After the spoiled heir of the estate he’s tended for decades cruelly fired Arthur, the humiliated gardener visited one special garden one last time. As he reminisced, Arthur noticed something strange, leading him to make a life-changing discovery.
I was on my knees in the east garden, hands deep in the cool soil, when Margaret from the kitchen staff rushed over, her face flushed with worry.
A woman hurrying through a garden | Source: Midjourney
“Arthur, have you heard? Mr. Stuart is coming home today. He’s taking over everything.”
I nodded slowly, carefully placing another bulb into the ground. “Yes, I heard.”
I’d been dreading this day since old Mr. Jared passed. For years, I’d tended these grounds and watched the seasons change from behind my wheelbarrow, pruning shears in hand.
A wheelbarrow filled with pruned foliage and garden tools | Source: Pexels
This estate knew my footprints better than any place on earth. And now Stuart was coming home to claim his inheritance.
“What will happen to us?” Margaret asked, her voice small against the vastness of the estate.
“We do our jobs,” I said simply. “That’s all we can do.”
A man transplanting a young plant | Source: Pexels
What I didn’t say was how my heart ached when I thought about Jared. He wasn’t just my employer — he was my friend.
We’d spent countless hours working side by side in the small garden behind the main house. There, among the climbing roses and stubborn weeds, we’d shared stories, silence, and laughter.
“Grandpa, I finished my homework. Can I help with the planting?”
A teen boy smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney
Eli, my 14-year-old grandson, stood at the garden’s edge.
Since the accident two years ago that took my daughter and her husband, Eli had been my reason for waking up each morning. He was polite, studious, and hungry for books in a way that amazed me.
“Sure, come on over. We’re putting in the spring bulbs.”
Plastic crates filled with bulbs and plants | Source: Pexels
We worked in comfortable silence until the sound of tires on gravel broke through the morning calm. A sleek car pulled up to the main house and out stepped Stuart.
“Is that him?” Eli whispered.
I nodded, watching as Stuart surveyed the property. It had been many years since I’d last seen him, but he had the same air of arrogance and entitlement as when he was a rude boy who pulled up the irises to spite me.
A haughty man standing near a luxury car | Source: Midjourney
“Remember what I told you,” I said quietly. “Be respectful, keep your distance, and—”
“Never let anyone make me feel small,” Eli finished. “I remember, Grandpa.”
The first few weeks with Stuart in charge were worse than I’d imagined.
The staff walked on eggshells as he inspected corners for dust and fired people for minor infractions.
A tense cleaner arranging a pair of slippers near a bed | Source: Pexels
Where Jared had been kind and thoughtful, his son was impatient and cruel.
“Arthur, isn’t it?” Stuart asked one afternoon, as though we’d never met before. “The gardener my father was so fond of.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, stopping my work to face him.
“These hedges look uneven. And those roses are half dead,” he declared. “My father may have tolerated mediocrity, but I expect excellence.”
A man examining a hedge | Source: Midjourney
I bit my tongue. “I’ll see to it right away, sir.”
“See that you do.”
As he walked away, I took a deep breath and returned to my pruning. I tried to forget Stuart’s criticism and his pretense at not knowing me, but I was concerned. I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
A man pruning a plant | Source: Pexels
The weeks turned into months, and with each passing day, Stuart’s parties grew louder, and his friends grew more reckless.
They’d roar through the gardens in expensive cars, laughing as they knocked over planters and scattered gravel.
The once peaceful estate became a playground for the rich and careless to party.
People partying | Source: Pexels
One morning in late summer, I was preparing to compost the beds when I heard angry footsteps approaching. Stuart stormed toward me, his face flushed with rage.
“You! Old man!”
My heart sank. Margaret had warned me to steer clear of Stuart that morning. Apparently, his latest gold-digging girlfriend had left him to go skiing in Switzerland, and Stuart was on a rampage.
