Rude Man Gets Schooled by Life — Story of the Day

Bradley, a rude, wealthy man who believed the world revolved around him, openly mocked economy-class passengers at the airport. When Eden, a coach-class passenger flying to Mexico to honor her husband's last wish, confronted Bradley, he sought revenge. However, he was taught a painful life lesson.

The shrill cries of a toddler echoed through the bustling airport terminal, bouncing off the polished granite floors. Bradley, a man sculpted by years of killer gym workouts, navigated the throng with practiced ease.

Mia, his secretary and girlfriend, trailed close behind, her designer sunglasses barely concealing a growing sense of unease.

Their destination – the business class check-in counter – was a welcome oasis amidst the churning sea of people. Bradley reached the front of the line, a smug grin plastered across his face.

He glanced towards the snaking queue at the economy counters. Weary travelers shuffled forward, their faces etched with fatigue and anticipation.

"Looks like cattle class is having a ball today, wouldn't you say, babe?" Bradley mocked...

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With a flourish, he reached into his inner jacket pocket and retrieved two sleek passports. He tossed them onto the counter with a theatrical flick of the wrist, the boarding passes nestled within like prized possessions.

The young woman behind the counter, her nametag reading "Jessica," possessed a tired smile that seemed permanently etched on her face. It was a smile honed through countless encounters with self-important passengers just like Bradley.

Jessica scanned the passports and boarding passes with practiced efficiency. "Mr. Thompson and Ms. Mia, flying to Mexico today, is that correct?" she called out.

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"Bingo!" Bradley confirmed, already turning his attention back to Mia. He began regaling her with a story about a recent business deal.

Jessica, however, wasn't finished. She placed the boarding passes on the counter and looked up at Bradley. "I'm sorry sir. But your seats are in economy."

Sweat began to bead on his forehead. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a look of utter disbelief. Bradley snatched the boarding pass, his fingers turning white as he scanned the bold blue lettering.

"What the—? There must be some mistake! I specifically asked my girlfriend here to book business class," he slammed his passport down on the counter.

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Jessica simply shook her head. "I apologize for any inconvenience, Mr. Thompson, but your reservation is indeed for economy class. I've double-checked the system."

A vein pulsed angrily in Bradley's temple. Just then, a loud, grating voice sliced through the tense silence. A woman, several spots down in the economy line, yanked down her oversized sunglasses, revealing eyes that glittered with malicious amusement.

This was Eden, a middle-class woman who, despite her outward bravado, secretly harbored a deep resentment for those who flaunted their wealth and looked down upon the less privileged.

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Bradley's jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth threatened to shatter. He spun on his heel, his frustration radiating like heat waves. Mia, who had been discreetly adjusting the hem of her dress, flinched under his icy glare.

"Mia!" he barked. "Did you book economy class?"

Mia wilted under his scrutiny. "I, uh," she stammered. "There might have been a slight mix-up. You see, thirteen is my lucky number… So I didn't bother to see which class it was when I booked the tickets, babe."

"Lucky number?" Bradley exploded. "This isn't some lottery ticket, Mia! This is a special trip to Mexico! Doesn't it even faze you that I've never flown economy before? What kind of message do you think that sends?"

His voice echoed through the terminal, drawing curious stares from fellow passengers. Mia shrunk back, stung by his accusatory tone. Shame burned hot in her cheeks.

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Bradley scanned the boarding pass again, the words "economy class" burning into his retinas. There was no changing it now. He was stuck in the dreaded economy section. But there was one last hurdle to overcome — securing a seat next to Mia.

His gaze darted across the crowded economy queue. "Hey!" he barked, his voice laced with desperation. "Anyone interested in switching seats? I need 13A."

A beat of silence followed, then Eden's smile widened into a full-blown grin. "Funny you should ask," she drawled. "Thirteen is my lucky number too, honey. But I ain't switching seats. Looks like you're stuck with the middle seat!"

