My Co-Worker Tried to Steal My Boyfriend and Get Me Fired, but Her Obsession Blew Up in Front of the Owner’s Japanese Mother

“When I confronted her, she said she panicked, that working in restaurants again triggered her and she wasn’t thinking clearly. But then she smiled, just for a second. I saw it. She liked the chaos.”

We sat in silence for a while while life moved normally around us, other people laughing and talking like none of us had ever made a mess this big.

“I’m not asking you to take me back,” he finally said. “I know I ruined everything. I just wanted you to know that I know I was wrong.”

“Thanks,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

“Are you working?”

“Yeah. Kiku on Fifth.”

“That’s good. Yuki’s good people.”

“She is.”

He stood up, then paused.

“For what it’s worth, Bianca’s telling people I manipulated her into a relationship while she was vulnerable. She says I took advantage of her trauma.”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She’s good at playing the victim.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She really is.”

After he left, I sat there for another hour. I thought I’d feel vindicated, but mostly I felt empty. We had all played stupid games, and every single one of us had paid for it.

Work at Kiku became my anchor. Yuki was tough, fair, and completely unimpressed by drama. When she found out about my history with Kenji and Bianca, she just shook her head.

“Men are idiots,” she said. “But women who chase taken men are worse. They create their own karma.”

Three months into working there, I finally felt stable again. I had a routine, some new work friends, and most importantly, I had stopped checking Kenji’s social media.

Then Bianca showed up at Kiku.

It was a busy Friday night, and I was running between tables when I saw her at the host stand. My blood went cold. She was with a guy I didn’t recognize, dressed up like it was a date.

When the host started to lead them into my section, I grabbed Yuki.

“I can’t serve her. Please.”

Yuki took one look at my face and understood. “Take your break. I’ll handle it.”

I hid in the kitchen trying to calm my heart down. What was she doing there? Was it a coincidence, or had she tracked down where I worked?

Twenty minutes later, Yuki came to find me.

“She asked for you specifically.”

“What?”

“Said she heard you worked here and wanted to apologize. I told her you were off tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“She didn’t believe me. Made quite a scene. Her date looked embarrassed.”

I peeked through the kitchen window. Bianca was gesturing dramatically while her date stared at the menu like he wished he could disappear.

Even from across the restaurant, I could tell she was performing.

“Let me serve them,” I said suddenly.

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

I walked over with my best server smile.

“Hi, welcome to Kiku. Can I start you with some drinks?”

Bianca’s face flickered through surprise, satisfaction, and then something like disappointment when I didn’t give her the reaction she wanted.

“Oh my God, hi. I heard you worked here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“What can I get you to drink?” I asked again, pen poised.

“Didn’t you hear me? I want to apologize for everything.”

Her date shifted in his seat. “Babe, maybe we should just order.”

“No, this is important,” she said, grabbing my wrist. “I need you to know that I forgive you.”

I gently pulled my arm back.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to look at the menu.”

“You’re not going to say anything?” Her voice rose. “After everything you did to me?”

Other tables were starting to look over. I kept my smile in place.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As I walked away, I heard her date ask, “What was that about?”

“She’s the one I told you about,” Bianca said loudly. “The one who destroyed my life.”

I served them professionally and ignored every attempt she made to drag me into the past. Each time I came to the table, she tried to reopen the old story. Each time I redirected to their order. Her date grew more uncomfortable by the minute until he was mostly staring at his phone.

When they finished, Bianca flagged me down.

“We need the check. Unless you’re going to overcharge us like you sabotaged my orders.”

“I’ll get that right away,” I said pleasantly.

At the register, Yuki pulled me aside. “You okay?”

“Actually, yeah. I am.”

And I was.

Watching Bianca work so hard for a reaction and fail, watching her date squirm, hearing her still cling to the same victim story months later, it all felt pathetic. She had gotten everything she claimed to want—Kenji, sympathy, attention—and she was still here trying to provoke me.

They left without tipping, of course. Bianca complained loudly about the service on the way out. Her date looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him.

After they were gone, Yuki said, “She’s broken. People like that need drama to feel alive. You did good not giving her what she wanted.”

A week later, Sarah called with news.

“You’ll never guess who just got hired at Yamamoto’s.”

My stomach sank. “Bianca?”

“No, better. Remember the guy she brought to your restaurant? Turns out he’s the new sous-chef. And he already broke up with her. Told everyone she’s crazy and obsessed with you and Kenji.”

“I don’t care,” I said, and this time I meant it. “How do you even know all this?”

“I still have friends there. They said she showed up during service last night crying and begging him to take her back. Security had to escort her out.”

I thought that should have felt satisfying. Instead it just made me tired.

“Sarah, I need you to stop telling me about her. About any of them.”

There was a pause. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

After we hung up, I felt lighter, like I had finally put down a weight I didn’t realize I was still carrying.

Two weeks later, I was closing up at Kiku when someone knocked on the locked front door.

My heart sank the second I saw Kenji through the glass.

I thought about pretending I hadn’t seen him, but Yuki was watching from the office. So I called through the door, “Five minutes.”

He waited outside while I finished up, then followed me to my car.

“I’m sorry to ambush you,” he said. “I heard about Bianca coming here.”

“Okay.”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine.”

“She’s been unstable since that guy broke up with her. She’s been texting me again.”

I leaned against my car. “And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because she’s fixated on the idea that if she can get us back together, everything will go back to normal. She keeps saying she wants to apologize to both of us and make things right.”

“There is no ‘us’ to get back together,” I said. “You made sure of that.”

He flinched. “I know. I’ve told her that, but she won’t listen. She showed up at my apartment last night.”

“That sounds like your problem, not mine.”

“You’re right. It is. I just wanted to warn you. She might escalate.”

I studied him in the dim light. He looked even worse than the last time I’d seen him.

“Kenji, what do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I just worry about you.”

“Don’t,” I said, getting into my car. “I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

The next few weeks were quiet. I picked up extra shifts, started saving money again, and even went on a couple of dates with a regular customer who had been flirting with me. Nothing serious, but it felt good to remember I could be attracted to someone who wasn’t Kenji.

Then the texts started.

Unknown number: We need to talk about Kenji.

I blocked it.

Another number: Ignoring me won’t make the truth go away.