They called it a retirement gift—a lavish beach vacation to thank my grandfather for everything he’d done. But when I showed up on the last day, I realized it had all been a lie.
Grandpa stood in the hotel lobby, confused and hurt, holding a bill for thousands of dollars. The family had charged everything to his room—then left without a word.
When I called my cousin, her response was chilling. “He’s retired,” she said. “He can handle it.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the man who had always been there for us, who had given so much without ever asking for anything in return. And this was how they repaid him?
I refused to let it stand. I paid the bill, then sent detailed invoices to every family member who had taken advantage of him. They paid—every last one of them.
Now, Grandpa and I have our own little traditions. The people who betrayed him are gone, and honestly? We’re better off without them.
