My Ex Ruined My Day at Work, I Brilliantly Took Revenge on Him the Same Day — Story of the Day
When her ex attempts to make fun of her at work, Miranda, a diligent young Mexican woman, is put in a difficult situation. Because her work is on the line, Miranda is afraid to take action, but she is motivated by the hurt her ex caused her.
Despite the risk of losing her job, she discovers a bold way to hold him accountable for his actions. After her messy public breakup, Miranda was drowning in heartbreak and isolation. As an immigrant trying to carve out a new life in a foreign country, she knew she couldn’t afford to fall apart—she had to keep working. But the challenges kept piling on, relentless and unforgiving.
One day, after showing up late to her shift yet again, Miranda found herself in the restaurant kitchen, facing her supervisor, Michael. With the clang of pots and the hiss of steam behind them, she had no choice but to lay it all bare and explain the storm she was caught in.
“I’m really sorry for being late again, Michael,” Miranda said quietly, her voice barely rising above the clatter of pans in the kitchen. “There’s just been… a lot going on. My boyfriend and I broke up, and—well, everyone knows about it.”
Michael didn’t look up from the inventory sheet he was scanning. “What happens in your personal life is just that—personal. But if it starts affecting your job, that’s where I draw the line.” His tone was firm, unmoved. “You need to be on time and ready to work. This is your final warning.”
Miranda nodded, swallowing hard. “I understand. I’ll do better.”
But that promise was tested sooner than she expected.
Later that evening, she froze when she spotted Colin—her ex—and his new girlfriend Leslie laughing at a table near the window. Her stomach twisted. She turned to Michael, her voice low. “Can I skip that table? Please. It’s… them.”
Michael sighed, not even sparing her a glance as he wiped his hands on a dish towel. “Miranda, we all have our baggage. But we’re understaffed tonight, and I need you out there—not hiding in the back.”
Miranda had no choice but to serve them—Colin and Leslie—her past wrapped in fresh cruelty, seated like royalty at table six. From the moment she approached, their taunts began.
“Well, look who it is,” Colin sneered, his voice loud enough for nearby diners to hear. “Miranda, serving tables now? Guess people from your background really do shine in the service industry, huh?”
Miranda forced a smile, masking the tremor in her chest. “Can I take your order?” she asked, her voice strained but steady.
Colin let his fork clatter deliberately to the floor. “Oops.”
She bent down to retrieve it, her fingers shaking. As she rose, Leslie burst into laughter and clapped mockingly. “Wow, look at her! She’s really good at picking things up.”
Miranda’s cheeks burned as the nearby tables turned to stare. She handed the fork back to Colin, who smirked. “Thanks. You’re such a team player.”
Determined to hold herself together, she delivered their food without comment—Mexican stew, hot and fragrant. But Colin shoved the plate away after one bite, his voice theatrical.
“This? This isn’t even spicy. What kind of joke is this?” He tipped the bowl, and stew spilled across the table, splashing Miranda’s apron and staining her shirt.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled, trying to steady her hands as she cleaned the mess. Leslie laughed again, her laughter sharp and cruel.
Miranda could feel it—her composure unraveling, her strength evaporating under the weight of humiliation. The eyes. The whispers. The pity. She blinked rapidly, but the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable.
She fled to the kitchen, slipping behind the stainless-steel counters like a wounded animal seeking shelter.
Then, a quiet voice broke through her sobs. “Here. Take this.”
She looked up to find Chef Robert, holding out a clean towel. His face was weathered but kind, and his eyes held a quiet fury—not at her, but at what he’d just seen.
Without a word, she took the towel. His presence—the calm, the unspoken solidarity—made her cry harder.
“You’re stronger than you think, Miranda,” he said gently. “I don’t need to know every detail, but I see you. I see what you’re carrying. And I know your spirit is bigger than anything those two could throw at you.”
She nodded through her tears, something in her finally softening. Chef Robert didn’t press. He just listened.
And Miranda told him. About the breakup that shattered her. About Colin, who once made her laugh and made her small in equal measure. About how, in college, she once skipped studying for an important exam just to go to a party with him because he insisted she should “lighten up.” How Leslie, Colin, and she had once shared classrooms and laughter—until everything turned cold.
“I really should study, Colin,” Miranda said, her voice tinged with hesitation as she glanced at the stack of textbooks on her desk. “My grades aren’t looking too great.”
Colin, however, wasn’t about to let her off the hook. He shook his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Come on, Miranda. You’ve been working so hard. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out. One night off won’t hurt. Let’s go have some fun. Please?”
