Chapter 12: A Friend’s Encouragement

Having taken a deep, steadying breath, Emily adjusted the sleeves of her silk shirt and made her way toward the café. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries almost caught her off guard, mingling with the torrent of emotions swirling inside her.

Seated by the window, Gift cradled a hot cappuccino with manicured fingers. The sunlight bathed her face in a warm, golden glow that radiated absolute confidence—a quality Emily sometimes envied. As soon as Gift spotted her, she beamed, "Emily, darling, you look amazing as always. Come, sit down." Clutching her purse tightly, Emily slid into the chair across from her. Today, she was determined to have this conversation; she needed certainty. Yet as Gift tilted her head, lost in thought, Emily exhaled slowly, "You already know what it is." With a relaxed grin, Gift sipped her coffee. "David?" Emily nodded. "And Jane as well." Gift's smirk widened. "Oh, dearest—are you feeling remorse?" Emily paused, wrestling with the guilt that had crept in at the worst times. "I don't know," she finally admitted, "I did what I had to do."

Gift leaned forward from her cup, her tone firm. "Exactly right. And remember what I told you: 'Revenge is best served cold.'" Emily swallowed hard. "Gift, I had Jane imprisoned—I acted hurt, said she did it."

"And she should have it," Gift replied steadily. "That woman was sleeping with your husband, Emily. You acted as any woman of integrity would. Would she have spared you? She was taking care of him while you were left to clean up the mess."

A flicker of anger flashed in Emily's eyes as she recalled Jane's pleading gaze. Though Jane had been pitied by some, Emily felt nothing but hardened resolve. "And then…" Emily began, trailing off as Gift grinned knowingly. "Then you slept with someone else and told David to handle it."

Emily's fists curled into tight balls. "Was that wrong?" she asked.

"Wrong? No—it was brilliant," Gift sneered. "David made you feel exactly what you felt. And better yet, he paid attention. He got wounded, didn't he?"

Emily's lips parted to speak, but silence swallowed her as emotions overwhelmed her. She had craved strength, to finally get even—and David, wracked with guilt and desperate to make things right, had followed her lead.

Gift squeezed Emily's hand across the table. "Sweetheart, listen. Men like David must learn they can't act entirely on their own. He treated you with contempt; he strayed, and you turned the tables."

Emily exhaled shakily. "But what if…"

"What if what?" Gift interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "What if you go too far?"

Laughing softly, Gift shook her head. "Emily, darling, you didn't go too far. David didn't, and Jane hasn't reset her act. You merely gave them a taste of their own medicine."

Emily fell silent, absorbing her friend's measured tone, which made everything seem so logical, so inevitable. She had acted out of self-interest, not simple resentment.

After a long pause, Gift leaned back and asked, "Now, tell me—would you act differently if you had the chance to go back?"

Emily considered the image of Jane confined in a jail cell, her life shattered, and recalled the look of horror in a man's eyes when David had confronted him. And she thought of David himself—his gaze a mix of sorrow, remorse, and something like fear. Slowly, a small smile tugged at her lips. "No," she said more firmly than before.

Gift clapped her hands together, and Emily felt a wave of relief. "What would you be without your friends?" Gift teased. "You'd be utterly lost, darling." For the first time in years, Emily felt that truth. She stirred her coffee slowly, watching the creamy swirl blend with the dark liquid—a ritual that made her cup taste unexpectedly rich. Gift's words echoed in her mind, reinforcing what she knew deep down: she had done what had to be done. Yet a small doubt nibbled at the edges of her thoughts as she glanced up at Gift, whose assured, unflappable demeanor made everything seem justified.

"I guess you're right," Emily finally conceded.

"Of course I am," Gift replied with a sarcastic smile. Emily traced the edge of her cup with her eyes. "David isn't the same anymore—he sees me differently now."

"Good," Gift said clearly. "He needs to. He now realizes you're not that feeble little wife he thought he could cheat on. He thought he could humiliate you, but you reminded him who you are."

