After losing my husband, I never thought I’d open my heart again until I met Brian. From the start, he wasn’t just kind to me; he showed genuine care for my two grieving children, Simon and Nancy. For two years, he was the perfect partner: surprising us with birthday celebrations, making pancake breakfasts, reading bedtime stories.
The kids began calling him “our Brian,” and when he proposed, we all believed he was going to be a permanent part of our family. But the dream didn’t last. After eight months, Brian changed he grew cold and distant. Then one evening, I caught him at a restaurant holding hands with another woman. There was no apology, no explanation only a dismissive shrug.
To make matters worse, he demanded I return every gift he had ever given us, including my daughter’s treasured stuffed elephant. So I gathered all the gifts perfume, chocolates, and more and packed them into one box. I left it in the garage overnight, and by morning, ants, spiders, and a few beetles had made themselves at home.
I dropped the box on his porch and watched from across the street as karma and his fear of insects delivered exactly what he deserved. The best part? Later, I reclaimed the box, cleaned the gifts carefully, and returned what truly mattered to my kids. As for Brian, all he got was a porch full of bugs and a lesson he will never forget.