Bradley's face turned the color of a ripe tomato.

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A wad of blue bubblegum bulged in his cheek, his jaw working overtime as he chewed furiously. He glared at Eden, his eyes narrowed to angry slits. "You've got to be kidding me, right?" he growled. "Switching seats is a basic courtesy. Don't you know who I am?"

Eden snorted, her amusement turning into a hint of disdain. "Honey," she cooed, emphasizing the word with a thick Southern accent, "my biggest concern right now is not memorizing the names of every arrogant businessman who flies coach."

Bradley's face contorted further. He leaned towards Eden, his voice dropping to a menacing hiss. "Look, Grandma," he spat, "you wouldn't know a good deal if it bit you in the—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening in a flash of recognition. A display case filled with an assortment of items sat nearby in a souvenir shop— antique showpieces, snowglobes, and a collection of colorful keychains. But Bradley wasn't looking at those.

His gaze was fixated on a single item: a small, black toy handgun nestled innocuously amongst the other merchandise.

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Mia, who had been watching the exchange with growing unease, felt a jolt of fear shoot through her. When she followed Bradley's line of sight, her breath hitched in her throat. A strangled gasp escaped her lips as she grabbed his arm and took him aside.

"Bradley, no!" she hissed. "Don't even think about it!"

Mia stared at him, her mind reeling. The Bradley she knew — the arrogant, self-absorbed man she'd been dating for the past few months — had always been full of hot air, but this was different. This was a whole new level of crazy.

"You can't be serious!" she exclaimed. "That's a gun! You could get into so much trouble!"

"Relax, sweetheart," Bradley scoffed, his confidence bordering on recklessness. "It's just a little leverage. I'll just show 'Grandma' here who she's messing with."

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With a triumphant smile plastered across her face, Eden inched her carry-on bag towards the security screening belt moments later. The thought of boarding the plane and leaving Bradley fuming in the economy line was almost too good to be true.

As the bag rolled through the X-ray scanner, she reached the security officer, a no-nonsense man with a gaze that could identify a paperclip from a plane ticket a mile away.

"Do you have any prohibited items in your carry-on?" the officer inquired, his voice gruff yet professional.

Eden puffed out her chest, pride radiating from her. "Nope, nothing illegal here, sir. Just the essentials for a smooth flight!" Her confidence faltered slightly as the officer's gaze lingered on her for a beat too long.

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A shrill, insistent beeping shattered the monotony of the security checkpoint. The officer's eyes narrowed as he peered at the X-ray screen. A tense silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the conveyor belt.

"Ma'am," the officer firmly said, "I'm afraid I'm going to need to inspect your bag further." He reached for Eden's luggage with a practiced swiftness.

Eden's smile vanished, replaced by a look of dawning horror. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she had no clue what was happening. "Wait! There must be some mistake," she stammered, her voice cracking. "I have a flight in ten minutes! I can't miss it!"

The officer's expression remained impassive. "Please step aside, ma'am. This could take a while." He disappeared behind a curtain with Eden's bag clutched in his hand, leaving her stranded in a sea of confused and impatient passengers.

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be on a plane, not stranded at security.

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A smug chuckle broke through the fog of her panic. Bradley, standing a few feet away, his face twisted into a grotesque parody of a grin. "Looks like karma bit you in the butt, Grandma!" he crowed, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Mia lashed out, her hand connecting with a resounding slap on Bradley's shoulder. "You jerk!" she hissed. "Why did you do this?"

Unfazed, Bradley rubbed his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, at least you get to sit next to your man on the flight now," he said, his gaze flickering between Mia and Eden. "Aren't you happy? Ah, c'mon!"

Eden whirled around, her fury momentarily eclipsing her fear. "Alright! So you did it, didn't you? Thanks to you, I'm going to miss my flight!" she yelled. "Do you have any idea what this could cost me?"

