Before disembarking the plane he had just landed, Captain Edward Blair noticed a lone man on the plane who refused to leave. Upon looking clearly, he realized the man was his carbon copy.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is Captain Edward Blair speaking. We have just landed at the Chicago Midway International Airport. We hope you enjoyed your flight with us, and we wish to see you on one of your future flights,” the captain spoke from the cockpit after successfully landing the aircraft.
After parking the plane, the captain and his first officer followed protocol by waiting for all passengers to disembark before leaving the cockpit. When it was their turn to leave, he opened the cockpit door and saw the flight purser talking to a man who refused to leave the plane.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Everything good here?” Edward asked, approaching them.
The flight purser nodded. “I’ll give you guys some time,” she smiled before walking towards the back of the plane.
Edward was confused about why she wanted to leave him alone with the passenger until he realized what she meant. There stood a man who looked exactly like him. Before he could say anything, the man spoke.
“Do you want to see mom?” he asked.
“I can’t believe my eyes. Is it you, Adam? Did mom ever come back? She’s alive and well?” Edward replied, so many thoughts suddenly rushing to his head.
Adam was Edward’s twin brother, whom he hadn’t seen in decades. Edward left the orphanage when he was eight, and they were now 32 years old.
“I asked you a question first. Do you want to see your mom?” Adam asked again with an impatient tone.
Edward nodded, and Adam stepped out of the plane. Edward followed behind and the two of them got into a taxi heading towards the city.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
On the way, Adam was silent the entire time. Meanwhile, Edward couldn’t help but try and explain himself with tears in his eyes.
“When she left us at the orphanage, I really didn’t think she’d ever come back. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I understood that she couldn’t feed us because dad left, but I thought she left us because a part of her wanted to leave us too. I didn’t think she’d ever come back, Adam,” he explained.
“So instead, you agreed to be adopted by a wealthy family. You chose them over ME! I begged you for days not to leave me in that place, but you chose to live a life of comfort over your own blood. She came back a year after you left, and she couldn’t forgive herself for losing you,” Adam answered back.
“Up until today, she blames herself for not having enough to keep you. Don’t get me wrong – I hate you. In fact, I hate you as much as I hate our father. I stopped looking for you years ago, but when I heard your name on that plane, I remembered mom and her wish to see you,” he added with gritted teeth.
After a couple of minutes, the taxi came to a stop. Adam got out and stormed towards an old house that surprised Edward. He realized that his brother and mother lived in poverty.
Although Adam had a long-time girlfriend, he could not ask her to marry him because he spent most of his time working and caring for his sick mother. He’s always wanted to settle down and start a family, but he felt indebted to his mom and wanted to make sure she lived the rest of her life comfortably.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
As they entered the house, Edward immediately saw his mother, Annie, in a wheelchair, sitting in their living room. When she saw both her sons in the same room, she sobbed and could not calm down.
“Oh my god, it’s you, Edward. Adam, you and your brother are both here. You’re back,” she sobbed, bringing her wheelchair closer to her sons.
“He’s not back, mom. He just came to see you, but he’ll be back in his mansion when the night ends,” Adam said passively while pouring a glass of water for his mom to calm down.
Edward didn’t hesitate to walk toward his mom, hug her and beg for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, mom. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you’d come back for us. I wish you could forgive me,” he cried.
“I don’t blame you, son. I don’t blame you at all. I am sorry for not being able to give you and Adam a good life from the beginning. I wish I could, but it was so difficult for me to find work. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so glad that you’re here,” his mother replied, stroking his hair as they embraced.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Would you like to stay the night? We have a lot to catch up on. I’d love for you to spend more time with us,” she asked him.
“I’m sorry, mom, but I have to go home tonight. I got a job in France, so my adoptive parents and I will be moving. The flight back home to Chicago was my last one here. I think it was meant to be that Adam was in the flight, as I got to see you,” he explained.
After hearing that his son was moving to Europe, Annie was heartbroken. “You’re leaving?” she said weakly. “I wish we could have found each other sooner… I’m sad that our time together was so short.”
“I’m sorry, mom. I will visit you as much as I can. I am sure I’ll have flights to the US,” Edward said, apologizing once more.
“Stop getting her hopes up. She doesn’t deserve to be heartbroken at her age. Get out!” Adam retorted, realizing that his brother simply just wanted to see their mother but not build a connection with her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
A couple of days after their encounter, Adam noticed a transportation service arrive in the house across from theirs, and men started loading furniture inside, along with appliances.
“Mom, it seems someone bought the house right in front of ours. We’ll have new neighbors soon,” he told her.
Annie was delighted, as she had always wanted neighbors. She enjoyed baking and was looking to share her creations with other people.
However, they were surprised when the man who followed shortly after, driving a luxury vehicle, turned out to be Edward. Adam and Annie opened their front door to confront him. “What are you doing here?” Adam asked his brother.
