My ex made fun of me for being a single mom. Today I work at the bank that foreclosed his house.

I will never forget that day at the supermarket, five years ago. I pushed the stroller with Sofia in the infant seat, trying to juggle the market list and a budget that was barely enough. Then I saw it. Marks. My ex.

— Carla? —said with that smile that I once found it charming—. Wow, do you see yourself… different.

Different was her elegant way of saying “finished.” I was wearing my uniform from the restaurant I worked at Waitress hair picked up in a bummed tail, and probably knee-length blackheads.

-Hello, Marcos – I replied, trying to sound casual.

—So it’s true — he said, looking at Sofia—. You kept the girl.

*I stayed with the girl*. Like my daughter is an old couch that nobody wanted.

—It’s my daughter, Marcos. It’s not keeping her, it’s raising her.

—Well, well, don’t get sensitive—laughs, and then leaned in like sharing a secret—. Hey, no offense but.. aren’t you ashamed? Being a single mom, working from Waitress You could have done something with your life if you weren’t so stubborn.

I got frozen. His girlfriend, an impeccably dressed woman, appeared by his side.

– Are You Coming Baby? We have that dinner at the club — she said, looking me upside down in disdain.

“I’m coming, beautiful,” replied Marcos, then he looked at me one last time. Good luck, Carla. You’re going to need it.

That night I cried while Sofia was sleeping. But those tears were the last ones I shed for him.

—

I am back to my study. Enrolled in night management and finance classes while my mom babysat Sofia. He slept four hours a day. I drank coffee like it was water. But I kept on going.

Three years later, I got a junior analyst position in a bank. Two years later, I was promoted to mortgage loan officer.

And today, this morning, when I was checking the list of pending shipments, I saw his name.

Marcos Restrepo. 847 Los Cerezos Avenue.

My hand shook on the mouse. I’ve read the entire file. Eight months late. Multiple warnings ignored. A failed gourmet restaurant business that had left it bankrupt.

– Carla, can you take care of the Los Cerezos embargo? —asked my boss—. It’s delicate. the debtor has been …… difficult.

“Of course.” I replied, holding a steady voice.

Two days later, I rang the doorbell of that house I had once seen on social media. A beautiful home, with immaculate garden and fountain at the entrance. The same house where he boasted his “successful life”.

Mark opened the door. She was wearing pants and a stained shirt. I had aged poorly, with pronounced entries and beer belly.

He looked at me without recognizing me at first. I wore my tailor suit black heels, and hair perfectly styled.

—Good morning, I am Carla Mendoza, Credit Officer of Central Bank. Coming through the embargo process.

His eyes got dilated.

— Carla? —he whispered—. Nope… can’t be.

-Mr. Restrepo, can we go over to check the documents?

Walked in with the notary and locksmith. Marcos was following me like a ghost.

—Carla, wait… didn’t know you worked here. Look, we can talk, right? For old times sake.

I turned 2 him.

—Mr. Restrepo, this is strictly professional. You’ve been outdone with your credit obligations for eight consecutive months. The bank has exhausted all negotiating institutions.

—But Carla, I… I need more time. Business is going to take off, I just need to…

—That’s what he’s said in the last six notifications —I interrupted, checking my folder—. Mr. Restrepo, you have 72 hours to evict the property.

His face has turned pale.

—Do you remember when we met in the supermarket? —I asked, this time allowing me a more personal tone—. You asked me if I wasn’t ashamed to be a single mom, working from Waitress

—I… I was being an idiot. I’m sorry.

—Do you know what? I wasn’t ashamed then, and I’m not ashamed now —continued—. Because while you flaunted your perfect life, I was building my own. Sofia is in 2nd grading with honors. I have finished my career. I have a good job, my own house, and most of all, I have dignity.

Mark bowed his head.

– Where is your girlfriend? —asked—. The one from the club?

“He left when the money ran out,” he whispered.

I sat down slowly.

-Mr. Restrepo, the notary will deliver the documents to you. Have a good day.

I walked into the door, my heels echoing in the marble of that house that would soon be no longer hers.

– Carla – called me.

I stopped without turning back.

—I was wrong with you. You were always stronger than me.

“I know.” I answered, and left without looking back.

That night I hugged Sofia while we did her math homework. She looked at me with those huge eyes I love so much.

—Mommy, why are you smiling so much?

—Cause today was a good day, my love. A very good day.

I felt no pleasure for her fall. I didn’t feel revenge. I felt something better: I felt like every night out, every sacrifice, every moment of self-doubt, was all worth it.

Because in the end, the best revenge is not watching the one who humiliated you fall. The best revenge is to lift yourself up, so high that you can no longer see it when you look down..