**Revenge**
Rodney grew up as a quiet and intelligent boy. His parents spared no expense for their only child, enrolling him in various clubs and activities to ensure he became well-rounded and highly educated. He practiced aikido, played chess, and had a talent for drawing. As he got older, he developed a passion for playing the guitar.
While his peers invited girls to the cinema, indulged in cheap wine and cigarettes, Rodney stayed home, strumming his guitar and singing in his low, husky voice.
His parents dreamed of a bright future for him. He needed to keep studying—there was nothing for him in their small hometown of fourteen thousand people. After finishing school, Rodney easily secured a place at a prestigious university in the regional capital, enrolling in the fashionable IT department.
The day before classes began, his father drove him to his aunt’s house. Her husband had passed away a year earlier, and her own children had moved on with their lives. The dorms were too noisy, too full of distractions. His mother stayed behind to avoid an emotional farewell. His father left him with some money and departed.
For the first time, Rodney was left to his own devices. His aunt took little interest in him beyond making sure he was fed and didn’t stay out too late.
Freed from parental oversight, his classmates threw themselves into reckless fun, often skipping classes. Rodney kept to himself—he’d never had friends and wasn’t one for parties. From the very first day, his attention was captured by Vanessa, a striking blonde.
The boys whispered that Vanessa had only chosen a male-dominated degree to land a wealthy husband. She struggled academically, yet few professors gave her failing grades. A girl like that didn’t need knowledge—just admiring glances and attentive male attention.
But Vanessa had no shortage of admirers. She saw Rodney as a bookish bore and ignored him. What could they possibly talk about—music, chess, or dry computer science? By all measures, he didn’t fit her type.
Yet Rodney pined desperately. He wanted to be near her every moment—in lectures, in the dorms. On his next visit home, he announced he wanted to move into university housing. It took too long to get from his aunt’s place to campus. His father shouted, his mother cried, but Rodney promised his studies wouldn’t suffer.
Soon he was over the moon. Now he could see Vanessa outside of class—where she rarely showed up—and in the dorms. He invented excuses to visit her, but she remained indifferent.
Even in group settings, she refused to dance with him, slipping away to smoke on the balcony. Rodney started smoking too, but it didn’t bring him a step closer.
Summer break was agony. Two months away from Vanessa felt like torture. Another year passed like this.
Rodney excelled in his studies, praised by professors who predicted great things. When he returned to the dorm on August 31st (his mother wouldn’t let him leave earlier), he learned Vanessa had gotten married. The news shattered him. Her husband was a senior, a star athlete—the university’s pride.
Vanessa no longer lived in the dorm. She and her husband had their own flat. Rodney could only watch her from afar during lectures. Just before winter exams, he asked to borrow her notes, claiming he’d missed a class.
“Ask someone else. I need to study too,” she said.
“But the test is the day after tomorrow. I’ll return them tomorrow,” he pleaded, looking at her with longing.
Vanessa relented.
The next day, Rodney skipped class for the first time—just to return her notes in person. He’d overheard her complaining that her husband was away at a competition again. His grades were handed to him without effort.
Rodney got her address from a friend, timed his visit for when she’d be home, and went to see her. Heart pounding, he rang the bell—but her husband, a broad-shouldered athlete, answered.
“What do you want?” he grunted.
“To return Vanessa’s notes,” Rodney mumbled.
“Give them here,” the man said, holding out a large hand.
Rodney tried to peer past him, but the man blocked the doorway entirely.
“I wanted to give them to her myself.”
Her husband scoffed, snatched the notebook, and slammed the door in his face.
Rodney switched to another class group and moved back to his aunt’s.
***
Fifteen years later.
The office buzzed as Rodney Eugene Carver was congratulated on his promotion to director. His predecessor had been transferred to London. Among the staff were his old classmates, including Lydia Short, a quiet, responsible woman and mother of twin boys.
She pulled him aside, genuinely happy for his success.