A man staring at someone with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
I straightened up slowly, my knees creaking in protest. “Good morning, Mr. Stuart.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me. Did you see what happened to my car? Someone scratched the paint. Was it your grandson? That quiet, sneaky kid?”
“Eli was at school yesterday, sir. He’s been there all week for the summer program.”
“Well, someone did it. And since you’re supposed to be watching this place—”
“I’m the gardener, sir. Not security.”
A man working in a garden | Source: Midjourney
I instantly regretted my words, but it was too late. Stuart’s face contorted with anger.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of your attitude. You think because my father liked you, you’re untouchable? You call this work?” He kicked at a pile of weeds I’d pulled. “My dog could rake better than you! You’re nothing but a leftover from my father’s pity. Consider this your last day. I want you off my property by sunset.”
A shouting man | Source: Midjourney
The words hit hard, but I kept my expression neutral. As he stomped away, I felt a strange calm wash over me. Maybe it was for the best.
I removed my uniform overalls and walked to the garden Jared and I had tended together. I hadn’t touched this spot since Jared died because the memories were too painful.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jared,” I said as I kneeled by the garden. “The least I can do for you before I go is clear away the weeds.”
A man in a garden staring sadly at the plants | Source: Midjourney
As I was working, I noticed a patch of ground that had been disturbed.
It wasn’t recent, but I knew this garden better than the back of my hand and someone had been digging here and left half the bulbs to wither and die on the surface.
I dug into the earth with my hands. Soon, I felt a hard surface beneath my fingers. I cleared away the dirt and soon uncovered a small wooden chest, sealed with a simple latch.
A chest in a hole | Source: Midjourney
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside, neatly arranged, were bundles of cash, small gold bars, and a folded note. I recognized Jared’s handwriting immediately.
“This is for you, friend. I know you need this! I love you. Your friend, Jared.”
Tears fell onto the paper as I clutched it to my chest.
A sad man staring down at something | Source: Midjourney
Even in death, Jared had found a way to look after us. The cruel irony wasn’t lost on me — being fired had led me to this discovery, this last gift from a true friend.
I left the estate without another word to Stuart.
The next day, I went to the bank and opened a safe deposit box. I transferred everything from Jared’s box into it and placed it in Eli’s name. Not for now, but for his future.
Safety deposit boxes | Source: Pexels
I found work maintaining the grounds at the local high school. The pay wasn’t much, but it was honest work, and I could be close to Eli during the day.
Two years passed faster than I expected.
Eli thrived in school — he was top of his class and his teachers were talking about scholarships and potential. He grew taller and stronger but kept his gentle nature and curious mind.
A cheerful teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
“Grandpa, I got accepted into the summer science program,” he announced one evening, waving the acceptance letter.
“That’s wonderful news,” I said, genuinely proud. “Your parents would be so proud of you.”
“Do you think Mr. Jared would be proud too?”
The question caught me off guard. “Yes, I think he would be very proud.”
AN earnest teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
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While we built our new life, news of Stuart’s downfall reached us through Margaret, who still worked at the estate.
His recklessness had finally caught up with him. He lost everything — the estate, the cars, and whatever illusion of control he’d once had.
“They say he’s moving out next week,” Margaret told me when we met for coffee. “The bank’s selling the place.”
The interior of a cozy coffee shop | Source: Pexels
I nodded, feeling no satisfaction in his misfortune. “That’s a shame.”
“A shame? After how he treated you? Arthur, you’re too kind for your own good.”
Perhaps I was. But bitterness was a luxury I couldn’t afford, not with Eli watching and learning from every reaction, every word.
One evening, as Eli and I walked toward the park, he asked me a question that had been on his mind.
A thoughtful teen boy on a city street | Source: Midjourney
“Grandpa, are you ever going to tell me what was in that box you brought from the estate?”
I looked at him — no longer a boy, but not quite a man — and saw in him the future Jared had helped secure.
