My Grandpa, the man who spun tales of buried treasure and promised me the millions. But when his time came, lawyer called me.
“Your grandfather wanted to divide evenly his money between your siblings. But he wanted you to know – he loved you the most, Robyn. That’s why you’ll get his apiary”. – he said.
That was the biggest letdown: a dusty, old apiary. Who leaves their grandchild an insect-infested shack? This cruel joke of an inheritance was a slap in the face until the day I peered into the beehives.
It all started with a regular morning. Aunt Daphne peered over her glasses at the mess on my bed. “Robyn, have you packed your bag yet?”
“I’m texting Chloe,” I groaned, hiding my phone.
“It’s almost bus time! Get ready!” Aunt Daphne said, stuffing books into my bag.
I saw the time. 7:58 A.M. “Ugh, fine,” I sighed, getting up from the bed.
She held out a shirt for me, ironed and ready. “This isn’t what your Grandpa hoped for you, you know. He believed you’d be strong, independent. And those beehives he left? They’re not going to tend to themselves.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
I recalled the times with Grandpa, the honey, the bees. But now, my mind was on the upcoming school dance and my crush, Scott.
“I’ll check them, maybe tomorrow,” I said, fixing my hair.
“Tomorrow never comes for you. Grandpa believed in you, Robyn. He wanted you to take care of the apiary,” she insisted.
“Look, Aunt Daphne,” I said sharply. “I’ve got better things to do than take care of Grandpa’s bees!”
I saw Aunt Daphne’s face fall and tears spring in her eyes. But the school bus honked right then, and I rushed out, ignoring her sad expression.
On the bus, my thoughts were focused on Scott, not the apiary I inherited from Grandpa Archie. “Who wants an apiary?” I thought, annoyed at the responsibility.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But the next day, Aunt Daphne brought it up again. She scolded me for neglecting chores and spending too much time on my phone.
“You’re grounded, young lady!” she declared suddenly, and it was then I finally looked up from my phone.
“Grounded? For what?” I protested.
“For shirking responsibility,” she replied, mentioning the neglected apiary.
“The apiary? That useless bee farm?” I scoffed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“It’s about responsibility, Robyn. It’s what Grandpa wanted for you,” Aunt Daphne said, her voice strained with emotion.
“Look, Aunt Daphne,” I protested, “I’m scared of getting stung!”
“You’ll be wearing protective gear,” she countered. “A little fear is normal, but you can’t let it stop you.”
Reluctantly, I headed to the apiary. As I approached the hive, I was both scared and curious. Donning heavy gloves, I opened the hive and began harvesting honey, my heart pounding.
Suddenly, a bee stung my glove. I nearly gave up, but a surge of determination hit me. I had to finish this. I had to prove to Aunt Daphne that I wasn’t the reckless, irresponsible 14-year-old she thought I was.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weather-beaten plastic bag inside the hive containing a faded map with strange markings. It seemed like a treasure map left by Grandpa Archie.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Excited, I tucked the map into my pocket and pedaled home. Leaving the half-filled jar of honey on the kitchen counter, I sneaked out and followed the map into the woods.
Navigating the familiar woods, I remembered Grandpa’s stories and laughed about his encounters.
As I stepped into a clearing that seemed to leap straight out of Grandpa’s stories, I couldn’t help but shiver. This was the exact place he’d talk about the legendary White Walker of the forest, making my imagination run wild as a kid.
And there it was, just like in his tales – the old gamekeeper’s house, looking forgotten by time with its chipped paint and sagging porch. “Grandpa used to sit us down here, munching on sandwiches and pie after collecting honey, and weave his incredible stories,” I thought, a bittersweet nostalgia washing over me.
Touching the ancient dwarf tree near the porch, I could almost hear Grandpa’s playful warning, “Watch out, kiddo. Let’s not disturb the grouchy little gnomes,” as if we were back in those carefree afternoons.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
I found the hidden old key and unlocked the cabin, stepping into a world that time had forgotten. The air was heavy with a musty smell, and specks of dust glimmered in the stray beams of sunlight.
There, catching my eye, was a beautifully carved metal box on a dusty table. Inside was a note from Grandpa, just for me:
“To my dear Robyn, inside this box is a special treasure for you, but it’s not to be opened until your journey’s true end. You’ll know when the time is right. All my love, Grandpa.”
I was dying to see what was inside, but Grandpa’s last instruction echoed in my head, “Only at the end of your journey.”