Emily pursed her lips. "But do you believe he regrets it?"

Gift rolled her eyes in mild annoyance. "Regret alone isn't enough, Emily. People often regret things, but that won't change their behavior. What matters is that he's now terrified of losing you. And that, my dear, is power."

Emily mulled this over. Surely, David was different now that everything had come to light. He chose his words more carefully, argued less—he acted as if he feared what she might do next. Wasn't that what she had wanted? She exhaled and turned her head. "It's funny, you know? How he used to fear leaving me, worry about being replaced… Now, the tables have turned."

Gift leaned forward, her eyes glittering. "He's the one who's afraid now."

The idea sank in slowly, a clear shift in the balance of power. Gift laughed warmly. "That's why I love you, Emily. You've always had that fire inside you—only the perfect betrayal could have brought it out."

Emily half-smiled. "Then, I suppose I should be grateful to Jane."

"Oh, she helped you out," Gift cackled. "She's finally beginning to see how foolish it was to think she could steal what was yours from that jail cell."

Savoring the moment, Emily sipped her coffee gently. It was strange how the bitterness of the past melted away when she viewed it through Gift's eyes. "I doubt she ever expected me to fight back," Emily confessed softly.

"That was her fault—and David's, too," Gift smirked.

Setting her cup down, Emily's mind cleared further. "I won't let anyone walk over me again."

Gift clattered her drink container against the table in approval. "That's the spirit."

A profound peace settled over Emily—she had reclaimed command of her life. "What would I be without my friends?" she mused.

"You'd be lost, absolutely lost, darling," Gift replied with a smile that warmed Emily's heart.

As Emily stirred her coffee once more, watching the creamy swirls dissolve into the dark liquid, she felt her resolve solidify. Gift's words resonated deeply—she had done what needed to be done. Yet a small part of her still wondered, as she gazed at Gift's steady expression, if everything had truly been justified.

Releasing a long, steady breath, Emily admitted, "I guess you're right."

Gift's sarcastic smile confirmed it. "Of course I am."

Emily traced the rim of her cup with her eyes. "David has not been the same since—he regards me differently."

"Good. He needs to. He now understands that you are not the feeble little wife he thought he could cheat on. He thought he could humiliate you, but you reminded him exactly who you are."

Emily pursed her lips, then asked quietly, "But do you think he regrets it?"

"Regret alone isn't enough, Emily. True remorse is what counts. People regret things, but that won't change their ways. What matters is that he's now terrified of losing you—and that, my dear, is power."

Emily considered this. Since everything had come out, David had become more cautious—he watched his words, argued less, and acted as though every step might provoke you. Wasn't that what she had desired?

She exhaled, turning her head thoughtfully. "It's funny—fearing he'd leave, worrying about being replaced… Now, the tables have turned."

Gift leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "He's the one who's afraid now."

A small, satisfied smile played on Emily's lips as the shift in power became undeniable.

"That's why I love you, Emily," Gift said warmly. "You've always had that fire inside you—only the perfect betrayal could ignite it."

Emily nodded slowly, then added, "I suppose I should be grateful to Jane."

Gift laughed, a bright, knowing sound. "Oh, she helped you out, all right. She's beginning to see how foolish it was to try and steal what was yours."

Taking another sip of her coffee, Emily felt the bitterness of the past dissolve under the gentle warmth of the present. "I doubt she ever expected me to fight back," she murmured.

"That was her fault," Gift replied, "and David's too. But you—you showed him exactly what he's done."

Emily set her cup down with newfound clarity. "I won't let anyone think they can walk over me again."

"Exactly," Gift clattered her drink container in agreement. "That's the spirit."

A rare peace enveloped Emily. She had reclaimed her strength, taken control of her life, and wouldn't let it slip away. As she watched Gift's lips curve into a slow, satisfied grin, she realized how far she had come.

Stirring her coffee once more, Emily murmured softly, "I have to admit, there were times I wondered if I'd gone too far."

