After his wife became disabled, Ryan divorced her and sold their home with her still in it. However, he accidentally crossed paths with her six years later, only to learn the tables had turned.
A gorgeous woman stepped out of the silver car that pulled over outside the luxury hotel. Ryan, now a homeless man, was about to approach the vehicle when the hotel's doorman noticed him.
Terrified the doorman would call the cops on him, Ryan was about to bolt, but the woman stopped him.
"Here," she offered him a $20 bill. "Get something to eat…Oh my god, is that you, Ryan?"
Ryan was shocked. Nobody had called him by his real name on the street. He looked at the woman closely and gasped. "Brittany?"
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The last time Ryan saw his ex-wife, Brittany, was six years ago when she was in a wheelchair. He had divorced her and walked out of her life.
"How…how did you get all the money for this car…hotel?" he stammered.
"I see you're more surprised by my wealth than my healing…Well, Ryan, I'd have never gotten where I'm today if it weren't for what you did six years ago…" Brittany replied as the past flashed before her eyes.
Six years ago…
Ryan decided to leave their house quietly as he went to fetch the last box of things, but Brittany was waiting for him.
"How could you, Ryan?" she demanded angrily as she positioned her wheelchair between him and the last box. "You sold this house without telling me?! What about our dreams? Memories?"
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"I thought you'd understand," he shrugged, averting his gaze. "Anyway, there's nothing left between us, Brit. Those memories are dead. I can't keep living here like nothing's changed. That accident didn't just kill our child; it killed us too."
"Don't say that!" She wheeled in front of him. "You told me family is the most important thing! I gave up my career to raise our child. We were supposed to get through this together!"
"OK, stop! This is hard for me too, alright?" Ryan shot back. "Do you think I enjoyed watching our relationship disintegrate? Getting a divorce was best for both of us and so was selling this house. The movers will be here in the morning for the furniture—"
"So is that what I am now, Ryan? Furniture?" Brittany's eyes welled up. "You sold this house with me in it…Never even gave me a chance to find somewhere else to go!"
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"I found you a nursing home. They can care for people like you…what more do you want?"
"People like me…who are no longer useful to their families, right?"
Ryan pretended he hadn't heard what Brittany said. He loaded the last box in his truck and drove away.
Brittany moved to the nursing home. She couldn't help but feel betrayed, and she was so furious that she lashed out at her physical therapy nurse, Tara.
"What's the point of those exercises when nothing will get better? Not like they'll bring back my husband or my child!"
"It can help you live a fuller life, Brittany," Tara said calmly.
But Brittany was fuming. "My ex-husband sold our house without telling me and dropped me here like a stray dog! You have no idea what it's like to be abandoned!"
"I do!" Tara cut her off and looked her in the eye. "My husband left me for his mistress, and all I got out of the divorce was a huge bill for items he had bought in my name and defaulted on paying! He turned my life upside down in two days, and I'm still picking up the pieces."
"They don't deserve to live a good life when we suffer!" Brittany crossed her arms. "We should show them what it's like to be in our shoes!"
Over the next few days, Tara and Brittany formed a tight friendship as they wanted revenge on their exes. Tara revealed her ex-husband, Harold, had some papers in their house that could nail him for fraud, and Brittany quickly had a plan.
***
They spotted Harold's car in the parking spot. The vehicle reversed just as Brittany wheeled past. She shrieked as her wheelchair spun from the impact and barely managed to keep it upright.
"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" Harold leaped from the car and ran to her. "I didn't see you…Are you hurt?"
"You nearly ran right over me! Can't you see where you're going?" She hyperventilated as she examined her legs. "But...I think I'm okay. My nerves are so on the edge now, though. Can you walk me there?" She pointed to the building elevator about 50 meters away.
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Harold felt guilty and agreed. Brittany kept him distracted with small talk as they approached the building.
Meanwhile, Tara's hands shook as she approached Harold's sports car. She saw he seemed distracted, and she had no time to waste.
Tara accessed his glove compartment and rummaged through the junk to find his house keys. But in a rush, she accidentally spilled everything on the passenger seat. "God! Not now!" she swore, but luckily, she found the keys.
Tara quickly removed a lump of putty from her handbag and pressed Harold's keys to it. She glanced back at the building, and Harold and Brittany had vanished. She quickly stuffed everything back in the compartment and sprinted down the block.
"I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I was copying that key!" she confessed as she and Brittany were staking out of Harold's house.
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"Sorry that you had to go through this, but think of the rewards," Brittany consoled her.
Suddenly, they spotted Harold.
As Harold reversed out of his driveway and disappeared down the street, Tara and Brittany got themselves inside his house using the key they had made from the imprint.
"What if he's changed the passcode?" Tara sighed as they stood before the safe in his office. But she tried the five-digit combination, and the safe clicked open!
"Harold is such an idiot!" Tara grinned as she scanned the folders in the safe, but her smile faded when she couldn't find the documents.