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Bradley shrugged, the air of arrogance back in full force. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before messing with someone who knows how to play the game, GRANDMA!"

"Oh, really? You sabotaged my trip, you scoundrel," Eden hissed.

Bradley ran his gaze over her outfit, a sneer twisting his lips. "Whoa! Seriously, Grandma? Who dresses like a crow to a tropical paradise?"

Mia squeezed Bradley's arm. "That's enough," she hissed. "Let's just go. We have a flight to catch."

But Bradley, reveling in his perceived dominance, ignored her. "Maybe this little lost soul should take a life lesson from this," he taunted.

Eden, her face already streaked with tears, seemed to shrink under Bradley's relentless assault. A strangled sob escaped her lips. Then, to everyone's surprise, she reached into her backpack.

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Bradley's mocking laughter died in his throat. He watched as Eden pulled out a small, ornate urn. Tears streamed down her cheeks, carving glistening tracks through her oily face.

A hush fell over the crowd, the curious onlookers exchanging stunned glances.

"Oh, come on," Bradley scoffed, regaining his composure a little too quickly. "Surely you can catch the next flight. Or the next day for that matter. Trust me, your husband isn't going anywhere. Coz he's already gone!" He gestured heartlessly towards the urn.

The last shred of Mia's patience snapped. She landed a stinging slap on Bradley's shoulder. "How can you be so heartless?" she cried. "Can't you see she's grieving?"

Bradley rubbed his shoulder. "Hey, I was just kidding," he mumbled, his voice laced with a defensiveness that did little to disguise his cruelty.

But Eden wasn't finished. She lunged towards Bradley, her hands raised, nails bared. "You jerk!" she screamed. "How dare you?"

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Before she could connect, security personnel materialized, converging on her like a swarm of bees. Strong arms encircled her, restraining her struggles. Her screams were muffled as they hustled her away from Bradley, her cries echoing through the sterile terminal.

A self-satisfied smirk played on his lips. "Justice served," he declared to the security officer, a hint of self-importance creeping back into his voice. "Make sure she misses every flight for the next year, officer!"

The officer, however, didn't return his smirk. His gaze was a cold, steely blue that sent a shiver down Bradley's spine. "Sir," he said, his voice clipped, "Unfortunately, you'll be coming with us too. We need to ask you a few questions."

Bradley's face blanched. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything!" he gasped.

The officer's expression remained impassive. "We'll get to the bottom of that," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now, if you'll please cooperate…"

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A storm of frantic pleas erupted from Bradley's lips. "Hey! I have a flight to catch! You can't just hold me here!" His voice bounced off the polished granite floors of the terminal.

The officer's gaze narrowed. "Sir, we need your cooperation. This won't take long, but any further resistance will only complicate things for you."

Bradley shot a panicked glance around, his eyes landing on Mia. She stood a few feet away, clutching her carry-on luggage.

"Mia," he called out, his voice cracking slightly. "Come on, you gotta help me out here! Tell them this is all a misunderstanding."

Mia, however, didn't budge. Her gaze held a steely glint that sent a shiver down Bradley's spine. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "I'm not your wife, and I'm certainly not your alibi. Help yourself, loser!"

"But… but we were going to Mexico together!" Bradley stammered. "Remember? Our business trip?"

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The corner of Mia's lip curled into a humorless smile. "Business trip, huh? Interesting choice of words for a little vacation with your… 'secret' girlfriend, shall we say? I'm sorry, hun! But I don't want to get into any trouble."

"Mia? Come... come back..." Bradley gaped.

"Enjoy your interrogation, Bradley," Mia blew a sarcastic kiss in his direction.

With that, she spun on her heel and marched towards the security checkpoint, her silhouette disappearing into the throng of departing passengers.

Bradley watched her go, a knot of despair tightening in his gut. He was alone, abandoned by the woman he'd worshipped with expensive gifts and money.

