When Cassie returns from a getaway with her husband and son, she walks into her home to see a cryptic message from her mother — telling her to watch a video. As Cassie presses play, her entire life changes. In the end, she’s left wondering which of her parents are worthy of forgiveness.
In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. He was everything I needed him to be and more. He was a businessman who was always traveling, but he ensured that he made enough time for me.
“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” he would say, bopping my nose with his index finger. “You’re the most special.”
My parents always went out of their way for me — ensuring that despite their busy schedules, we would have family dinner almost every night.
It was the one thing that kept me grounded while both of my friends from school were in the middle of their parents’ messy divorces.
“I think it’s trendy now,” I told my mother as she cut slices of banana bread for me after school one day.
“Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy,” she laughed. “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”
“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I explained to her. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”
I was fourteen, and the world seemed more dramatic than it should have been.
But what I didn’t know was that my words seemed to be an incantation that settled over our home.
A few weeks after that conversation, my father went away on a business trip. A few hours after he had been gone, there was news of his passing.
“How?” I asked. “How did he die?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” she replied. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”
“So what will we do next?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled by the question.
“For the funeral?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to have one?”
“I don’t think so,” my mother replied. “Dad wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at the beach. Let’s do that instead.”
I couldn’t fathom why my mother would want to do that — but at the end of the day, she knew my father best. And the longer I thought about it, the more beautiful and sentimental a private ceremony at the beach felt.
“Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” my mother said when she saw me thinking about my next move.
“I’m not,” I said. “Really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a great idea, Mom.”
I could have fought her for a send-off that I thought would have been more appropriate. But what use would it have been? At the end of the day, we had both lost him.
The months following the beach ceremony felt weighted, and I knew that I was becoming deeply depressed — my father had been our world. And his absence was felt more than anything.
But, with time, I learned to live with it.
Last week, I decided to book a cabin in the woods for a little family vacation. My son was adamant that camping was the new best thing, and I knew that despite the wonders of nature, I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom in sight.
Instead, I thought that a cabin would be the best option — my husband, Derek, could camp outside with Drew, our son, if he insisted on it.
We had a dog, therefore, I asked my mother to house-sit for the week so that we could be at peace, knowing that Romeo was taken care of.
A week away was more than enough to restore my mind — and eventually, when we went back home, I was surprised to see that my mother wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like she had never been there.
But there, on the coffee table, was a note beneath the TV remote.
Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom
I didn’t know what was in store for me, but while Derek got Drew into the bath, I put the TV on and began to watch whatever my mother had planned.
The TV flickered to life, and there he was, my father, his voice a long-lost melody, his image aged but still, unmistakably him.
Tears streamed down my face as the realization that he was still alive enveloped me in a mix of joy and disbelief.
The video message was nothing short of unpredictable.
My dear Cassie, I’m still here, alive. I’m so sorry for the pain that you must have felt from my loss. But it was needed. I needed to be removed from your life because of the sordid truth of my past. Your mother knows everything, please ask her for the truth.
My health is on a steady decline, and I would love to see you and explain it all.
Love you, Dad.
Without telling Derek or Drew anything, I grabbed the car keys and ran out. I needed my mother to explain.
“So, I bet you’ve got questions for me,” she said, opening the door.
“Explain it all,” I said.
“Cassie, it’s heavy. You look tired from your trip; are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.
I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to know why my father faked his own death to get out of our lives.
My mother made us some tea and took out some shortbread.
“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”
I sipped my tea, trying to figure out what my mother was about to tell me.
“I remember that you were telling me about your friend’s parents getting divorced. Do you remember that?” she asked.
I nodded. Of course, I did. It was the strangest thing, but it was so common when I was in school.
“Well, your father and I were not legally married. So when I told him about our conversation regarding divorce, he was actually relieved. Without being married, there would be no divorce.”
“What’s the big deal?” I asked.
“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”
“What?” I exclaimed, almost dropping my cup. “To who?”
“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”
“You didn’t know?” I asked, unable to believe her words.
“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “But when I pressed him about it, he decided to choose that family over us. So, I told him that the story was going to be his death.”
We were both silent for a moment.
Turns out that my mother told him that she would never tell me the truth, not when he was my favorite person. She couldn’t burst my bubble in that way. And she refused to let him see me one more time.
“It was better for you to think that it was an accident,” my mother said. “It just made more sense.”