“When you’re ready,” I said with a small smile. “When the time is right.”
“And when will that be?”
A man and his grandson entering a city park | Source: Midjourney
“When you’ve built a foundation strong enough that it won’t change who you are.” I squeezed his shoulder gently. “Some gifts aren’t meant to be opened right away.”
As we continued our walk, I thought about Jared, about the garden we’d tended together, and about the seeds we plant that grow long after we’re gone. Some in soil, some in souls. Both lasting far beyond what we can see.
My Boyfriend Made My Life a Living Hell after I Publicly Rejected His Marriage Proposal – Is My Revenge Justified?
When Mandy turns down her boyfriend’s unexpected proposal, he spitefully sabotages her career, leaving her jobless and financially strained. But Mandy knows Jeff’s darkest secrets, and with nothing left to lose, she sets out to get her revenge.
So, I’m a 26-year-old junior attorney, totally immersed in my career. My boyfriend, Jeff, is 29, ambitious, and determined. We’ve been together for a year and a half. Everything was going great until he proposed.
A man hides an engagement ring behind his back | Source: Pexels
Last weekend, both our families decided to spend the day at Disneyland. It was supposed to be a fun family outing, enjoying the rides and all.
We were standing in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle as the sun began to set. Out of nowhere, Jeff got down on one knee. My heart skipped a beat. His brother handed him a bouquet of roses, and Jeff looked up at me with this hopeful smile.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
A man proposing to a woman | Source: Pexels
I was stunned. Like, deer-in-headlights stunned. My mind raced. We’d talked about the future, sure, but nothing about marriage. We were both so focused on our careers. How could he think this was the right time?
My heart pounded in my chest as I took in the excited looks on our families’ faces. Both our Moms had their phones out, recording every minute, and Dad was watching me with such pride.
I hated to disappoint them all, but I had to answer Jeff honestly.
A woman clenching her jaw | Source: Pexels
“I-I’m not ready,” I stammered, feeling a wave of panic. “This is too soon.”
The crowd around us started to murmur. I could hear gasps, and someone even whispered, “Did she just say no?”
Jeff’s face fell. The hopeful smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter betrayal. “You will regret this,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and menacing.
The atmosphere turned icy.
An angry man with partially shadowed face | Source: Pexels
Our families were in shock. My mom’s mouth was hanging open, and Jeff’s mom looked like she was about to cry. The magic of Disneyland was completely shattered.
We left shortly after, and the car ride home was filled with an unbearable silence. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just made a huge mistake, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t ready for marriage. Not yet.
When we got home, Jeff wouldn’t even look at me.
A man sits at a table with his head resting in one hand | Source: Pexels
I tried to explain how I felt, but he was having none of it.
“I thought we were on the same page,” he snapped. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you, Jeff,” I said, my voice shaking. “But this isn’t about love. It’s about being ready for a lifelong commitment. I’m just not there yet.”
He shook his head, looking more hurt than I’d ever seen him. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone. You’ll pay for that.”
A man glaring | Source: Pexels
And that was just the beginning of the nightmare. I tried to give Jeff space, thinking things might calm down. Things were still tense between us, but he helped me fix some technical issues on my laptop and we even went out for dinner that weekend.
While I was daydreaming about our relationship getting back to normal, little did I know, Jeff had already put his revenge plan in motion. My life was about to be turned upside down.
That Monday, my boss called me into his office.
A businessman at his desk | Source: Pexels
“What have you done?” Mr. Barnes snapped once I entered. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”
“Find out about what, sir?” I asked, utterly bewildered by his questions.
“About this!” he replied, turning his laptop around so the screen faced me. I leaned in closer and my heart skipped a beat.
Confidential information for one of our top clients was going viral in an online forum. The documents being shared had our firm’s letterhead, and all of them came from cases I was working on.