I couldn’t just ignore his last wish.
I continued my journey through the forest, but after a while, I felt like I was lost.
“This map is no good,” I realized, not being able to spot a way out of the woods. I didn’t know when I started crying.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But then, I remembered something important. “Grandpa always said to stay calm,” I told myself. “I can’t give up.”
Then, I heard a sound like a small branch breaking far off, and it made me think of scary stories from when I was little. “Maybe Aunt Daphne was right to warn me,” I thought, looking around at the huge forest. But thinking of Grandpa’s advice made me brave enough to keep going, guiding me through the enveloping wilderness.
I took a big, nervous breath and tried to think clearly. Going back seemed like a good idea, but it would be hard to see clearly in the forest when it got dark. There was a bridge, the one Grandpa always talked about… that might help, I thought.
Wiping away a tear, I straightened my backpack. “Okay, Robyn,” I whispered to myself. “Let’s find that bridge.”
But that confidence didn’t last long. The sun was setting, making the woods menacing. Exhausted, I slumped under a tree, longing for Aunt Daphne’s cozy kitchen.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
My backpack offered no comfort, just reminders of my unpreparedness. Desperately searching for food, I found nothing but stale cracker crumbs. “Focus, Robyn. Find the bridge. Find water,” I urged myself, ignoring the hunger.
Then, remembering Grandpa’s advice again, I used heal-all leaves for my wounds and pushed on, driven by the sound of rushing water. But the river wasn’t the gentle stream I remembered; it was a dangerous, fast-moving torrent.
Ignoring the treacherous path, I scrambled down the rocky bank, driven by a desperate thirst. Reaching the water’s edge, I knelt, cupping my hands to scoop up the cool liquid. It tasted faintly metallic, but it was life-giving nectar at that moment.
As I rose, the precarious footing betrayed me. Slipping, I tumbled into the icy current, screaming for help. My backpack dragged me down. “Grandpa,” I whispered helplessly. Thinking of him, a sliver of clarity cut through the panic. He wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. He’d taught me to fight, to be brave.
I decided to ditch the backpack but kept Grandpa’s metal box. Fighting the current, I struggled towards the shore, refusing to give up.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
My fingers brushed a solid log, a lifeline in the churning chaos. I clung to it with every ounce of strength, the current tossing me like a ragdoll. Then, with a final shove, it deposited me, sputtering and bruised, onto the muddy bank.
I peeled off my soaking clothes and hung them up on a tree to dry. My eyes then fell on a metal box that might help me find my way back.
Grandpa had told me to wait until the end of my journey to open it, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Inside, I found no treasure, just a jar of honey and a photo of us together. It hit me then—this journey and the real treasure was about the value of hard work, just like Grandpa always said.
Tears welled up as I thought about how I’d ignored all the wisdom Grandpa had shared with me. I’d been chasing adventures, forgetting the important things he’d tried to teach me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Wiping my snotty nose, I told myself it was time to get moving, to make Grandpa proud. I started building a shelter from branches and leaves under a big oak tree. It was rough, but it was enough for the night.
The next morning, the bright sun woke me up. I pushed through the woods, holding onto that metal box like a lifeline, thinking about Grandpa.
Remembering the times we went fishing together warmed me up a bit. “Slow and steady,” I could almost hear him say. I even started humming one of his favorite tunes, feeling like he was right there with me.
When I saw a bridge in the distance, hope bubbled up inside me. With Grandpa’s lessons in my heart, I wasn’t alone. But then, the forest turned into a confusing maze, and I started to panic. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I stumbled into a clearing and collapsed, totally exhausted.
That’s when a dog found me, and I heard a chorus of muffled voices: “There she is!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Waking up in a hospital bed, I saw Aunt Daphne by my side. “I’m sorry,” I managed, overwhelmed by regret. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Daphne.”
“Hush, dear. You’re safe now,” she said softly.
“I messed up,” I cried out. “Grandpa was right about everything!”
Aunt Daphne held my hand and smiled. “He always loved you, sweetie. Even when you were mad at him, even when you didn’t get why. Remember how upset you were about not getting that smartwatch just weeks before he passed?”
“I never appreciated him or anything he did for me. He was always there for me. Grandpa was both my Mom and Dad after their passing. But I—”
“He knew you’d come around, sweetie. He always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
At that point, she reached into a bag beside her chair, pulling out a brightly colored box. My breath hitched as I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper: the same kind Grandpa always used for gifts.