“I always knew you’d do great things,” she said, adjusting her thick glasses with one hand while holding a champagne flute in the other.
Rodney glanced at the framed photo on her desk—her happy family. “A plain mouse, but married,” he thought.
“I’m glad,” he said smoothly. “I might have a better position for you soon.”
“Thank you.” She adjusted her glasses again. “But I wanted to talk about Vanessa. Vanessa Oldham. Remember her?”
Of course he did. But he feigned thoughtfulness.
“She married in third year—changed her surname. Her husband graduated with us too. Michael Donovan. Star athlete. Ring any bells?”
Rodney shrugged. He remembered the humiliation when Donovan had shut the door.
“Things haven’t gone well for her. Got pregnant right away, but Donovan convinced her to terminate it. Said they had time. Then—no more kids. A year ago, she found out he had a mistress and a son with her. Vanessa filed for divorce. Stayed with me a week—the flat was his.” Lydia paused. “I thought you had a crush on her.”
“Did I? I don’t remember,” Rodney lied.
“She needs a job. I know she wasn’t the brightest, but I’ll help her.” Lydia looked at him hopefully.
Rodney pretended to think. His heart hammered. *She knows about my success. She’s asked for help. I’ll see her again…* He took Lydia’s champagne and drank it in one gulp.
“Sorry. Needed that.”
“So, should I tell her to come in? You’ll help?” Lydia pressed.
“Fine. I’m busy now—taking over the role. Remind me next week, I’ll fit her in.”
“Thank you, Rodney!”
“Don’t thank me yet. If she doesn’t perform, I’ll fire her.”
Lydia assured him Vanessa would try.
The staff celebrated, hopeful for better times ahead. *Time to end this before someone gets drunk and smashes the place,* Rodney thought.
Driving home in his new Audi, he thought about Vanessa. *Divorced. I wonder how she looks now…*
***
After university, Rodney joined a major firm. His innovative software earned recognition.
He married a sweet but dim girl who cared little for his work. Shopping and holidays were her passions. Bored, he divorced her after two years. Other women came and went, but none held his interest. He focused on his career.
***
On Monday, Lydia appeared at his door.
“Hey. Got a minute? You asked me to remind you about Vanessa. When can she come?”
Rodney leaned back in his chair.
“If you’re busy, Oleg—your deputy—could interview her.”
“No, I’ll do it.” He pretended to check his diary. “Thursday, 1 PM.”
“Thank you! I’ll call her right now.”
On Thursday, Rodney deliberately delayed his return, making Vanessa wait. When he entered, he nodded curtly and walked past her. Five minutes later, he had her brought in.
She sat nervously.
“You’ve changed,” she said softly.
“Where have you worked before? Why did you leave?”
She listed a few jobs—manager, secretary. She met his gaze steadily.
“I need work. I’ll take anything.”
“Anything? Even cleaning?”
She flinched but stayed seated.
“Just joking.” He offered her a secretary role. “It’s a start.”
The next day, she arrived. He made her redo documents, changed meeting times without warning, and berated her for mistakes. She endured it silently.
Once, he hid important files from her desk. The next day, he watched her panic.
“They’re gone! I left them right here—maybe we can request copies—” She was near tears.
“You’re punishing me,” she burst out.
“Maybe. Did you think I’d still be in love? Now I’m the boss, and you’ll tolerate anything to keep your job.”
Her mascara ran, her lipstick smudged. He hated himself but pressed on.
“What would you do to make up for lost documents?” he asked coldly.
She looked up, confused.
“Anything? For a secretary’s pay?”
“I have no choice,” she whispered.
“There’s always a choice.” His voice turned sharp. “You never noticed me. Why grovel now?”
“My father’s gone. My mother is sick. I spent everything on her treatment. I need this job.”
She stood, began undoing her blouse.
Rodney stopped herHe pulled her close, kissed her gently, and whispered, “You never had to beg—I loved you then, and I love you now.”