"How could you just leave me here?" he roared.

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The security officers, having finished escorting Eden away, gestured towards a doorway at the end of the corridor. "Alright, sir," one of them said, "let's head inside."

***

Bradley found himself in a small, windowless detention room. Eden sat across from him, a deep scowl etched on her face. Her wrists, like his, were bound with handcuffs.

The silence stretched uncomfortably, broken only by the annoyingly rhythmic whistling coming from Bradley's lips. Eden glared at him, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You ruined my flight," she spat. "And not just that, you framed me for something I didn't do!"

Bradley, seemingly unfazed by her outburst, simply shrugged. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before messing with a guy like me," he said, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

"Think twice?" Eden exploded. "If my husband were here, he'd smack that smirk right off your face!"

Bradley snorted, a callous laugh escaping his lips. He gestured towards the urn on the table between them.

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Disbelief curdled into a bitter fury in Eden's eyes. "Don't go there," she choked out, her voice trembling with outrage and raw grief. "How can you be so cruel? Don't you have an ounce of decency in you?"

Bradley rolled his eyes, a look of exaggerated boredom spreading across his face. "Oh, come on," he scoffed. "Don't get all weepy on me. This is what women do best, isn't it? Cry and play the drama queen!"

"Stop it!" Eden cried, her voice cracking with the effort to hold back another wave of tears. "Just stop it!"

But Bradley, emboldened by her vulnerability, continued his tirade. "Seriously," he drawled, "are all women the same? Weak, sentimental fools who can't handle a little reality?"

Eden squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to react. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to lash out, to scream back at him, but she knew it was pointless. Engaging with Bradley would only give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

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"Look," Bradley continued to mock Eden, "you brought this on yourself, drama queen. Dragging an urn around on a plane? Who does that? Shouldn't you have, what, buried him six feet under or something? That's where dead guys go, you know, not on a joyride to Mexico!"

A primal scream ripped from Eden's throat. This time, it wasn't borne out of grief, but out of a white-hot rage. "Not another word!" she shrieked. "Before my husband Scott died, he had one last wish. He wanted his ashes scattered in his favorite spot."

The words tumbled out, a desperate attempt to make Bradley understand, to somehow end his insults. She fumbled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she unlocked it. Swiping through the gallery, she searched for the picture that captured the essence of her husband, of their love.

There it was. A picture of Cenote Ik Kil, a breathtaking image of a turquoise underground lake surrounded by lush greenery. It was Scott's favorite vacation spot. Warm memories flooded back, a bittersweet cocktail of joy and sorrow.

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Bradley glanced at the picture, his eyes lingering on the crystal-clear water and the vibrant green foliage. For a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to recognition crossed his face. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual arrogant smirk.

"Been there, done that," he said nonchalantly, reaching for his phone. "Actually, it's where I proposed to my wife, Violet."

With a flourish, he shoved his phone in front of Eden's face. The picture that greeted her was a punch to the gut — Bradley, down on one knee, holding a ring to a beautiful woman with cascading blonde hair. The woman was different. Not the one from the security line.

A hollow laugh escaped Eden's lips, devoid of humor and laced with a bitter understanding. "Ah, now I get it. That girl... she was your mistress, wasn't she? So, you were taking your mistress to the same place you fell in love with your wife?" she snapped. "Isn't there a shred of decency in you, Mister?"

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Bradley bristled, his face flushing a deep crimson. "Decency?" he scoffed. "Don't get all high and mighty on me, Grandma. I've been married to Violet for ten years. Ten years of the same face across the breakfast table, the same predictable conversations. How boring! A man needs a little variety, you see. Some spice in life."

Eden stared daggers at him. "Variety? You call betraying your wife's trust 'variety'? What about love? Commitment? Honesty?"

"Love?" he snorted. "Love gets old! Besides, I've provided for Violet. Big house, fancy car, servants at her beck and call. What more could a woman want? My wife is happy!"