“This is for you,” Aunt Daphne said gently, placing the box on my lap. The Xbox I wanted.
“Grandpa wanted you to have this,” Aunt Daphne continued. “He said when you learned the value of hard work and understood the importance of patience and perseverance, it would be yours.”
“I’ll be good, Aunt Daphne,” I promised. “I don’t need this anymore. I have learned my lesson.”
Aunt Daphne’s smile, this time brighter and filled with genuine joy, was all the reassurance I needed. Reaching to the bedside, I pulled out the small honey jar.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Would you like some honey, Aunt Daphne?” I asked, offering the sticky jar.
Taking the jar, she dipped a finger in and tasted the honey. “It’s sweet,” she said, her voice soft. “Just like you, Robyn. Just like you!”
Years have flown by since then. Now, at 28, a million miles from that grumbling teenager to a bee boss with two little terrors of my own (who thankfully love honey!), I learned a thing or two about responsibility.
Thanks, Grandpa! Thank you for everything you taught me! I whisper every single time I see the happiness on my kids’ faces when they enjoy honey.
That delicious honey is a reminder of the beautiful bond Grandpa and I shared.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
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My Younger Sister Stole My Fiancé – But I Got the Ultimate Revenge at Her Wedding
When Paige’s sister steals her fiancé, betrayal isn’t enough, she wants to flaunt her little victory. One year later, an invitation arrives. Erica is getting married to the man she took, and she wants Paige to watch. But what Erica doesn’t know is that Paige has a plan. And before the night is over, the bride’s perfect day will be in ruins.
I wasn’t supposed to be at this wedding.
That much was clear from the sideways glances and the murmured whispers trailing behind me as I walked through the grand hall.
A smiling woman at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
I’ll admit, the wedding set up was stunning. Erica had taken her time to set the scene with shades of gold and ivory. The guests had come wearing their expensive gowns and tuxedos. Everything was… stunning.
But no amount of elegance could mask the rot beneath the surface.
This wasn’t just any wedding. This was her wedding.
Erica.
People at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
My younger sister. My parents’ golden child. The one who was handed everything on a silver platter while I scraped and clawed for every bit of success I had.
And now?
She had taken the one thing that was supposed to be mine.
Stan.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Stan had been my fiancé. He had been my future. He was the man I loved and trusted, until I came home early from work one night and found them tangled together in our bed.
I still remember how he froze, his face twisted in guilt. As for my sister? She had only smirked, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
“I won, Paige,” she had said simply. “Checkmate.”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
A month later, the wedding I had spent over a year planning was canceled, with all the vendors trying to keep my deposits. And what about Erica and Stan? They no longer had to sneak around. They were finally an official couple.
After that, I left town for a few weeks, moving around hotels while working remotely. I tried to put it all behind me, and eventually, I did. When I was ready, I moved back in and got myself a kitten.
A ginger kitten | Source: Midjourney
Then, the invitation arrived.
And now, a year after that entire fiasco, here I was, standing in the middle of their celebration, invited as nothing more than a spectator to their so-called victory.
I bet it was my parents who forced her to invite me. If Erica had her own way, she would never have invited me. Or maybe she would have… just to gloat. She was as nasty as they came.
A wedding invitation | Source: Midjourney
But what Erica didn’t know, what nobody knew, was that tonight, I wasn’t here to mourn my loss.
I was here to make sure that Erica would never forget what she had done to me. And with that, she would never forget the surprise I had planned for her wedding reception.
The ceremony was a blur. I stood near the back, barely listening as the officiant droned on about love and devotion. Honestly, they were just words that meant nothing.
A woman standing in a wedding venue | Source: Midjourney
Stan, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, stared at Erica with a look of adoration I knew was fake. She, in turn, beamed up at him like she had won the grandest prize of all.
I almost laughed.
Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart, I thought while sipping my champagne.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
By the time the reception began, the hall buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. A massive screen behind the dance floor played a slideshow of their engagement photos, Stan lifting Erica into the air, their foreheads touching as they smiled at each other.
Honestly, if you didn’t know the history of how they got together, you would think they were genuinely happy.
And maybe they were. Maybe this was how things were supposed to turn out.
Glasses of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t going to give in that easily. I wasn’t going to just let this go.
Why should Erica get the happily-ever-after, especially after all the pain and betrayal I had felt?
Nope. Not a chance.
Soon, their perfect little fairytale was about to take a turn.