Gift sneered playfully, "Gone too far? Emily, darling, you didn't go far enough. If it were me, Jane wouldn't just be in prison—she'd be rotting."

Emily laughed involuntarily and shook her head. "You are cold-blooded."

"Someone has to be," Gift winked.

Emily leaned back, exhaling slowly. "You know, David is different now. He hardly argues with me anymore."

"Good," Gift said with a smirk. "He's watching his words—he's afraid of what you might do next."

Emily drummed her fingers on her cup. "It's funny, isn't it? The fear of losing me… now it's his turn to be afraid."

Gift leaned in, her eyes glittering. "That's right. You're no longer the victim—you're in control."

Those words settled deep within Emily. Control—that was what she had craved all along: to reclaim her power, to remind David, Jane, and even herself that she was not to be used. A small grin danced on her lips. "I guess you're right."

Gift clapped her hands, beaming. "Of course I am. And this is only the beginning."

Emily raised an eyebrow as Gift sipped her coffee, nodding. "David isn't the same—he now sees that I'm not weak."

"Good," Gift replied clearly. "He needs to understand that, and the fear of losing you is his new reality. That, my dear, is true power."

Emily pondered this, noting how David had grown cautious—choosing his words, arguing less, and acting as if every move could be threatening. That was exactly what she had wanted.

With a deep, calming breath, Emily mused aloud, "It's funny—you once worried about being replaced, and now…" She trailed off, acknowledging how drastically the tables had turned.

Gift leaned forward, eyes alight with warmth. "He's the one who's afraid now."

The shift in balance was undeniable. Emily felt a newfound sense of authority settle over her as she sipped her coffee, stirred purposefully, watching the creamy swirls melt into the dark liquid—a small ritual that now tasted sweeter than ever. Gift's steady words fortified her, confirming that she had done what was necessary.

A lingering thought crept in as she looked at Gift, whose expression remained confidently unflappable.

Finally, Emily exhaled softly, "I guess you are right."

"Of course I am," Gift replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Emily's gaze drifted to the rim of her cup. "David has changed—he sees me differently now."

"Good," Gift said, "because he needs to. He now knows you're not the feeble little wife he thought he could cheat on. You've reminded him exactly who you are."

Emily pursed her lips. "But do you think he regrets it?"

"Regret alone isn't enough, Emily. Remorse is what matters. People often regret things, but that won't change them. What counts is that he's now terrified of losing you—and that, my dear, is power."

Emily considered this. Since everything came out, David had become more cautious—watching his words, arguing less, as if he feared what she might do next.

She turned her head slowly and murmured, "It's strange—worrying about being replaced… and now, he's the one who's afraid."

Gift leaned forward, eyes glittering warmly. "Exactly. That's why I love you, Emily. You've always had that fire inside you—only the perfect betrayal could have brought it out."

A small smile blossomed on Emily's face. "Then maybe I should be grateful to Jane."

Gift laughed. "Oh, she helped you out—she's finally realizing how foolish it was to think she could steal what was yours."

Sipping her coffee gently, Emily marveled at how the bitterness of the past seemed to dissolve in the warmth of the present. "I doubt she ever expected me to fight back," she admitted.

"That was her fault," Gift smirked. "And David's actions don't excuse mine either."

Setting her cup down, Emily's mind felt clear. "I won't let anyone walk over me again."

"That's the spirit," Gift said, clattering her container lightly on the table.

A profound peace washed over Emily as she realized she had reclaimed her life. "What would I be without my friends?" she mused softly.

"You'd be lost, darling—absolutely lost," Gift replied, her smile tender.

Emily stirred her coffee deliberately, watching the creamy swirls blend into the dark liquid, a small ritual of renewal. Gift's words echoed in her mind, solidifying the truth she'd known all along: she had done what was necessary. Still, a subtle doubt lingered at the margins of her thoughts as she gazed at Gift's unwavering expression.

Finally, Emily released a soft breath. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," Gift said with a sly smile.