Miranda hesitated, torn between her responsibilities and the undeniable pull of Colin’s charm. She knew she should focus on her studies, but the idea of spending time with him, of being seen by him in that way, was too tempting. She smiled, a bit shy, and said, “I’ll think about it. I’ll let you know tonight.”
Later, after they shared a lingering kiss, Colin promised her the evening would be unforgettable. As Miranda returned to her room, her heart fluttered with excitement, but also a touch of anxiety. She knew she was making a decision that would affect more than just her studies.
Before she could settle into her thoughts, Leslie—her roommate—burst in, eyeing Miranda with an unreadable look. “Miranda, what’s going on with you? You look… happy.” Her gaze dropped to the flowers in Miranda’s hands. “And where did those come from?”
Miranda’s stomach churned. She should have known better than to trust Leslie, who always seemed to be hiding something behind her smile. Still, Miranda couldn’t help herself. She let the excitement spill over, her voice light with affection. “This is Colin. I really like him. He’s been so sweet to me… but I’m nervous about my tests. He invited me to a party tonight.”
Leslie’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she nodded slowly, her expression too neutral to be sincere. “A party, huh? Well, sounds like fun… if you don’t mind falling behind.”
Miranda’s gut twisted, but she dismissed the feeling. Leslie’s words barely skimmed the surface of her excitement, even though something in Miranda’s heart told her she might be making the wrong choice.
“You’ve got to enjoy life, Miranda,” Leslie said, her voice light and persuasive. “Exams shouldn’t make you miss out on everything. Come on, now’s the time to have fun!”
Miranda hesitated, her fingers still gripping her textbooks. “Les, I really need to study…”
Leslie waved her off, as if the thought of studying was an afterthought. “Miranda, you’re a clever cookie. You’re not going to ruin your future over one night. Go out with Colin, have fun at the party. Trust me. You deserve it.”
Miranda felt the weight of Leslie’s words settle on her chest. She knew it was a risk, but the thought of Colin, the allure of a night away from her responsibilities, was too tempting. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, one night couldn’t ruin everything, right?
With a deep breath, she picked up her phone, dialing Colin’s number. “Colin, I’ll be there. Since you really want this night, I’ll make it happen. I’ll go,” she said, her voice more confident than she felt.
When the evening came, Miranda found herself at the entrance of the crowded club, the pulsing music vibrating through the floor beneath her. The noise and flashing lights felt overwhelming, and for a moment, doubt crept in. Was this the right choice?
Colin noticed her discomfort almost immediately. He approached with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, handing her a drink. “Here, drink this,” he said smoothly. “It’ll help loosen you up. Trust me, it’ll make you feel better.”
Miranda hesitated, eyeing the drink. Her instincts told her to hold back, but Colin’s reassuring smile, the pressure of the moment, and her own desire to fit in pushed her to take it. She sipped the drink, the cool liquid sliding down her throat as she tried to ignore the growing unease in her stomach.
Miranda couldn’t resist. The drink Colin had handed her swept through her, dulling the sharp edges of her worries. As the night wore on, the music thumped in her chest, the flashing lights spun her into euphoria, and she felt free—free from the pressure, free from her insecurities, free from the weight of her responsibilities. She danced, laughed, and let go in ways she never thought she could. The night blurred into a haze of freedom and exhilaration, the lines between right and wrong fading into the rhythm.
But when Miranda woke the next morning, the world was suddenly a cold, confusing place. The unfamiliar room was dimly lit, and her body felt heavy. As she tried to piece together the events of the night, the pieces seemed fractured—slivers of memories flashing before her eyes, but none of them made sense. Her clothes were scattered on the floor, and she was disoriented, her mind fighting through a fog.
The reality hit her like a wave. She was surrounded by people—strangers and friends alike—who were barely clothed, their bodies tangled in disarray. Panic gripped her chest as she recalled fragmented moments with Colin, but the rest was a blur. What had happened last night? How had she gotten here? A sickening feeling twisted in her stomach as she realized how exposed and vulnerable she felt in this strange, unfamiliar place.
The thought of what others might think sent a sharp shiver down her spine. She couldn’t stay here—not like this. Miranda’s heart raced as she hastily gathered her things and booked a cab, her mind spinning with fear. She needed to get back to her college residence hall. She needed to escape before anyone else saw her in this state, before the whispers started.
When she arrived at the college, the stares were immediate and piercing. Miranda felt the weight of every gaze on her, their eyes scanning her with judgment, with something she couldn’t place. Whispers filled the air, and the murmur of conversations stopped as soon as she entered the building. She felt like a spectacle—a person who no longer belonged in this space.