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Bradley's face contorted in a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "What's the point of asking all that mushy stuff?" he blustered. "As long as she has everything she needs, what else matters? Besides, a happy wife is a demanding wife. And believe me, the last thing I need is another demanding woman in my life."

Eden threw her head back and laughed. "Demanding?" she repeated, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Is that what you think love is? A burden, a chore? No wonder your marriage is a sham."

Bradley opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. "You know what? You don't deserve Violet. You don't deserve love. All you deserve is a lifetime of looking at your reflection in the mirror... because that's all you truly care about."

A pained silence descended upon the room, heavy with the weight of Eden's words. Bradley, the bluster finally gone, seemed to shrink under her gaze. He opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

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Finally, with a scoff that lacked its usual conviction, he reached for his phone. "What kind of husband did you think I was, huh? Some lovesick fool who calls his wife every five minutes with 'hi, how are you, honey... I miss you,' crap?"

He pressed the phone against his ear, his voice morphing into a high-pitched caricature. "'Hello, honey! Did you eat? How was your day? Love you bunches! Muah... muah... muah!'" He punctuated each sentence with a dismissive giggle.

"Yeah, right," he continued, his voice returning to its normal tone as he slammed the phone down. "Life's too short for that nonsense. Violet knows the drill. She gets what she needs, and I get what I need. As long as she doesn't interfere in my business, everyone's happy."

"Well, then you married the wrong guy, sweetheart," Bradley laughed. "Look, you're a good-looking woman. You'll find someone else. Don't waste your tears on a ghost." He gestured callously towards the urn.

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"You don't get it, do you?" Eden retorted.

She swiped at the tears that streamed down her face, her fingers leaving glistening streaks on her cheeks. Clutching the urn tightly in her hand, she met Bradley's gaze with a newfound defiance.

"This isn't just dust in here," she said. "These are the ashes of a promise, a life stolen too soon by fate." Eden traced the ceramic urn with her thumb, the weight of it a painful reminder of the man she'd lost.

A flicker of something akin to pity crossed Bradley's face, quickly replaced by a scoff. "Here we go again with the lovey-dovey crap!" he muttered.

Eden ignored him. "Scott… my husband… he wouldn't have left me stranded at the airport. He wouldn't have planted a gun in my luggage. He wouldn't have…" Her voice cracked, but she pressed on. "He wouldn't have traded a lifetime of love for a cheap fling."

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A wave of nostalgia washed over her, a bittersweet tide of memories. She recalled the countless mornings Scott had surprised her with breakfast in bed, a steaming cup of coffee, and her favorite pancakes. She remembered the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the warmth of his hand tucked in hers as they walked along the beach.

"I was lucky, you know," she whispered. "Lucky to have known a love like that, even if it was cut short by cancer. And you know what? He may be gone, but his memory will live on in my heart forever."

Bradley shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the bravado he'd worn earlier fading with each passing word.

"Maybe you should get over it already," he finally blurted out, his voice laced with a hint of boredom. "Find yourself another hot guy. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know."

Eden let out a humorless laugh, the sound echoing in the sterile confines of the room. "Another hot guy, huh?" she chuckled. "Like your little… mistress, what was her name? Mia? The one who didn't hesitate to ditch you the second things got messy?"

The color drained from Bradley's face. His smug expression faltered, replaced by a look of dawning realization. Eden's words held a grain of truth.

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"Don't get all high and mighty," he mumbled.

"I'm not," Eden countered. "I'm just pointing out the hypocrisy in your words. You scoff at love, yet you clearly crave it. The difference is, Scott and I had the real thing. Something you'll never understand."

Bradley opened his mouth to retort, but just then, the door creaked open and the customs officer reappeared.

"Hold on a minute, Mr. Thompson," he said. "Just reviewed the security footage from the gate. Seems like there was a bit more to the story than a misplaced lighter."

