The Face Of Revenge

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KNIFE BURN

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"ROSE’S POV"

If anyone had told me that love would be the very knife that burned through my soul, I would’ve laughed. But now, standing at the edge of my world, I wasn’t laughing. I was breaking.

I had spent the entire day preparing. The dining table glowed with candlelight, wine chilled in an ice bucket, soft music played from the Bluetooth speaker. Everything was perfect—because it was our fifth wedding anniversary. A milestone, at least for me.

I wore the red satin dress David once said brought out the fire in my eyes. My makeup was soft, romantic. I even baked his favorite dessert from scratch. Every single detail was done out of love. Foolish, blind love.

The doorbell rang.

Hope fluttered in my chest, but it wasn’t David.

It was our friends. Couples we both invited. My cousin, some colleagues from David's firm, a few old college friends—all arriving with smiles, gifts, and laughter, expecting to celebrate the love we so publicly flaunted.

“Where’s David?” they kept asking.

“He’s probably stuck in traffic,” I said, smiling through the growing pit in my stomach.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two. Plates were still untouched. Wine half-sipped. Laughter faded. Conversations dulled. One by one, they started making excuses.

“I have an early meeting tomorrow, Rose, I’m so sorry…”

“I’m sure he’ll show up. Don’t worry, okay?”

Pity. That was the last look they gave me before slipping out the door.

By 11:23 PM, I was the only one left, sitting at a dinner table made for celebration, now heavy with silence.

He didn’t show.

He didn’t call.

I dialed. No answer.

I texted. Delivered, then read. But no reply.

I sat there for a few more minutes like a statue before finally pushing the chair back and standing. The perfume of fresh roses—my favorite—still lingered in the air from the bouquet delivered earlier.

I should have known the flowers were a distraction. A cover.

The smile I had forced all evening crumbled. I walked into our bedroom and curled on the bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling as my mind screamed the one question I didn’t want to answer.

Was he cheating?

Tears fell quietly. I didn’t sleep. My heart didn’t rest.

---

The Next Morning

The sun poured through the windows like it didn’t give a damn about the storm inside me. I sat up slowly, makeup smeared on my cheeks, hair tangled.

I dragged myself to the kitchen and wrapped my silk robe tighter around me. As I poured coffee into my favorite mug, I heard the front door creak open.

My breath caught in my throat.

He was finally home.

I turned around, holding onto a tiny shred of hope—

And froze.

David walked in, cool and calm, with a woman behind him.

Not just any woman.

Olivia.

My best friend.

And she was pregnant.

Her round belly pushed through the fabric of her floral dress like an open insult.

"Surprised to see us?" David said flatly. No guilt. No emotion.

I blinked. “W-What is this?”

Olivia stepped forward, fake sympathy dripping from her voice. “I’m sorry, Rose. But you knew this marriage was dead. You were just too scared to admit it.”

My throat closed. I gripped the mug in my hand until it shattered against the floor. The noise startled even Olivia.

“How could you do this to me?” I whispered. “You were my best friend.”

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I raised my hand to slap her, rage shaking through me, but before I could even touch her, David grabbed me by the arm and shoved me back hard.

The pain shot through my body.

"You crazy bitch!" he yelled. “You think you’re some victim here?”

I stumbled back, shocked. “She betrayed me!”

“No. You betrayed me, Rose. With your barren womb and your stupid hope.”

The room spun.

“What?”

“I said you’re barren!” he screamed. “Five years, and not even one damn pregnancy test came back positive. What were we even celebrating? A failed marriage?”

Tears ran down my cheeks, but I couldn’t stop them. My heart was shattering in real time.

“I loved you, David…”

He laughed—mocking, cold. “I never loved you, Rose. I was just waiting. Waiting for you to finally sign those business transfer documents—those assets your father left you.”

My stomach turned.

“What?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t read it. You were always too trusting. Too desperate.”

I backed away, trembling. “You used me…”

He stepped closer. “Damn right I did. And now that you’ve signed everything over, I don’t need you anymore.”

I screamed, i shouted but all in vain because it was already late .

out of annoyance , i pushed him to the wall,

I spat on him, furious, broken, betrayed—but David grabbed me and threw me to the floor, his hand connecting brutally with my cheek beating the hell out of me., i try reciprocating but he was stronger than me.

The impact knocked me sideways. I cried out in pain, trying to crawl away.

He didn’t stop.

He kicked me. Over and over.

“You want to fight? You want drama? Get the hell out of my house!” you mother fucker.

“David, stop!” Olivia shouted, half-heartedly.

But he didn’t stop until he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the front door like a sack of garbage.

My robe tore. My knees scraped against the tile, i waa seriously in pains.

And then, he opened the door and threw me outside like I meant nothing at all.

He closed the door and pushed me out in my own father's house, my property,, hmmm what a world.

I lay there for what felt like forever. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t cry anymore.

I looked around—barefoot, bleeding, shaking. My neighbors peep from their windows, but no one came out.

No one helped.

I stumbled to my feet, gripping my ribs, and started walking. I don’t remember where I was going. My body moved on its own. My mind had gone blank.

Then suddenly—

Bright lights.

A loud horn.

Screeching tires.

Darkness.

---

Unknown Time – Hospital Room

The sound of beeping machines brought me back.

White walls. The scent of antiseptic. A nurse leaning over me.

“You’re awake!” she said, smiling softly. “Don’t try to move yet. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

I looked at her, confused.

Two days?

“W-Where am I?” I croaked.

She hesitated. “Sweetheart… you were found by the expressway. Hit by a car. It’s a miracle you survived.”

I sat up too fast. Pain exploded through my head.

“Easy!” she warned. “You’ve got bruised ribs, and your memory’s been… affected.”

My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“You kept asking for someone named David. But then you started asking who he was. It seems you have temporary amnesia. It might be trauma-induced.”

I stared at her, my heart racing.

David.

Olivia.

The betrayal. The violence. The humiliation.

But no matter how hard I tried, their faces blurred.

All I remembered was pain.

I let the tears flow freely from my eyes as i whispered, “Who am I?”

And somewhere, deep inside my soul, I knew…

This was just the beginning.