"The records for his dummy corporations and his offshore bank accounts…it's all gone! We did this for nothing!"
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Brittany and Tara hadn't expected their plan would fail. They decided to regroup back at the nursing home and headed toward the door, but they heard loud voices approaching and had to rush to the bathroom to hide.
"Look at all these fancy artworks, Trent! Do you reckon boss would accept them as payment for Harold's loan?" A man's rough voice appeared.
"Nope! Boss said only cash, Dave!" Trent replied.
"Hey, just check out this man's liquor cabinet!" Dave whistled. "The boss didn't say anything about not helping us with his whiskey, did he?"
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"Who are these guys?" Brittany whispered to Tara, who told her to be quiet as she pressed her ear to the door.
"Well, you heard the man, Harold," Dave said. "The boss wants cold, hard cash. What's the code for your safe?"
"There's no money in there—"
Both women flinched as they heard the sound of a hard slap.
"Oh god, we need to sneak out while they're distracted!" Brittany whispered. Then they heard another loud crash.
"Dang it, Trent! Look what you did! How's the man supposed to tell us the code if he's out cold?"
"I never thought I'd say this," Tara sighed. "But we need to save Harold!"
"What? We're no match for them!" Brittany hissed. "I adore you, Tara, but I'm not dying for your lousy ex!"
"We won't confront them directly," Tara reached the medicine cabinet over the sink and removed sleeping pills. "Wait for me!"
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Tara tiptoed from the bathroom and into the kitchen. She triggered the garage door's remote control and hurtled back into the hall. The whir of the garage door opening echoed through the house.
"You heard that? Sounds like we've got company!" Trent said.
"Let's check it out; Harry's not gonna run off anyway."
Tara held her breath and hid behind a plant as she saw the two bulky brutes covered in scars walk to the garage. She raced down to the sitting room where Harold was lying unconscious. Tara had to be quick. She crushed the sleeping pills into the thugs' glasses and hurried back to the bathroom.
"Something's up, Dave! The timing's too perfect. We should check the house!" Trent said as they returned, and Brittany and Tara stared at each other in horror.
But thankfully, Dave refused. They seemed to be drinking again, and soon their speech started to slur, and eventually, they went quiet.
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Tara and Brittany crept over to where Harold lay. They managed to get Harold over Brittany's wheelchair handle, but disaster hit when they reached the front door.
"He's stuck!" Tara exclaimed as Brittany's chair veered to the left.
"Get him unstuck, fast!" Brittany glanced at Tara as she clung to Harold. "He's starting to slip."
"Shoot...sorry, Harold." Tara banged the toe of Harold's shoe until it popped free from the metal curve it had gotten wedged in.
Tara huffed as she pushed her friend and Harold toward her car. But soon, they realized they couldn't fit Harold and Brittany's chair in their vehicle.
"Wait, I have a better idea!" Tara ran back to Harold's house. She tiptoed over the sleeping thugs and went through their pockets. Luckily, she got their car keys quickly and hurried back to Brittany.
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Together, the women loaded Harold into the trunk and settled him there as comfortably as possible. Then Tara helped Brittany into the passenger seat.
''See if they have a first aid kit,'' Tara said. ''I need to bandage Harold's thigh."
Suddenly, Brittany let out a startled gasp. "Did you find the kit?" Tara asked.
"No…but there's so much money that we could use some as bandages if you want," Brittany said, holding up several stacks of $100 bills.
"Oh, God! Let's just get Harold to the hospital. We can figure everything else out later,'' Tara said.
''Honey, I don't think there's anything to figure out." Brittany grinned as she fanned her face with several bills.
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Tara let out a startled laugh as she started the car. "After we drop Harold off at the hospital, let's leave our heartaches and awful exes behind us and start a new life!"
"You know what?" Brittany chuckled. "Honolulu is amazing at this time of the year! I think I've had enough of revenge."
Present-day…
"So Tara and I moved to Hawaii. We invested the money and watched it triple in the first year. Tara suggested I see a surgeon, and here I am after the treatment…but it looks like things didn't go well for you after we split. How about you come to my suite and—"
''I'm sorry, Ma'am, but you can't do that!" The doorman said firmly.
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"I'll be sure to tell the front desk you tried to stop me if they have concerns about my friend,'' Brittany replied, marching right past the stunned doorman with Ryan in tow.
''Now, I want to hear everything that's happened to you over these past six years. And then we're going to discuss what I can do to help you get back on your feet." She smiled as they reached the reception.
"But why?" Ryan asked. "Why would you help me after what I did to you?"
''Because I can. I did want revenge on you once, Ryan, but I moved on ages ago. Tara's kindness toward Harold that day made me realize that the only person I was hurting by holding onto my bitterness was me. Besides," Brittany grinned, "like I said, I never would've reached this point in my life if it weren't for you."
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