“Your mother is gone. Tears won’t bring her back—so wipe your face, make dinner, and don’t look like a grieving child when my guests arrive.” That was what my husband said.

Those collectors seemed to have a sixth sense. They attacked exactly when Mark had fallen to his lowest point. The phone kept ringing. Calls from unknown numbers started pouring in. Mark panicked. He threw the phone to the ground, smashing it as if to silence the bitter reality that was haunting him. But breaking the phone wouldn’t make the problem go away. The debt was real, and now he had to face it alone without a cent in his pocket. Mark’s colleagues, witnessing the complete destruction of their former boss, began to leave one by one. They no longer wanted anything to do with him. They looked at him with disgust and contempt.

Some even spat on the floor as they passed him, a sign of disdain for his immoral attitude towards his wife and mother-in-law. The guests left without saying goodbye to Mark. They only nodded respectfully to me and Mr. Harrison before hastily exiting the house, which now felt like hell for Mark. Mark was alone, truly alone, in the middle of the messy living room. Jessica was being held by a bodyguard in a corner of the room, too busy lamenting her own fate to worry about him. I no longer felt small, but stood tall with pride. I felt strong. I had seen the villain of my life crumble due to his own actions.

Karma had arrived quickly, instantly, and painfully. I looked at Mark one last time, and then turned my back on him. I walked to my mother’s photo, which still hung on the wall. I caressed the frame, whispering in my heart that justice had been done. There was nothing left that could harm us. But Mark’s punishment was not yet over. Mr. Harrison signaled to his head of security, “It was time to take out the trash from this house. Mark no longer had the right to be here. This house was mine, inherited from my mother, and I did not want to share the same roof with the man who had desecrated our sacred marriage.