Now, I understood why we didn’t have a funeral for him.
“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I asked.
“Dust,” she replied with a straight face.
My mother had spoken to him twice over the years. The second time being a day ago.
During their meeting, my father confessed his imminent death due to illness and requested that she give me the recording. My mother, torn by guilt and love, chose to write me the note and have the recording all set for me to watch.
“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she said. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”
Compelled by a need to confront the reality of my father’s existence, I traveled to the state where he lived with his other family.
I spent a few weeks with my father — going in and out of hospitals, watching him take an array of different medication, and growing weaker by the day.
Sitting at his bedside, I listened to his stories, the regrets, the moments of joy, and the love he had for all his children — myself included.
When things started to go downhill, I asked Derek to fly over with Drew. It was going to be a fleeting moment, but at least I’d know that my son had met my father.
A few days later, my father died.
Even now, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for the lie of having a double life. I just know that when it came to it in the end — I wanted to spend time with him. I had shoved my feelings aside, hoping for memories that I could figure out later.
But now that the dust has settled, I’m trying to figure out if I should forgive my mother for lying.
What would you do?
Business-Class Teen Passenger Threw Chips at Me While His Dad Laughed – They Had No Idea They’d Regret It an Hour Later
When Samantha, a modest woman, boards a business-class flight, she becomes the target of a bratty teen’s antics and his father’s mockery. Little did they know, their paths would cross again just hours later, leading to a twist neither of them could have predicted — one the father-son duo would deeply regret.
A few weeks ago, I received a letter — a real, honest-to-God, fancy letter in one of those thick, cream-colored envelopes. It was from a lawyer telling me I was a candidate for an inheritance from my late grandmother’s sister.
Woman opening a letter | Source: Pexels
I barely knew the woman, so you can imagine my surprise when I found out I might inherit something from her.
That’s how I found myself on a business-class flight to Dallas. Just as I was getting settled, I noticed this teenager in the row ahead of me. He couldn’t have been more than 15, but he was already a professional brat.
He was loud and obnoxious and made a scene just for the sake of it. His father, sitting right next to him, wasn’t any better.
A teen boy | Source: Pexels
Instead of telling his kid to calm down, he was egging him on, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. I mean, who does that?
I tried to tune them out, but it was impossible. The kid — Dean, I think I heard his father call him — started throwing chips over the seat, and of course, they landed right on me. I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and leaned forward.
“Hey, what are you doing? Calm down, kid!” I said.
A frowning woman on a plane | Source: Midjourney
I hate confrontation, but I wasn’t about to let some teenager treat me like a target practice dummy.
Dean turned around, smirking as if he’d just won the lottery.
“Calm down, kid! Calm down!” he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. And then, he threw another handful of chips right at my face.
I was stunned. Who acts like this? I looked at his father, hoping he’d step in and say something, but no.
The man was laughing so hard he was practically in tears.
A man laughing | Source: Pexels
“Excuse me, are you this kid’s father?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
“Hold on,” the man said, his voice full of amusement. “I’m recording this! Can you say ‘Calm down, kid!’ one more time?”
I couldn’t believe it. I felt the anger bubbling up inside me, but instead of snapping — which, believe me, I was close to doing — I just pressed the call button for the flight attendant.
A flight attendant | Source: Unsplash
When she arrived, I explained the situation as calmly as I could, and she was a godsend. She moved me to another seat without making a fuss.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about that kid and his father. How could people act like that? So entitled, so cruel, just because they could.
I’m not naive; I know the world isn’t always fair, but this was something else. It was like they didn’t see me as a person, just an object to be ridiculed.
A sad and thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels
When the plane finally landed, I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the taxi stand. I was exhausted from the flight and trying to keep my emotions in check. All I could think about was getting to the lawyer’s office and getting this over with.
As the taxi weaved through the traffic, a knot of nerves formed in my stomach. What if this inheritance wasn’t real? What if it was just some cruel joke? I didn’t know what to expect, and that scared me more than I cared to admit.
Traffic | Source: Pexels
I arrived at the lawyer’s office and walked inside. The receptionist directed me to the waiting area, and that’s when I saw them.
The bratty duo from the plane.
I froze in the doorway as the father stared at me, my heart pounding in my ears. What were they doing here? My mind raced as I tried to make sense of it. And then it hit me — they were here for the same reason I was.