A shocked woman standing against a wall | Source: Pexels
“I didn’t do this, Mr. Barnes, I swear!” I said. “We must’ve been hacked, or—”
“These files were shared from your laptop!” Mr. Barnes thumped his hand against his desk. “The IT department has confirmed it.
That’s when it hit me. Jeff had helped me fix my laptop when it was acting up the previous week. He must’ve shared the files to ruin my reputation. I started explaining the situation to Mr. Barnes, but he cut me off.
A furious man hits a desk | Source: Pexels
“It doesn’t matter if your boyfriend shared the files,” he said. “The fact is, it happened under your watch. We can’t afford this kind of mistake, especially not now.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, sir. I’ll do everything in my power to fix this.”
“There is no fixing this, Mandy!” He yelled. “You’re fired.”
I couldn’t believe Jeff had done this to me. As I packed up my things, my colleagues avoided eye contact, whispers following me down the hallway.
A woman crying | Source: Pexels
It felt like a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from.
When I got home, things took another turn for the worse. Jeff had moved out. He left me a note, if you could call it that, scribbled angrily on the back of an envelope: “You brought this on yourself.”
Not only had he left, but he trashed the place on his way out. The coffee table was shattered, the dining chairs were broken, and even the TV stand was in pieces.
Damaged kitchen | Source: Pexels
With the lease in my name, I was stuck covering the costs. Most of my savings were already tied up in student loans, and now I had to figure out how to pay for the damages.
I felt desperate, hurt, and utterly betrayed. How could someone I loved and trusted do this to me? Every day was a struggle, and I couldn’t believe my life had turned into such a mess.
One night, I made a decision. I wasn’t going to let Jeff get away with this.
A determined woman glares at the camera | Source: Pexels
Over the months we were together, he had boasted about his involvement in insider trading and shady financial dealings. He thought he was invincible, but I knew better.
I started gathering evidence, recalling every detail he had let slip. It was a painstaking process, but it gave me a sense of purpose. I compiled everything into a detailed dossier, leveraging my legal skills to make it airtight.
Finally, I anonymously sent the dossier to his company’s HR department, the SEC, and several major clients.
A folder containing top secret information | Source: Pexels
It was a risky move, but I had nothing left to lose.
As I hit send, I felt a mix of fear and relief. Fear of what might happen next, but relief that I was finally taking control of my life. I knew the fallout would be massive, but after everything Jeff had done, it felt justified.
A few days later, I got a call from one of our mutual friends.
A woman using her smart phone | Source: Pexels
“Hey, have you heard about Jeff?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
“No, what happened?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but my heart was pounding.
“Apparently, he got called into a meeting at work, and they fired him on the spot. There was some kind of investigation, and now he’s in deep trouble.”
I hung up, feeling a mix of vindication and relief. But there was also a pang of guilt. Had I gone too far?
A woman staring thoughtfully | Source: Pexels
Later that week, more news started to trickle in. Jeff’s company had launched a full-blown internal investigation, and the SEC was hot on his trail. Turns out the evidence I provided was more than enough to open a serious case against him.
Insider trading and financial fraud are no joke, and Jeff was facing the full brunt of the law.
One evening, I got another call—this time, from an old colleague who knew both of us.
A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“You won’t believe this,” she said. “Jeff’s been blacklisted in the industry. No one wants to touch him with a ten-foot pole. Even his friends are distancing themselves.”
Hearing that, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Jeff had always been so smug, so sure that he could get away with anything. Now, he was paying the price for his arrogance.
I had lost my job, my savings were drained, and my trust in people was shattered. But seeing Jeff face the consequences of his actions gave me a sense of closure.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
He had tried to break me, but in the end, it was his own downfall that was most spectacular.
Am I proud of what I did? Not entirely. Part of me wishes things could have ended differently. But another part of me knows that sometimes, justice has to be served, even if it means getting your hands a little dirty.
What do you think? Is my revenge justified or did I go too far?
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