Revenge On My Feet Chapter 01
On graduation day, my best friend, Bianca, loosened the screws on my prosthetic leg.
I tumbled down the steps in front of the entire school.
Bianca was the first one to laugh.
Soon, the people around us were laughing, too.
My boyfriend, Cormac, stood beside her, arms folded. He patted her lightly on the shoulder.
“Alright, Bianca. Don’t laugh so hard you hurt yourself.”
Then he lowered his gaze to me, still sprawled on the ground.
“See? A little humiliation isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“Go through this a few more times, and you won’t cry every time someone mentions your leg.”
From that day on, the phrase *a few more times* was seared into my brain.
Ever since I lost my left leg, the thing Bianca said to me most often was,
“I’m doing this for your own good.”
When we were fifteen, on a summer camp hike, she’d pushed me to walk at the front of the group, then led us onto a steep, unmarked trail.
My energy gave out, and I eventually slipped on a gravel slope.
When I was seventeen, I signed up for the school’s charity 5K.
Before the race, she claimed she was playing a joke on me and hid my running prosthetic.
I missed the race, forced to stand on the sidelines and watch her win an award.
On the podium, she even deliberately mimicked the way I stood on one leg and held her medal up for me to see.
Last month, she used snacks to tease the neighbor’s golden retriever, making the dog chase me down the street.
She filmed me scrambling onto a low wall to get away from the dog and posted it on Instagram.
The caption read: “If a disabled person can climb a wall, my pet pig definitely can too!”
Again and again, she’d push me into some humiliating spectacle, only to claim it was for my own good.
And every single time, Cormac took her side.
I looked up at them from the foot of the stage, and suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore.
People who treated my humiliation as a joke didn’t deserve a place in my life.
…
I crouched on the floor, trying to force the misaligned connector back into place.
No matter what I did, the metal clasp wouldn’t lock. My fingers were rubbed raw, and hot tears kept falling.
Cormac and Bianca stood over me, looking down.
“Wipe your tears,” Cormac said with a frown.
“People will think Bianca bullied you.”
“She really is trying to help. If you go through this a few more times, you won’t fall apart over your prosthetic anymore.”
I looked up at him, feeling like I was seeing a stranger.
“Making me fall in front of the whole school is helping me?”
“You know I hate it when people stare at my leg.”
“And you still made me the center of attention. You call that helping?”
My voice trembled uncontrollably.
Bianca hunched her shoulders, her expression a little awkward.
“Okay, fine, maybe we went too far this time. But I really didn’t mean any harm.”
Cormac immediately jumped in.
“She already said she didn’t. What more do you want?”
“You’re always like this—so dramatic. Crying over every little thing.”
“Can’t you just handle your own emotions for once?”
With that, he grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the auditorium exit.
“If you’re going to throw a tantrum, wait until we’re alone. Everyone’s watching. It’s a bad look.”
His eyes were cold, as if I were the one making a scene.
“Let’s just take the graduation photo. Haven’t you always wanted a picture with me?”
“You won’t look good if you keep making that face.”
The photographer was already in position, and the students had lined up.
I could only swallow the fury rising in my chest and stand beside Cormac.
Just then, Bianca suddenly ran over.
Without a second thought, Cormac gave her the spot to his left.
I was shoved to the very edge of the frame.
The flash went off.
The photo printed out a moment later.
I glanced at it. In the picture, I was in the corner again, only half my face visible.
Cormac and Bianca stood pressed close together, beaming at the camera.
I stared at the photo, and the tears started falling again.
I looked up at Cormac.
“Cormac, we’re done.”
He froze. The photo in his hand bent under the force of his grip.
“Can you stop being so childish?”
“If you don’t like the picture, we can take another one.”
“You think you can just throw the word ‘breakup’ around whenever you feel like it?”
“Besides, Marino Capital is sending you a formal offer soon.”
“The hiring manager only agreed to give you a shot because of me.”
“After you break up with me, with your… condition—”
He trailed off.
He didn’t have to say the rest.
I understood.
He took a breath and put on that condescending tone again.
“Enough. Bianca and I are both trying to help you. Worst case, we’ll take another picture.”
Every time Bianca humiliated me in the name of “helping,” he did this.
He’d promise a movie. A short trip. A photograph.
The compensation he offered never materialized.
I wasn’t going to believe him again.
I wiped my tears away and met his eyes.
“I’m not throwing a tantrum. Cormac, we are over.”
Then I looked at Bianca.
“And you, don’t ever contact me again.”