His Angry Text
When I finally drifted into light sleep, my phone buzzed. The message was short, but the rage was loud: “What’s going on with the cards?!” He didn’t even try to hide his frustration. The tone was accusatory, confused, and panicked — everything I had hoped for when I canceled the cards.
I read the message over and over, letting the sharpness of his words sink in. He was clearly blindsided, and for once, I held the upper hand. I could picture him scrambling, his plans derailed, and it gave me a strange sense of peace. His trip may not have ended, but the illusion of control had — and that was my victory.
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