“I spoke to my wife about what happened the other day, and we both realized that our home wasn’t in France, but here. I turned down the job offer from the French airline and told my adoptive parents I wanted to relocate somewhere in Chicago instead. They understood and promised they’d keep in touch while they enjoyed their retirement in Europe,” Edward explained.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I am sorry that I never got a chance to look for you, mom. I know I’ve made many mistakes in the past, but I hope you give me a chance to prove to you that I am not a bad person and that I genuinely want to spend time with you. I want to reconnect with you too, Adam. We are brothers. I love you both, and I will prove just how much if you’d let me,” he added.
Annie could not believe it, and she began to cry. Edward introduced his wife Emma and young daughter Alex to Annie and Adam, warming their hearts. While Annie caught up with Alex and Emma, Adam and Edward had a good talk.
“I know you don’t trust me at all, Adam, but please give me this chance to prove to you that I have good intentions for you and mom,” he begged.
“I’m willing to let go of my past issues for mom’s sake. She looks happy, and that’s all that matters to me,” Adam admitted.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The brothers caught up with one another, and Edward found out that Adam had a long-time girlfriend he wanted to marry. He volunteered to take care of their mother in the house next door while Adam worked on his own personal relationship.
Edward had Adam’s house repaired, and the renovations made it look good as new. Adam began to work on his personal life while Edward and his family cared for Annie next door. The family would get together every night for a good meal and conversation.
What can we learn from this story?
- People meant to be in your life will always find their way back to you. Adam didn’t know that Edward was on his flight back to Chicago that day. Their chance encounter brought Edward back to the company of his mother and brother, whom he had not seen for years.
- It’s never too late to start over. Adam was angry at his brother Edward for abandoning him, but they were able to set aside their differences for the sake of their mom. They ended up rebuilding their relationships with one another, leading them to become a stronger and happier family.
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Someone Kept Throwing Eggs at My Husband’s Gravestone – One Day, I Saw Who It Was, and It Nearly Destroyed My Life
Every Sunday, I visited my husband’s grave to feel close to him, until I found raw eggs smashed against his gravestone. At first, I thought it was a cruel prank, but when I caught the culprit in the act, I was shattered to discover it was someone I trusted more than anyone else.
I lost my husband, Owen, one year ago. It was sudden. No warnings, no time to prepare. A heart attack stole him from me, just like that. Twenty-five years together, gone in a moment.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
For months, I felt like I was walking through fog. Everything hurt. I tried to keep things together for our kids, but inside, I was crumbling. Every Sunday, I’d visit his grave. It became my ritual, my way of feeling close to him.
The cemetery was peaceful. Quiet. Just me, Owen, and the flowers I brought each week. It felt like I could breathe there. But three months ago, something changed.
A winter cemetery | Source: Pexels
The first time, I thought I was seeing things. Eggshells. Yellow yolk smeared across the base of Owen’s gravestone.
“Why would anyone do this?” I whispered to myself, crouching down to clean it. I kept looking over my shoulder, thinking maybe it was just kids pulling a cruel prank.
A gravestone covered in eggs | Source: Midjourney
I cleaned it, thinking it was a one-time thing. But two weeks later, it happened again. This time, there were more eggs—at least six. Broken, dripping down the stone. I cleaned it again, but my heart felt heavier.
I tried asking the cemetery staff for help.
“There’s been some vandalism at my husband’s grave,” I told the man at the desk. He looked bored, barely glancing up.
A sad woman talking to a man in an office | Source: Midjourney
“You can file a report,” he said, sliding a clipboard toward me.
“That’s it? Don’t you have cameras or something?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not in the newer sections. Sorry.”
I filed the report anyway, but deep down, I knew it wouldn’t help.
An upset elderly woman sitting on her bed | Source: Pexels
The third time I found eggs, I cried. I didn’t even try to hide it. It wasn’t just the mess, it was the feeling that someone was targeting Owen, even in death.
“What do you want from him?” I shouted into the empty cemetery. My voice echoed back at me.
I couldn’t sleep the night before the anniversary of his death. Memories of Owen kept swirling in my mind. I could hear his laugh and feel the way he used to hold my hand when we walked.
A grieving elderly woman | Source: Pexels
By 5 a.m., I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my coat and decided to go to the cemetery. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the world felt still.
As I walked toward his grave, I stopped in my tracks.
Eggshells. Fresh ones, scattered around. And a figure.
A gravestone covered in eggshells | Source: Midjourney
They were standing by the stone, holding something in their hand. An egg. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The egg shattered against the stone, the sound sharp in the quiet morning air.
“Hey!” I yelled, my voice shaking. “What are you doing?”
The figure stiffened but didn’t turn. My heart pounded as I ran toward them.
A woman standing in front of a grave | Source: Pexels
They turned slowly, and my breath hitched.
“Madison?” My sister’s face stared back at me, pale and wide-eyed. She still had an egg in her hand, her fingers trembling.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice low and sharp.
“You!” I snapped. “You’ve been the one doing this!”
An angry woman | Source: Freepik
Her face twisted. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I said, stepping closer.
