“Shayla Finally Faces Her Own Karma”read more

“Shayla Finally Faces Her Own Karma”

The house was quiet that morning, too quiet for Shayla’s liking. She woke up expecting Iman to be beside her, but the other side of the bed was cold. His phone wasn’t on the nightstand either. She frowned, brushing her hair out of her face as she sat up. The silence felt heavy, the kind that comes before bad news.

She checked her phone—no message, no missed call. Nothing. Just a pit in her stomach that told her something wasn’t right.

She walked downstairs, calling his name softly. “Iman?”

No answer. Only the faint sound of his car engine fading down the street.

Her chest tightened. He hadn’t told her he was going anywhere. That wasn’t like him… at least, not the old Iman. Lately, he had become colder, distant, and harder to read. She used to control the mood in the house—now she barely controlled his attention.

A notification popped up on her phone. A photo. It was from Amber’s story. Iman was there, smiling. That same easy, charming smile Shayla used to think belonged only to her.

For a second, she froze. Maybe it was an old picture. Maybe it meant nothing. But her heart knew. The way his hand rested on Amber’s shoulder—it wasn’t accidental.

Her blood boiled. She grabbed her keys, slipped into her sandals, and drove. The road blurred. Every red light felt like the universe mocking her.

When she reached Amber’s place, her hands were shaking. She knocked once, twice—then pushed the door open when she heard voices inside.

“Iman,” she said sharply.

He turned, startled but calm, like he expected her. Amber was sitting on the couch, phone in hand, not even pretending to look guilty.

“What is this?” Shayla demanded. “You’re seriously sitting here like nothing’s wrong?”

Iman took a deep breath. “Shayla, don’t start. You knew this was coming.”

Her jaw dropped. “Coming? Are you hearing yourself? You left me in bed to come here?”

Amber smirked slightly. “Maybe if you treated him right, he wouldn’t be here.”

Shayla snapped her head toward her. “Stay out of this, Amber. You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

Amber stood, eyes cold. “Oh, I know exactly what you’ve done. You played everyone. You lied, manipulated, used him whenever it suited you. Now you’re shocked that karma showed up at your door?”

The words hit hard. Shayla wanted to deny it, but her throat tightened. She had used Iman. She’d played with his loyalty, tested his patience, made him beg for her trust while she secretly entertained others just to feel powerful.

Iman looked at her quietly, the disappointment in his eyes cutting deeper than any shout could.

“I loved you, Shayla,” he said slowly. “But love can’t survive when it’s constantly humiliated. You pushed me away again and again. At some point, I stopped trying.”

Shayla’s voice cracked. “So that’s it? You run to her?”

Amber crossed her arms. “He didn’t run. He walked away from a woman who treated him like a backup plan.”

Shayla glared at her, tears threatening. “You think you’re any better? You waited in the shadows for your chance. You knew we were together.”

Amber tilted her head. “Yeah. And I also knew he deserved peace, not chaos.”

Iman finally spoke, quiet but firm. “This isn’t about her, Shayla. It’s about you. You always said karma doesn’t scare you. Maybe it’s time you meet her.”

The words sank deep, cold and sharp. Shayla’s lips trembled. “Iman… I messed up, okay? I said things I didn’t mean. But you can’t just walk away like this.”

He shook his head. “I already did.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Shayla looked around, her vision blurring. The walls seemed to close in. All the control, all the power she once had—it vanished.

Amber stepped closer to Iman, resting her hand on his arm. The simple touch burned Shayla’s pride to ashes.

“You’ll regret this,” Shayla whispered.

Amber looked her straight in the eye. “No. You will.”

Shayla turned away, storming out, but her legs felt weak. By the time she reached her car, her chest hurt. She sat behind the wheel, staring at the steering wheel like it held answers.

Memories flashed—nights she made Iman beg for attention, moments she ignored his calls just to make him chase her, the day she humiliated him in front of Amber just to prove a point.

And now… the same woman she mocked was the one he turned to.

Karma had a cruel sense of timing.

She drove home slowly, her reflection in the rearview mirror looking like a stranger. Her phone buzzed. One message. From Iman.

> “I’m moving out. Take care of yourself.”

Her fingers hovered over the screen, trembling. She wanted to reply, to scream, to beg—but she knew it was useless.

She stared at the message until her eyes burned.

Later that night, she opened social media again. Iman had posted a picture with Amber—nothing dramatic, just a caption that read “Peace feels good.”

The comments were full of heart emojis, people cheering for them. The same people who once praised Shayla for being “the strong one” now called her toxic, manipulative, fake.

She threw her phone onto the couch and buried her face in her hands. The tears she always thought she’d never cry finally came.

In that silence, she realized something—karma doesn’t always come loud or violent. Sometimes it just walks out of your life quietly, taking everything you thought you controlled.

Days passed. Shayla tried calling, but Iman never picked up. Amber didn’t block her either; she wanted Shayla to see every post, every smile, every piece of happiness she no longer owned.

One afternoon, Shayla went to a café near the old park where she and Iman used to talk for hours. She sat alone, sipping coffee that had long gone cold, scrolling through her old photos of them.

A couple walked in—laughing softly. Iman and Amber.

Her breath caught.

They didn’t notice her at first. He was pulling the chair out for Amber, smiling, saying something that made her laugh. It was the same smile he used to give Shayla before she turned love into competition.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping the floor. Iman looked up, their eyes meeting for just a second. No hate, no anger—just quiet finality.

Amber saw her too, then gently reached for Iman’s hand.

That tiny gesture said everything.

Shayla swallowed hard and turned away, walking out of the café into the sunlight. The air felt heavy, like it carried all the things she couldn’t change.

She knew she couldn’t blame Amber. She couldn’t even hate Iman anymore. The truth was simpler—and far more painful.

She’d built her world on pride and control. Karma tore it down, piece by piece, until nothing remained but the lesson.

Later that night, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, eyes red, face tired.

She whispered to herself, “I did this. I made this happen.”

And for the first time in a long time, she meant it.