They must be related to my grandmother’s sister somehow. I couldn’t believe the coincidence.
A father and son | Source: Midjourney
I’ve never been one to believe in fate or destiny or any of that. Life is what you make of it, right? But sitting in that stuffy lawyer’s office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger was at play.
The lawyer, Mr. Thompson, was the kind of man who seemed like he was born in a three-piece suit. He cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension that had been building since we sat down and he introduced us all.
“Thank you all for being here,” he began, his voice smooth as silk.
A man | Source: Pexels
“As you know, the late Ms. Harper had no children of her own, but she was fond of her nieces and nephews. It was her wish that her estate be passed on to one of her sisters’ grandchildren.”
I glanced over at Richard, the bratty teen’s father, sitting with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face like he already knew he’d won.
Mr. Thompson continued, oblivious to the tension. “Ms. Harper, in her unique way, decided to leave this decision up to a coin toss. She believed that fate would guide her fortune to the right person.”
A man holding papers | Source: Pexels
“Unique” was one way to put it. Crazy might have been another, but I kept that thought to myself. I mean, who decides to leave their entire estate to someone based on a coin toss?
Richard scoffed, rolling his eyes. “A coin toss? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Mr. Thompson looked up, his expression unchanging. “It was her final wish.”
Mr. Thompson pulled out a silver coin from his pocket and held it up. It caught the light from the window. My breath hitched as he placed the coin on his thumb, ready to flip it.
A coin | Source: Pexels
“This coin toss will determine who inherits Ms. Harper’s estate,” he said, his voice steady. “Heads, it goes to Ms. Rogers. Tails, it goes to Mr. Gray.”
The room fell into a tense silence, and I could almost hear the sound of my own heartbeat. I glanced at Richard, who was suddenly very still, his eyes locked on the coin. Dean had finally stopped fidgeting.
Mr. Thompson flicked his thumb, and the coin spun in the air, catching the light with every rotation.
Woman staring | Source: Midjourney
Time seemed to slow as I watched it spin, my entire future hanging on the outcome of this one ridiculous coin toss. It felt like forever before the coin finally landed on the table with a soft clink.
Heads.
I blinked, not quite processing what I was seeing. Heads. I won. The estate and everything was mine.
Richard was the first to react. He shot up from his seat, his face flushed with anger.
A furious man | Source: Pexels
“This is bull!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “I’ve got debts, serious debts! I was counting on this money!”
Mr. Thompson remained calm, his expression unchanged. “I’m afraid the decision is final.”
“But I deserve that money!” Richard’s voice was rising, desperation creeping in around the edges. “I’ve got bills to pay! I—”
“That’s not my concern,” Mr. Thompson interrupted, his voice cool and detached. “The will is clear. The estate goes to Ms. Rogers.”
Dean looked from his father to me, his bravado from earlier completely gone.
A teen boy | Source: Pexels
I sat there, stunned, as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. I won. I actually won. But instead of the joy or relief I expected to feel, all I felt was this strange sense of disbelief, like I was watching it all happen to someone else.
Richard slumped back in his chair, and all the fight drained out of him. He looked at me, his eyes full of anger and something else, something that looked a lot like fear.
“You think you deserve this?” he spat, his voice low and venomous.
An angry man | Source: Pexels
“You don’t even know her. You’re just some nobody who got lucky.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Mr. Thompson beat me to it. “That’s enough, Mr. Gray. The decision has been made. I suggest you accept it with grace.”
Grace. There was nothing graceful about how Richard was falling apart in front of me. I could see it now, the desperation, the panic.
He wasn’t just upset; he was terrified. He had counted on this inheritance, maybe even planned his whole life around it. And now it was gone.
A woman | Source: Pexels
I stood up, my legs feeling shaky, and looked at Mr. Thompson. “Thank you,” I said, my voice quieter than intended.
He nodded, a small, reassuring gesture. “You’re welcome, Ms. Rogers. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
I nodded back, feeling like I was in a daze. As I walked past Richard and Dean, they avoided my gaze, their earlier arrogance completely shattered. They were a far cry from the people who had mocked me on the plane.
A woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Unsplash
Now, they were just two people who had lost everything, and I was the one who had it all.
Karma, fate, whatever you want to call it, had dealt its hand, and for once, I had come out on top. But as I thought about Richard and Dean, their faces etched with fear and anger, I couldn’t help but wonder, was it really worth it?
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