She laughed bitterly. “You think he was perfect, don’t you? The loyal husband, the loving dad. That man lied to you for years.”
“What are you talking about?” My voice cracked.
A bitter woman on a graveyard | Source: Midjourney
Madison’s eyes burned into mine. “We had an affair. Five years, Emma. Five years. He promised me everything — money, a future. But when he died, I got nothing. Not a damn cent. All of it went to you and your precious kids.”
I felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me.
“No,” I whispered. “You’re lying.”
A shocked woman on a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
“Am I?” she shot back. “Didn’t he leave everything to you? You’ve seen the will.”
I stared at her, my hands shaking. “How could you do this? To me? To him?”
Her voice turned cold. “You don’t get to judge me. He lied to both of us. He made promises he didn’t keep.”
I couldn’t speak. The words wouldn’t come.
A sad numb woman at a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
Madison dropped the egg, letting it fall to the ground. “You’ve always had everything, Emma. The perfect life, the perfect husband. Well, he wasn’t perfect.”
I watched her turn and walk away, her words echoing in my ears.
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
I sat on the damp ground by Owen’s grave, my mind spinning. Madison’s words were like daggers. “We had an affair. Five years.” How could she say something so vile? How could she claim that the man I had loved, trusted, and built a life with had betrayed me like that?
But the doubts started to creep in.
A thoughtful elderly woman | Source: Pexels
I thought about the times Owen had gone on last-minute business trips, always with a vague explanation. “It’s work, Em,” he’d say, giving me that easy smile. I’d never questioned him. Why would I? He was my husband.
Then there were the phone calls. He’d step outside sometimes, claiming it was “just a client,” but his voice was low, hurried.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Pexels
And Madison. She had always been close to Owen. Too close? I remembered the way she laughed at his jokes, even the ones I found annoying. The way she’d pat his arm when she thought no one was watching.
I shook my head, refusing to believe it.
An elderly woman hugging a photo | Source: Pexels
My chest ached as I stared at Owen’s name on the gravestone. “Did you lie to me?” I whispered. “Did I ever really know you?”
I barely noticed Madison storming off. She didn’t look back, and I didn’t call after her. I stayed by the grave for a long time, scrubbing away the yolk and shells with trembling hands. I cleaned it until there was nothing left but the smooth stone.
A woman scrubbing a headstone | Source: Midjourney
The next afternoon, I ran into Madison’s daughter, Carly, at the grocery store. She was holding a basket of vegetables and looked surprised to see me.
“Aunt Emma,” she said with a smile. “How are you?”
I hesitated. “I’ve been better.”
A niece talking to her aunt | Source: Pexels
Her smile faded. “It’s about the grave, isn’t it? Mom told me what happened.”
I swallowed hard. “Carly, did you know… about your mom and Owen?”
She frowned, looking puzzled. “Know what?”
“She said they… had an affair,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
A sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels
Carly’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No. She never said anything like that to me.”
“She claims it lasted five years. That he promised her money, but—” My voice broke, and I stopped.
Carly’s expression shifted to something between confusion and disbelief. “Wait. Mom told you that? She’s never mentioned anything about an affair. Ever. Honestly, Aunt Emma, that doesn’t sound like Uncle Owen at all.”
A thoughtful young woman | Source: Pexels
I stared at her. “Are you sure? She seemed so… certain. She said he lied to both of us.”
Carly sighed. “Mom’s been angry for years, Aunt Emma. You know that. She always said you had everything — a perfect family, a good husband, stability. She feels like she got stuck with the short end of the stick.”
“She’s jealous?” I asked, feeling a pang of guilt.
An elderly woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels
Carly nodded. “It’s not fair, but yeah. That’s how she sees it. But I never saw anything between her and Uncle Owen. Not once. And if something had been going on, I feel like I would’ve noticed.”
I bit my lip. “You’re sure?”
Carly nodded firmly. “Absolutely. Mom might be saying this just to hurt you. I hate to say it, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”
A confident young woman talking to her aunt | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, unsure whether to feel relieved or more confused.
Carly placed a hand on my arm. “You loved Uncle Owen, didn’t you?”
I nodded, my throat tightening.
“Then hold onto that,” she said gently. “Don’t let Mom take that away from you.”
A woman hugging her aunt | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, I sat in my living room, staring at an old photo of Owen and me. He was smiling, his arm draped around my shoulders. We looked so happy.
Maybe Madison was lying. Maybe she wasn’t. I would never know for sure. But I couldn’t let her bitterness destroy my memories of Owen.
A woman looking at a photo of her husband | Source: Pexels
I thought about our kids, how much they adored their father. They deserved to remember him as the man who loved them, not as the person Madison was trying to paint him to be.
I wiped away a tear and took a deep breath.
“Goodbye, Madison,” I whispered to myself. “You’re not taking him from me.”
A hopeful woman in her living room | Source: Pexels
The next Sunday, I went back to the cemetery. I brought fresh flowers and placed them by Owen’s grave. The air was still and quiet, and for the first time in months, I felt at peace.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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