I moved through the crowd unnoticed, my sleek black dress hugging my frame just right. I wasn’t dressed like a guest. I was dressed like a reckoning, and I felt confident, more confident than I had in a long time.
A woman walking through a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney
Reaching the laptop connected to the projector, I slipped in my flash drive. A few clicks, a deep breath, and then…
Showtime.
The first few seconds went unnoticed. The guests continued sipping champagne and nibbling on canapés, lost in conversation. The bridal couple made their way through the crowd, stopping to talk and hug people as they went.
Then, Stan’s voice filled the hall.
“Please, don’t leave me!”
A man sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
The video played on the massive screen, the footage grainy from the security camera mounted in my bedroom. Stan was on the bed, his face streaked with tears. I was standing on the other end listening to him try to ‘explain’ what had gone on between him and my sister.
“Erica means nothing to me, Paige! Absolutely nothing!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you, Paige! I made a huge mistake!”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
I turned to look at Erica.
Her face drained of color.
A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney
Stan, too, stood frozen, his eyes wide. His hands twitched at his sides.
But still, I wasn’t done.
The video cut to more security footage. I lived in a quiet neighborhood that was often targeted for break-ins, which was why I had security cameras installed everywhere and in every room.
Now, the footage showed Erica and Stan sneaking into my house together, slipping into my bedroom when they thought I was working late. Timestamp after timestamp, betrayal after betrayal.
A security camera on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Then, the final nail in the coffin.
Erica, lying in my bed, laughing.
“She’ll never know…” she whispered, her voice light and breathy.
“Paige who?” Stan said, laughing with her.
A collective gasp spread through the crowd. Someone dropped a champagne glass.
A broken champagne glass | Source: Midjourney
“Oh my God,” a woman murmured.
My mother looked like she might faint. My father’s jaw clenched so tightly I swore I heard his teeth grind.
And then, pure chaos.
Erica stumbled back, her hands shaking.
“This… this isn’t real!” she stammered.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
But the proof was right there, glaring under the bright glow of the screen.
“Dinner will be served now!” she blurted, waving her hands in the air. “Everyone just take your seats and enjoy!”
Stan turned to her, his expression morphing into pure rage.
An angry bride | Source: Midjourney
“Erica, you told me that you went onto Paige’s computer and deleted the footage.”
“Oh?” I mused, my voice dripping with mock innocence. “You mean you knew about it? You knew that the security cameras were going to catch you in the act?”
His face paled, giving himself away.
The guests murmured louder now, judgment and disgust flickering through their faces.
A shocked groom | Source: Midjourney
And then, before Erica could retaliate, a voice cut through the tension.
“Paige.”
I turned.
Jack stepped forward from the crowd, his crisp white shirt visible beneath the black vest of his waiter’s uniform.
A smiling man holding a tray | Source: Midjourney
Month ago, when I told Jack about what I wanted to do, he was adamant that he needed to be with me. He had just come over after work and the first thing he saw was my sister’s wedding invitation on the table.
“I want to go to the wedding,” I said. “I just don’t want to be… I don’t know. Jack, Erica is a problem. She’s used to everything being about her. I want to teach her some kind of lesson.”
Jack moved around the kitchen, chopping whatever I asked him for.
“Then I’ll come with, Paige,” he said.
“But I don’t want to draw attention to you,” I said, handing him a bowl of ramen. “I don’t want Erica to spoil my moment before I even get to it. And if she sees you, that’s exactly what she’ll do.”
“Then I’ll come in as a waiter, if that’s what it takes!” he said. “But I want to be there. That way, if you need me, I’ll be right there.”
In the end, I gave in. I was switched off from my parents, and I hadn’t been close with my family for a long time, so knowing that Jack was around made me feel better.
A bowl of ramen | Source: Midjourney
Now, Jack set down his tray of champagne glasses on a table and smiled at me.
His sharp blue eyes met mine. They were steady and unwavering… and reassuring.
I had never been more grateful to see someone in my entire life. As much as I was surrounded by family, having Jack around was the one thing that had kept me grounded throughout the ceremony. I despised Erica and Stan but watching them actually get married did tug at my heart.
But now? Seeing Jack?
I was comforted.
“Shall we go?” I asked.
Jack shook his head and walked over to me.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Gasps rippled through the crowd as he strode toward me, each step measured and purposeful. And then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.
The room, already reeling from the scandal on screen, now fell into a stunned silence.
Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it, revealing the most breathtaking ring I had ever seen.
“I’ve waited long enough to ask you this, my love,” he said, his voice strong, clear, and certain. “Paige, will you marry me?”
A beautiful engagement ring | Source: Midjourney
A sharp inhale swept through the crowd.
Erica let out a strangled sound.
“Are you… are you kidding me right now?” she screeched. “Paige! Why? What the hell? Now? At my wedding?!”
She looked like a deer in headlights but she also looked a canon about to burst through the room, taking everything down with her. For a moment, I felt bad. But on a whole… I felt vindicated.
A shouting bride | Source: Midjourney
I smiled, the weight of the past year lifting from my shoulders.
She had stolen the wrong man. Stan was nothing compared to Jack. Jack was everything that Stan hadn’t been. He was trustworthy and certain about life and his love for me.
Stan? Stan had just wanted a good time.
But as I looked at him now, he looked heartbroken. He looked like everything wrong had happened to him and the weight of it all was suffocating. He looked at Erica who was still fuming. He even tried to reach out to hold onto her hand but she tugged it away with such a force that he looked shocked.
I would have checked on him. But he wasn’t my problem.
A side view of a groom | Source: Midjourney
Instead, I turned back to Jack, my chest tight with emotion.
“Yes!” I said, my voice unwavering. “Yes, Jack! I will!”
The room erupted. Some guests, still reeling from the scandal, now cheered. My mother wiped away tears, not of shame this time, but of joy.
An emotional woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
Erica’s face twisted in pure, unfiltered rage. There was something unfamiliar about her rage. I hadn’t seen her so upset in my entire life. Erica was used to getting everything she wanted but now on the most important day of her life, she had lost control. There was no joy in her actions. There was no victory over me anymore.
There was just… anger and hurt. And disappointment. I should have felt bad, right?
But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to it.
“This is my day!” she shrieked, stamping her foot and knocking her chair over.
An upset bride holding her head | Source: Midjourney
I turned to her, tilting my head.
“Oh, honey,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. “You stole that fool from me and my wedding. I just returned the favor and stole the show.”
Then, with Jack’s hand firmly in mine, I walked out of the hall, leaving my sister standing at her wedding reception, humiliated, betrayed, and hurt.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
The wedding was far behind us, but my heart was still racing. The echoes of gasps, whispers, and Erica’s shriek still clung to the edges of my mind.
Now, though, it was just Jack and me.
We sat across from each other in a tiny 24-hour diner, both of us absurdly overdressed for a place that served greasy fries and milkshakes in chipped glasses. My sleek black dress felt out of place against the cracked leather booth, and Jack looked like he had just stepped out of a movie scene.
The interior of a diner | Source: Midjourney
And yet, this was the most comfortable I’d felt all night.
Jack slid a plate of fries toward me.
“Eat,” he commanded. “You’ve had a long day.”
“That’s an understatement,” I laughed, but I picked up a fry anyway.
A plate of fries | Source: Midjourney
For a while, we just sat there, the hum of the diner filling the silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was easy. But that had been life since I met Jack.
Finally, I set my drink down and met his gaze.
“So… how long were you planning that?”
“The proposal?” he smirked.
He exhaled, leaning back against the booth.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve wanted to ask you for months, Paige. But I knew you weren’t ready. Not just for marriage, but the whole commitment thing? You needed time to heal. I wasn’t going to rush that.”
His fingers traced patterns on the table and then picked up his milkshake.
“But when I found out that she invited you? That was the final straw. I wasn’t going to let you stand there alone while she flaunted him in front of you.”
A lime milkshake on a diner table | Source: Midjourney
“And you got a job in the catering industry, or you snuck in?”
“I called in a favor, honey,” he grinned. “Apparently, I look good holding a tray.”
I laughed, really laughed, for the first time in a long time.
Jack leaned forward, his expression much softer now.
A woman sitting in a diner and laughing | Source: Midjourney
“I meant every word, Paige. I love you. And I’ll wait as long as you need. But this evening felt like the right moment to finally ask.”
“I think,” I said after a moment, “that you chose the perfect moment.”
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had won.
A smiling woman sitting outside | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Davina promised her sister Clara $10,000 for her wedding, she never expected betrayal to cancel the big day. But when Clara demands the money anyway, despite her role in the wedding debacle, it’s time for Davina to set her straight. A lesson in loyalty, consequences, and unexpected twists you don’t see coming…
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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