Emily traced the edge of her cup with her eyes. "David has not been the same since—he sees me differently now."

"Good," Gift replied. "He needs to understand that you're not the feeble little wife he thought he could cheat on. He thought he could humiliate you, but you reminded him who you truly are."

Emily pursed her lips and asked quietly, "But do you think he regrets it?"

Rolling her eyes, Gift replied, "Regret isn't enough, Emily. What matters is that he's now terrified of losing you. That, my dear, is power."

Emily mulled this over, noticing how David had grown cautious, his words chosen more carefully, his arguments fewer. Wasn't that exactly what she had wanted?

With a soft exhale, she mused, "It's funny—you once worried about being replaced… now he's the one who's afraid."

Gift leaned in, eyes sparkling. "He is. And that's why I love you, Emily. You've ignited that fire inside you—only betrayal of the perfect sort could bring it out."

A slow, reflective smile spread across Emily's face. "Then I suppose I should be grateful to Jane."

Gift chuckled warmly. "Oh, she played her part. She's finally seeing how absurd it was to think she could take what was yours."

Savoring the moment, Emily sipped her coffee, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. "I won't let anyone think they can walk over me again," she declared.

Gift's eyes gleamed with approval as she clattered her drink container gently. "That's the spirit, Emily."

A wave of peace, long absent, swept over her. She had reclaimed control of her life, and nothing would make her vulnerable again.

Gazing at Gift's assured, unflappable demeanor, Emily felt her resolve strengthen. "I have to admit," she murmured, "there were times I wondered if I'd gone too far."

Gift sneered playfully. "Gone too far? Emily, darling, you didn't go far enough. If it were me, Jane wouldn't just be in prison—she'd be rotting."

Emily laughed softly, shaking her head. "You are cold-blooded."

"Someone has to be," Gift winked.

Emily leaned back, exhaling slowly. "You realize, David has been different since all this. He now sees me for who I truly am."

"Good," Gift replied, "because that's exactly what he needed—to understand that you're not the weak, replaceable woman he once believed you to be."

Emily's eyes softened as she added, "But do you really think he regrets it?"

"Regret alone isn't enough, Emily," Gift said, rolling her eyes. "What counts is that he's terrified of losing you. And that, my dear, is power."

Emily considered this, noting how David now spoke more cautiously, argued less, and acted as if every word could provoke you. That was precisely what she had wanted.

"It's funny," Emily mused softly, "fearing he'd leave, worrying about being replaced… and now the tables have turned."

Gift leaned in, her eyes alight with warmth. "He is afraid now, Emily."

The balance of power had clearly shifted. Emily drummed her fingers on her cup, her confidence solidifying with each sip. "I guess you're right," she admitted quietly.

"Of course I am," Gift said with a knowing smile. "David now understands that you're not the feeble little wife he thought he could cheat on."

Emily nodded, her voice steadier. "He barely debates with me anymore, watches his words—he's scared of what I might do next."

"That's the power, my dear," Gift murmured. "You're no longer the victim—you're in control."

Those words sank deep into Emily's heart. Control was everything she had longed for—to reclaim her power, to show David, Jane, and even herself that she was not to be taken advantage of. A small grin appeared on her lips. "I think you're right."

Gift clapped her hands softly. "Absolutely. And this is only the beginning."

Emily raised an eyebrow, then sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "David isn't the same anymore; he sees me differently."

"Good," Gift said clearly. "He needs to know that you're not weak, that you're the one in charge now."

Emily's fingers curled around her cup as she considered this. "I suppose I won't let anyone walk over me again."

"That's the spirit," Gift replied. "Once you have control, you treasure it forever."

A newfound calm settled over Emily as she looked around the café. She had taken the necessary precautions to shield herself—and she wasn't going to stop now. Renewed, she lifted her head. "You know, Gift... I think you're right."

Not waiting any longer, Gift raised her cup with a wide grin. "That's my daughter!"

With fresh conviction, Emily clinked her cup against Gift's, silently promising herself that she would be ready for whatever came next.