My husband booked a big family trip to the Canary Islands—me, our daughter Ava (from my previous marriage), his mom Darlene, and his sister. Ava was thrilled. First plane ride ever.
But on our way to the airport, Darlene goes, “Can we roll the windows down? It’s stuffy.”
Then, she adds, “Ava, let me check your ticket real quick.” Three seconds later—whoosh—the ticket’s flying out the window.
“Oh, what a shame,” she sighed. “I GUESS FATE DIDN’T WANT YOU TWO TO GO.”
I locked eyes with her in the mirror. That smug smile told me everything. It wasn’t an accident. She’d PLANNED it.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t fight. I just let her think she won, saying, “Maybe you’re right.” But let’s just say… fate had other plans for her because soon after, Darlene called me crying and begging for a favor.
It was two days after the rest of the family had flown to the Canary Islands without us. Ava was devastated at first, but we made the best of it — movie nights, baking, even a little staycation at a nice hotel downtown. Honestly, it was peaceful without Darlene’s constant snark.
Then my phone rang. It was Darlene. Crying.
“Sophia… please… I need your help.”
I almost didn’t answer, but curiosity got the better of me.
“What’s going on, Darlene?”
Between sobs, she explained. Apparently, during their fancy resort dinner, Darlene had slipped and twisted her ankle badly. But that wasn’t even the real issue. While she was being carried out, her purse had been stolen — inside was her wallet, passport, everything. No ID. No money. No way to fly back home.
“I called the embassy, but it’ll take days… and Clyde” — my husband — “can’t stay much longer because of work.”
“Wow,” I said, keeping my voice even. “That’s awful.”
“You don’t understand!” she whimpered. “I need someone to fly out here with my birth certificate and paperwork so I can get a temporary passport.”
I paused, letting her stew in the silence. She sounded so small, so unlike the woman who’d once smirked while throwing Ava’s ticket out the window.
“Why me?” I finally asked. “You have a daughter.”
“Greta’s leaving early, too! Sophia, please. You’re my only hope.”
Only hope, huh? Interesting choice of words.
After a long pause, I said, “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”
That night, as I sat on the couch sipping my tea, Ava curled up beside me.
“Are we going to the Canary Islands after all?” she asked, wide-eyed.
I smiled. “Looks like we are, sweetheart.”
We both knew it wasn’t for a vacation, but I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. I booked two tickets for the next morning.
When we arrived, Darlene looked rough. Her ankle was in a bulky boot, her face puffy from crying. But the second she saw Ava with me, her smile tightened. She didn’t expect me to bring Ava along.
“You… brought her?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
“Of course,” I said sweetly. “I couldn’t leave my daughter alone, could I? She’s part of the family, after all.”
Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Ava just smiled innocently, giving her the most polite wave. My daughter is no fool — she knew exactly what was happening.
Over the next couple of days, while I helped Darlene with embassy paperwork, Ava and I actually got to enjoy the trip. Beach days, dolphin tours, fresh seafood — all the things she was supposed to experience from the start.
Darlene, meanwhile, was mostly stuck inside or hobbling slowly behind us. Karma had taken care of her without me lifting a finger.
When it was finally time to fly home, Darlene hobbled onto the plane, avoiding my gaze the entire time. Halfway through the flight, she finally spoke.
“I… I shouldn’t have done what I did,” she whispered, barely audible over the hum of the engines. “I just thought… I don’t know. I thought Clyde would grow distant from you if Ava didn’t come. I was wrong.”
I didn’t reply right away. My stomach knotted for a moment — part of me wanted to snap back, to rub it in. But then I looked at Ava, peacefully sleeping against my shoulder, and realized something.
“You were wrong,” I said softly. “But not just about that. Family doesn’t work like that, Darlene. The more you try to push people apart, the closer they often become.”
She stared at me, shame written all over her face.
“I hope you learned something from all this,” I added. “Because I’m done fighting. I won’t let your insecurities hurt my daughter again.”
Darlene wiped her eyes, nodding silently. For once, she had no clever comeback.
Since that trip, things slowly shifted. Darlene never became warm and fuzzy overnight, but she kept her distance. There were no more petty games or backhanded comments. And Clyde? He saw everything for what it was. Our marriage got stronger.
Funny how life works sometimes — you don’t always need revenge. Sometimes, you just need patience. Karma handles the rest.
If this story hit home for you, don’t forget to hit that like button and share it with someone who needs a reminder: sometimes, the best revenge is living your life well. ❤️👇