminal 3 at 8:30. Can’t believe we’re finally doing this.”

At 7:00 AM, we watched through the apartment building security app as Jake left with his suitcase, looking happier than I’d seen him in months.

The minute his car pulled away, Teresa, Vicki, and I got into Teresa’s car and headed to the airport ourselves. Not to fly anywhere—just to witness what was about to unfold.

We arrived at Terminal 3 around 8:15 and positioned ourselves at a cafe with a perfect view of the check-in counters.

Jake arrived at 8:25, looking around eagerly for Vicki. He checked his phone, texted her, then went to stand in the check-in line.

Chapter 21: The Meltdown

We watched from our hiding spot as Jake received the message.

He froze in the middle of the check-in line, staring at his phone. His face went from confusion to shock to horror in seconds.

He looked around wildly, as if expecting to see us. Tried calling Vicki immediately—straight to voicemail because she’d blocked his number. Tried calling me—same result.

Jake stepped out of the line, still staring at his phone in disbelief. He slumped onto a nearby bench, frantically typing messages that would never be delivered.

We watched this go on for almost twenty minutes. People walked past him, annoyed that he was taking up bench space during rush hour. A security guard asked if he was okay. He barely responded.

Finally, he got up and walked zombie-like toward the exit, dragging his suitcase behind him. No Bora Bora. No romantic vacation. No Vicki.

Just the slow, dawning realization that he’d been completely and utterly played.

Chapter 22: The Letter

Jake spent the entire day calling us from different numbers, leaving increasingly desperate voicemails. We ignored them all.

Phase Two of our final plan was already in motion. I’d left a carefully worded letter on the kitchen table of our old apartment, outlining exactly what we knew.

The letter included printed copies of his worst messages about me. The ones where he called me “the most hideous thing.” The one where he said he “almost gags” when I try to kiss him. The one where he called me his “Roomba that also pays rent.”

The letter explained that if he contacted me or Vicki again with any threats or harassment, the entire evidence folder would be sent to his parents, his boss, and posted publicly on social media.

Was all of this strictly necessary? Probably not. Was it deliciously satisfying after months of psychological abuse and cheating? Absolutely.

That evening, Jake showed up at the apartment to find he couldn’t get in. I’d already had the locks changed. The security camera caught his complete meltdown in the hallway as he realized just how thoroughly he’d been played.

Chapter 23: The Aftermath – Week One

Over the next few days, Jake cycled through every emotion possible.

He sent emails begging for forgiveness. Then angry ones calling us “crazy” and “cruel.” Then pitiful ones about how he’d lose his job if he couldn’t repay his debts.

None of it worked. We’d blocked him on everything.

Exactly one week after the airport incident, we executed the final part of our plan. Vicki, Teresa, and I booked ourselves into a gorgeous local spa resort for the weekend, paid for with the last of our revenge fund money.

While soaking in hot tubs and getting massages, we each posted a single photo to our social media accounts. Just us, relaxing, thriving, living our best lives.

Predictably, this triggered another round of desperate messages from Jake, now using his brother’s phone since we’d blocked all his numbers.

He couldn’t understand how we could be “so cruel and heartless.” He claimed what he’d done “wasn’t that bad” compared to how we’d “destroyed his life.”

The lack of self-awareness was truly spectacular.

Chapter 24: Moving Forward

In the months since then, Jake has tried various tactics to contact me. He even sent a letter to my parents’ house. They forwarded it to me unopened.

What he hasn’t done is repay any of the money he took from our joint account or explain to his family and friends why he suddenly had to move back in with his parents at thirty.

From what I’ve heard through mutual friends, Jake is working two jobs trying to pay off his debts. The vacation packages, flights, and hotel reservations were all non-refundable. His credit score is destroyed. His savings are gone.

Meanwhile? I’m thriving in my new apartment. I’ve been promoted at work. I’m wearing designer clothes and jewelry that technically Jake paid for. I’m planning a real vacation with Teresa and Vicki next summer—one we’ll pay for with our own money because we’re not pathetic cheaters who manipulate people.

Last week, Jake showed up at my apartment building at 3:00 AM, clearly drunk, crying into my Ring doorbell camera about how he’d “made the biggest mistake of his life” and would “do anything for another chance.”

I watched the live feed from my phone, cozy in bed, and did the only reasonable thing: sent the video to Vicki and Teresa so we could all laugh about it together. Then forwarded it to building security to have him removed from the property.

Twenty missed calls later, he finally gave up. I slept like a baby that night.