Confusion clouded her mind. What had happened? Why was everyone staring at her like that? Was it because of last night? She could feel their judgment seeping through the air, like an invisible weight pressing against her chest. She didn’t know what to do, where to go, or who to turn to.
Miranda’s heart was heavy with sadness and confusion as she sat in her dorm room, feeling more alone than ever. She needed someone to talk to, but Leslie wasn’t answering her calls. The one person she thought might understand her—Colin—was also unreachable. Desperate, she tried calling him again, but the silence on the other end only deepened her despair.
Just as she was about to give up, her phone rang with an unfamiliar number. It was the dean of the college, and the tone in his voice was cold and unforgiving.
“Miranda, I’ve seen the pictures and videos circulating online. Do you have any idea how damaging this is? You’ve embarrassed yourself and the entire school. If this continues, we will have no choice but to expel you. Consider this a warning.” The words cut through her like a blade.
Her mind spun. How could this be happening? How could things have spiraled so far out of control? She needed help, someone who could make sense of all this.
Frantically, Miranda rushed out to find Colin, desperate for any kind of support. But when she found him, the reality of her situation hit her like a freight train.
There he was, laughing with Leslie, their faces lit up with cruel amusement.
Colin spotted her first, his smirk twisting into something sharper. “Look who’s here,” he mocked, his voice dripping with derision. “Miranda, did you come running back to me? Did you really think I could fix your little problem?”
Miranda’s chest tightened as the words sank in.
Leslie, standing beside him, wore a smile that sent a chill down her spine. “You really thought Colin was ever interested in you, didn’t you?” Leslie sneered. “You were just part of a game. A wager. Two weeks. That’s all it took. He only played you to make you act a fool. And now, here you are, begging for help.”
Miranda’s world crumbled. The betrayal stung deeper than anything she had ever experienced. She had been nothing more than a pawn in their twisted game. Her heart shattered, not just from the pain of the situation but from the realization that she had been nothing more than a joke to them.
Tears welled in her eyes as she stood frozen, unable to say anything. She had been so vulnerable, so open with Colin, believing he cared. But now she knew the truth.
She wasn’t just the victim of a prank; she was the punchline.
As Miranda listened to Colin and Leslie’s cruel laughter, each word felt like a punch to her gut. Their mockery echoed in her ears, the sting of their betrayal sinking deeper with every passing moment. She wanted to run, to hide from the humiliation that washed over her, but a sudden surge of resolve flared up inside her. She had been played, yes, but that didn’t mean she had to stay down. She wouldn’t let them destroy her.
The isolation she felt was suffocating, but as the weight of their cruelty bore down on her, something shifted. A quiet voice inside her whispered that she deserved better than this, and the urge for revenge began to take root.
Miranda’s gaze flickered toward Robert, the only person in the restaurant who had shown her any kindness. He was just finishing up in the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron when she approached him, the spark of defiance still burning in her chest.
“Can you help me, Robert?” Miranda asked, her voice steady but low, as if she were making a dangerous confession. “Just once… make their food really spicy.”
Robert looked at her, brows furrowed in concern. “Miranda, you know the reputation of this place… we can’t afford to risk it.”
But Miranda was resolute. She had nothing left to lose. “I really need this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Robert. Just once. Let me get back at them.”
Robert hesitated, his eyes scanning her face, as if weighing the consequences. He didn’t like the idea of taking such a risk, but something in the way Miranda looked at him made him pause. She was vulnerable, yes—but she was also strong. And maybe, just maybe, Colin and Leslie deserved a taste of their own medicine.
Robert sighed. “Alright, Miranda. But let’s keep it low-key. I don’t want this to blow up on us.”
A flicker of satisfaction passed through Miranda’s eyes. She didn’t need anything elaborate—just enough to make Colin and Leslie feel what she had felt: humiliated, embarrassed, and exposed. Just enough to make them regret treating her like a joke.
Miranda’s plan was simple: make them feel what she had felt. She wasn’t thinking about the consequences, only about the revenge she so desperately needed. With trembling hands, she mixed the hottest sauce she could create—a concoction designed to bring fire to anyone who dared to try it. As she wrapped the napkin around the drenched napkins, a sense of grim satisfaction filled her. This will show them.
She handed the napkin to Robert, her eyes steely with purpose. “Use this,” she instructed, her voice low and cold. “Make sure it’s in their stew.”
