My Predator Cousin Made Out With Every Boyfriend at Family Weddings.

But this—sitting on my balcony with Marcus and Rachel, eating good food and drinking wine and being genuinely happy—this felt better than power. This felt like peace.

My phone buzzed with a text from my mother: “Cousin Danielle’s engagement party next month. Are you and Marcus coming?”

I showed the text to Marcus. He asked: “What do you think?”

I replied: “I think we should go as an actual couple this time. No ulterior motives.”

He said: “Sounds good to me.”

Later that night, after Rachel left and we were getting ready for bed, Marcus said: “Do you ever regret it? Bringing me to Rachel’s wedding the way you did?”

I thought about it, really thought about it: “No. Honestly, maybe I should. Maybe it was petty and vindictive and not my finest moment, but I don’t regret it.”

He asked: “Why not?”

I replied: “Because it gave me you. And it gave me closure. And it made Amber finally face consequences for once in her life.”

I climbed into bed next to him: “She’s in therapy now, you know. Really working on herself. I don’t know if that would have happened if I hadn’t pushed back.”

He asked: “So you’re taking credit for her personal growth?”

I replied: “Absolutely not. I’m taking credit for standing up for myself. What she does with that is her business.”

He pulled me closer: “You know, when you first approached me in that county building, I thought you were completely insane.”

I replied: “I was completely insane.”

He said: “But also brave. It takes guts to fight back, even in unconventional ways.”

I suggested: “Or stupidity. Sometimes they’re the same thing.”

I fell asleep that night thinking about all the versions of myself I’d been. The heartbroken 19-year-old watching Tyler kiss Amber.

The devastated 22-year-old finding Chris in the hallway. The broken 25-year-old dropping her engagement ring on the floor.

And finally, the 28-year-old who decided enough was enough. I don’t know if what I did was right.

I don’t know if using someone’s probation officer as a weapon against them crosses some ethical line I should care about. But I know this: Amber never tried to kiss another one of my boyfriends.

And Marcus turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. So maybe some revenge plots have happy endings after all.

The Real Ending

The end. Except not really.

Because two months after that conversation with Rachel, I got another text. This time, from Amber: “I’m getting married. I know we’re not close, but you’re still family. I’d like you to come, and I’d like to apologize in person. Properly.”

I stared at the text for a long time. Marcus looked over my shoulder: “What are you going to do?”

I said: “I don’t know.”

He asked: “Do you want my advice?”

I said: “Always.”

He told me: “Go. Not for her, for you. So you can close this chapter completely.”

He was right. Of course he was right.

So I RSVP’d yes, plus one. And when I walked into Amber’s wedding three months later, wearing a gorgeous burgundy dress with Marcus by my side, Amber saw us and smiled.

Not her old perfect smile—a real one. She came over during cocktail hour.

Her fiancé was with her, a quiet guy named Andrew who worked as a teacher and looked at her like she was precious. Amber said: “Thank you for coming. Both of you.”

Marcus nodded politely. Amber looked at me directly: “I’ve been wanting to say this for a while now. I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” “For Tyler and Chris and David. For making you doubt yourself. For being cruel just because I was jealous and didn’t know how else to deal with my own problems.”

I said: “Okay.”

She said: “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even expect you to like me. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and I’m different now. Or at least, I’m trying to be.”

Andrew squeezed her hand: “She really is trying.”

I looked at Amber—really looked at her. She seemed softer somehow, less perfect, more real.

I told her: “I appreciate you saying that. And I hope things work out for you. I really do.”

Amber said: “Can I ask you something?”

I replied: “Sure.”

She asked: “That night at Rachel’s wedding, when you brought Marcus… did you do it to hurt me?”

I thought about lying, but what was the point? “Yes. I did it to make you uncomfortable. To make you feel what I felt.”

She asked: “Did it work?”

I asked: “What do you think?”

She smiled sadly: “It worked. I spent that whole night terrified. And afterward, I realized I’d turned into someone I hated. So I got help.”

She paused: “In a weird way, you bringing Marcus might have been the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Marcus cleared his throat: “I think the ceremony’s about to start.”

We moved toward the main room. As we walked away, Amber called out: “Megan! I’m really glad you’re happy. You deserve it.”

The ceremony was beautiful. Amber cried during her vows, real tears that smudged her makeup.

Andrew looked at her like she was the only person in the world. It was sweet and genuine and so different from the Amber I’d known growing up.