"A lighter?" Eden gasped.

"Yes! The gun we found in your bag... it's just a lighter!" the officer explained. "And you, Mr. Thompson, you've got some explaining to do!"

"Wha-What are you talking about?" Bradley pretended.

The officer raised an eyebrow. "About you shoving the fake gun in Ms. Harris's bag! Everything's recorded in the cameras."

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A wave of relief washed over Eden and a light-hearted laughter erupted from within. But her moment of triumph was short-lived.

"And you, Ms. Harris," the officer said. "Starting a physical altercation in a public area isn't exactly the best way to handle a situation. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't laugh."

Eden's smile vanished. "He started it!" she protested. "That jerk shoved a gun in my bag!"

"You watch your mouth!" Bradley retorted.

Before Eden and Bradley could hurl more verbal missiles their way, the officer slammed his hand on the table, silencing them both. "Enough, both of you!" he said. "You two are both lucky. No charges are being pressed. But consider this a warning."

He gestured towards the door. "You're free to go. But don't expect to be catching any flights today."

Disbelief washed over Eden. "What do you mean?" she stammered. "I have a connecting flight to catch!"

The officer shrugged. "Airport security doesn't take kindly to public brawls, ma'am. Consider it a consequence of your actions."

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Eden whirled towards Bradley, her eyes blazing with fury. "You happy now?" she spat. "You've ruined everything! All your money, all your fancy cars, they can't buy you what you clearly don't have — a decent heart or a shred of human decency!"

"Argh, cut it already, will you? You're the most annoying woman I've ever met," Bradley muttered.

"Don't even bother," Eden lashed out. "You may have won this time, but some things, like true love, are beyond your reach. Maybe someday you'll figure it out. But I hope it's not too late. "

With that, she turned and walked out of the detention room, the urn held close to her chest.

***

At the check-in counter, Eden explained her predicament to the agent, her voice laced with desperation. "There must be something you can do," she pleaded. "I can't miss my flight!"

"Unfortunately, ma'am, this flight has already departed and we can't issue refunds for tickets cancelled due to passenger misconduct."

Just then, a voice cut through the air. "Can I help you with something, friend?"

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Eden whirled around, her blood pressure spiking. There, standing behind her, was Bradley, a smug grin plastered on his face.

"You? Not again? Stay out of it. Look, I don't even know him, okay!" she snapped. "And you're definitely not my friend!"

The check-in agent, clearly annoyed by the commotion, shot them both a withering look. "Would you two please calm down?" she cut in sternly.

Bradley ignored her, his gaze fixed on Eden. "Relax, okay? Just trying to be helpful."

He turned back to the agent. "When's the next flight to Mexico?"

A vein throbbed in Eden's temple. "How dare he? After everything that had happened, he has the audacity to…" she mumbled.

Eden's jaw clenched. Giving up that one ticket to Bradley? It was a nightmare come true.

"Don't you even think about it!" she exploded, her voice laced with a desperate fury.

Undeterred, Bradley turned to the agent. "One ticket to Mexico, please. Make it snappy, I don't have all day."

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The sheer audacity of the man left Eden speechless for a moment. Then, a wave of anger crashed over her, hot and blinding.

"You jerk!" she shrieked. "Here I am, trying to fulfill my husband's last wish, to scatter his ashes in the place he loved, and you… you've turned this whole thing into a nightmare by getting the ticket for some fancy trip!"

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. "Honestly," she continued, her voice cracking, "I just want to walk into a bar, order the strongest drink I can find, and forget I ever met you. Forget the humiliation, the fear, the way you managed to take something so precious and twist it into this—"

The check-in agent, clearly exasperated by the entire ordeal, cleared her throat. "Folks," she said, "can we make a decision here? The line's getting backed up."

Bradley, for once, seemed to register the impatience in her voice. He glanced at the growing queue behind them, then back at Eden.