Robert hesitated but did as she asked, slipping the sauce into their food with the quiet efficiency of someone who had seen much but rarely indulged in petty schemes. Miranda wasn’t thinking about the restaurant’s reputation or what would happen if things went too far. She wanted to see Colin and Leslie suffer, just for a moment.
When the plates were finally set in front of Colin and Leslie, their sharp words and mocking glances followed soon after.
Leslie was the first to speak, looking down at the steaming bowl of Mexican stew in front of her with a haughty sneer. “Is this spicy?” she scoffed. “This is what you call a spicy Mexican stew?” Her words dripped with disdain, completely unaware of what she was about to endure.
Before Colin could even take a proper bite, his face immediately contorted. The heat from the stew hit him like a sledgehammer. He gasped for air, his skin flushing a deep crimson as his body seemed to betray him. His eyes bulged with panic, his mouth opening and closing as though he were trying to breathe in air that had suddenly become too thick to swallow. He wiped his mouth frantically with a tissue, his throat tightening with every desperate breath.
“Colin, just try to breathe,” Leslie tried to comfort him, her voice unnervingly calm, but the panic in her eyes was unmistakable. She rubbed his back as if she could somehow erase the burn from his body.
But it was no use. The spice had done its job, and Colin was in full-blown agony. He gasped for air, clutching his chest, his face twisted in pain as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.
Leslie’s posture started to falter as well. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she looked around, mortified as the other diners began to notice. Whispers filled the air, followed by stifled giggles. A few patrons were openly laughing at the scene, unable to hold back their amusement. Leslie’s eyes darted to the surrounding tables, seeing her own humiliation mirrored in the smirks and laughter of strangers.
This is what you get, Miranda thought, standing at the counter, watching the chaos unfold. She felt a strange sense of vindication—watching Colin and Leslie suffer was sweet, but the consequences were beginning to hit her.
As the heat from the stew overwhelmed Colin and Leslie, Miranda couldn’t help but wonder if the price of her revenge had been worth it. Would the laughs of the other patrons truly soothe the sting of their cruel betrayal? Or had she just crossed a line she could never uncross?
As the heat continued to radiate from Colin, his face a mixture of disbelief and discomfort, his patience wore thin. Unable to tolerate the situation any longer, he exploded. “This is intolerable! We’re done!” With that, he hurried off, dragging Leslie behind him.
Miranda stood still, her heart racing, but a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The spectacle, her revenge, had unfolded perfectly. They thought they could fool me, lead me to believe we’d be happy together, she mused. But fate had other plans.
Colin’s shout echoed through the restaurant as he, still visibly pained, shouted for Miranda to be fired. “She messed with my dish!” His voice was hoarse, and despite his discomfort, the bitterness in his words was unmistakable.
But before the situation could spiral further, Michael, the restaurant’s calm and collected manager, intervened. He approached the table with an air of quiet authority, sampling Colin’s stew as he did. After a moment of tasting, Michael turned to Colin and said, “This food is fine, sir. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Colin, his anger bubbling up, tried to protest, but Michael cut him off gently, “Miranda has been with us for a long time. She wouldn’t intentionally ruin a meal.” Michael then tactfully concealed the hot napkin from view, his professionalism shining through. He looked at Miranda, offering a subtle, wordless gesture of solidarity.
Miranda, her breath slow and controlled, met Michael’s gaze. In that brief moment, the understanding between them was mutual. Her eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of reassurance—there was someone who had her back.
Colin, still seething, looked around the restaurant, hoping to find someone who would back his version of events. But the other patrons remained silent, only observing. Leslie, who had been just as cruel earlier, was nowhere to be seen, leaving Colin isolated in his frustration.
Michael, not one to let the tension linger, offered Colin a piece of advice. His voice was steady, but his words carried weight. “You know, Colin, sometimes the heat comes from our behavior toward others, rather than the food. Perhaps consider that, okay?”
Colin, his face still flushed with discomfort and anger, didn’t reply. But the weight of Michael’s words hung in the air, an unspoken reminder that actions have consequences—sometimes far greater than we realize.
Miranda, watching from the sidelines, felt a sense of calm wash over her. She had survived this ordeal—though the journey ahead was uncertain, she knew that with the support of those who truly understood her, she could face anything.
Miranda experienced a surge of delight when Colin was rendered mute. She had seen how empathy and understanding brought people together and had discovered a clever and powerful technique to defend herself.
She learned that there are friends everywhere, even during difficult times, when Michael decided to defend her and teach Colin the value of humility and respect.
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