Becoming strangers again (Lily and Ryan) novel Chapter 145

JAKE

Even after spending an entire year here, my feelings of animosity and deep-seated hatred toward Ryan and Lily have not changed in the slightest. I acknowledge that I had my own imperfections and shortcomings, but despite that, I truly and deeply loved her. All I ever wanted was for her to reciprocate those feelings and love me back.

The funds I sought from her were not meant to be anything extravagant or excessive; they were simply intended as a reassurance fund—something modest to help me get established and secure my future and to pay off my debt. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet, what did she do in response to my genuine intentions? She callously and cruelly spat in my face, chewed up the love I had given her, and then, to add insult to injury, had me imprisoned with the help of her husband. The sheer nerve and audacity they had to go ahead and get married again—it was beyond infuriating.

As I sat there, staring at the television, I experienced a fleeting satisfaction. For the first time in a long while, there was a piece of news regarding them that brought me a small measure of joy. The announcement of his father’s death. It had been an eternity since I received such uplifting news.

“Fucking bastard,” the inmate seated beside me muttered angrily under his breath. His tone was one of barely contained fury. “I guess he’s not as untouchable as everyone thought. He’s mortal after all.”

I turned my head to look at him, a bit taken aback to see someone who clearly didn’t hold that family in high regard. It’s astonishing how they’re portrayed almost like royalty, as if they were the nation’s fairy tale. “You don’t seem to have much admiration for them?”

He shifted his gaze towards me, his eyes narrowing. “I ended up here because of both the father and the son,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do you really expect me to treat them with the same reverence that everyone else does?”

I let out a soft chuckle, casting a quick glance at his identification number before turning my attention back to the television. “I’m not particularly fond of them either,” I mused aloud. “In fact, I ended up in this situation because of them as well.”

I settled back into my seat, folding my hands over my chest and then leaning back with my hands resting behind my head. “If I ever get the chance, I intend to make them pay dearly for what they’ve done.”

The inmate looked around cautiously, as if ensuring no one else was listening, before leaning in closer to me. “Do you have any kind of plan or strategy to achieve that?” he asked, his voice low and conspiratorial.

I was taken aback that he was asking me such a question. I glanced around the room to ensure that no one was within earshot. “Why do you ask?” I inquired, curious and cautious.

He nervously licked his lips, his eyes darting around as if he feared someone might overhear. “I’m getting out this month,” he said quietly. “And all I want is to get back at Ryan Williams. I want to make him feel the same pain I’ve endured.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at his boldness. “How long have you been here?” I asked, wondering if he shouldn’t be focusing on good behaviour after his release.

“Fifteen years,” he responded. “And I’m set to be released next month.”

“So, you’re planning to commit another crime?” I asked, my tone deadpan. I hadn’t realized there were others in this place who reasoned as I did.

“I’ve waited fifteen years for this,” he muttered, his voice low and tight with suppressed anger. “I’ve spent all this time devising the perfect way to exact my revenge. I haven’t yet figured out the ideal form of payback, but I’m determined to make it count.”

Clearly, this man harbors a deep and intense grudge. “What exactly did they do to you?” I asked, genuinely curious.

His jaw tightened as he looked down at his hands, visibly troubled. “I stole from them,” he muttered. “I was in urgent need of money, so I took it. Ryan found out and snitched on me to his father, who then called the cops.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You’re in jail for theft?” I chuckled softly. “How much did you actually steal?”

He shook his head, his expression darkening. “It’s not just theft. I’m also here for attempted murder.”

I leaned in, intrigued. “Oh? That’s quite a turn.”

“While I was on the run,” he continued, his voice tense, “I ended up pushing his mother down the stairs. The fall put her in a coma that lasted over three years.”