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"Fine," he said, shoving his card onto the counter with a flourish. "I'll take the ticket."

Eden glared at him, a bitter taste settling on her tongue. Bradley had won. He'd managed to weasel his way into her plans, turning her moment of grief into a tool to disrupt her plans and serve his own agenda.

"You've won!" she declared, snapping away a stray tear. "But your victory is built on the tears and heartbreak of others. I'll find a way to get to Mexico, with or without this ticket. And hopefully, today will be the last time our paths ever cross."

She turned away, tears streaming down her face. A fresh wave of anger, this time directed at a higher power, washed over her.

A hand touched her shoulder, gentle yet firm. She flinched, expecting another barb from Bradley. Instead, she felt the crisp crinkle of paper against her palm as he pressed her flight ticket and passport into her hand.

"Next time you're at a bar in Mexico," he said, his voice surprisingly soft, "do me a favor. Find yourself a charming man. Someone who deserves your love and respect."

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Eden stared at him, dumbfounded. This wasn't the arrogant, self-centered man she'd spent the past day battling. He was… different. A hesitant smile touched her lips.

"You're giving up your ticket for me?" she cried.

"Thank you," Eden threw herself in his arms. "I'll never forget you... and your help!"

"Me too!" Bradley smiled as Eden turned around and walked away with the ticket.

Only then did Bradley notice the glint of ceramic abandoned on the counter. It was the urn. He snatched it from the counter and hurried after Eden, his heart pounding in his chest.

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He spotted her moments later, her eyes glued to the airport TV screen in front of her. Her face, etched with worry, creased further as he approached.

"Hey," Bradley said softly, halting beside her. He held out the urn. "You forgot this."

Eden's gaze flickered to the urn, then back to the TV. Her eyes widened in horror. A breaking news report blazoned across the screen: "Commercial Plane Crashes Shortly After Takeoff, Hundreds Feared Dead."

A gasp escaped both their lips. Bradley pointed at the screen with a trembling finger. "That… that was our flight," he stammered.

She turned to Bradley, a tearful smile twisting her lips. "We're alive!" he breathed, his voice choked with emotion.

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The smile faltered when she saw the tears streaming down Bradley's face. His bravado, his arrogance, all of it had melted away, replaced by a raw vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

Suddenly, a woman materialized beside them. She launched herself at Bradley, her arms wrapping tightly around him. "Honey!" she cried, her voice thick with relief. "Oh my God, are you alright?"

Recognition dawned on Eden. It was Violet, Bradley's wife. A pang of something akin to pity shot through her.

"I'm fine," Bradley choked out, his voice muffled against Violet's shoulder. "I've never been better."

Bradley held her close, whispering reassurances into her hair. He glanced towards Eden, a flicker of something she couldn't decipher crossing his face.

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"Now I understand," he said, his voice barely audible. "The flight delay… it was all for a reason. Thank God for the mess at the airport, for everything that happened."

Eden watched them, a bittersweet feeling settling in her chest. She had come here seeking closure, but fate, it seemed, had other plans. A single tear traced a path down her cheek, a silent goodbye to the man who was once rude but not anymore.

With the urn clutched tightly in her hand, Eden turned away. She stepped out into the cool night air, leaving Bradley and Violet in each other's arms.

As the airport doors closed behind Eden, Bradley locked eyes with Violet. "Sweetheart," he began. "I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible husband."

Violet shook her head, her smile gentle. "No, you haven't," she insisted. "You're the most amazing, the most adorable husband a girl could ask for. I'm so lucky to have you, honey."

Bradley reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. He leaned down and kissed her hand, a newfound appreciation for the love he'd almost taken for granted shining in his eyes.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

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While an entitled Bradley learned the true meaning of love, thanks to Eden, things worked quite differently for a rude Alan. On his first date, he mocked poor Sally upon seeing her in a wheelchair. He rejected her right away, only to tearfully regret it later. Here's the full story.

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