Before Disembarking Plane, Pilot Notices Last Passenger inside Who Is a Carbon Copy of Him – Story of the Day

Before disembarking the plane he had just landed, Captain Edward Blair noticed a lone man on the plane who refused to leave. Upon looking clearly, he realized the man was his carbon copy.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is Captain Edward Blair speaking. We have just landed at the Chicago Midway International Airport. We hope you enjoyed your flight with us, and we wish to see you on one of your future flights,” the captain spoke from the cockpit after successfully landing the aircraft.

After parking the plane, the captain and his first officer followed protocol by waiting for all passengers to disembark before leaving the cockpit. When it was their turn to leave, he opened the cockpit door and saw the flight purser talking to a man who refused to leave the plane.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Everything good here?” Edward asked, approaching them.

The flight purser nodded. “I’ll give you guys some time,” she smiled before walking towards the back of the plane.

Edward was confused about why she wanted to leave him alone with the passenger until he realized what she meant. There stood a man who looked exactly like him. Before he could say anything, the man spoke.

“Do you want to see mom?” he asked.

“I can’t believe my eyes. Is it you, Adam? Did mom ever come back? She’s alive and well?” Edward replied, so many thoughts suddenly rushing to his head.

Adam was Edward’s twin brother, whom he hadn’t seen in decades. Edward left the orphanage when he was eight, and they were now 32 years old.

“I asked you a question first. Do you want to see your mom?” Adam asked again with an impatient tone.

Edward nodded, and Adam stepped out of the plane. Edward followed behind and the two of them got into a taxi heading towards the city.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

On the way, Adam was silent the entire time. Meanwhile, Edward couldn’t help but try and explain himself with tears in his eyes.

“When she left us at the orphanage, I really didn’t think she’d ever come back. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I understood that she couldn’t feed us because dad left, but I thought she left us because a part of her wanted to leave us too. I didn’t think she’d ever come back, Adam,” he explained.

“So instead, you agreed to be adopted by a wealthy family. You chose them over ME! I begged you for days not to leave me in that place, but you chose to live a life of comfort over your own blood. She came back a year after you left, and she couldn’t forgive herself for losing you,” Adam answered back.

“Up until today, she blames herself for not having enough to keep you. Don’t get me wrong – I hate you. In fact, I hate you as much as I hate our father. I stopped looking for you years ago, but when I heard your name on that plane, I remembered mom and her wish to see you,” he added with gritted teeth.

After a couple of minutes, the taxi came to a stop. Adam got out and stormed towards an old house that surprised Edward. He realized that his brother and mother lived in poverty.

Although Adam had a long-time girlfriend, he could not ask her to marry him because he spent most of his time working and caring for his sick mother. He’s always wanted to settle down and start a family, but he felt indebted to his mom and wanted to make sure she lived the rest of her life comfortably.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

As they entered the house, Edward immediately saw his mother, Annie, in a wheelchair, sitting in their living room. When she saw both her sons in the same room, she sobbed and could not calm down.

“Oh my god, it’s you, Edward. Adam, you and your brother are both here. You’re back,” she sobbed, bringing her wheelchair closer to her sons.

“He’s not back, mom. He just came to see you, but he’ll be back in his mansion when the night ends,” Adam said passively while pouring a glass of water for his mom to calm down.

Edward didn’t hesitate to walk toward his mom, hug her and beg for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, mom. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you’d come back for us. I wish you could forgive me,” he cried.

“I don’t blame you, son. I don’t blame you at all. I am sorry for not being able to give you and Adam a good life from the beginning. I wish I could, but it was so difficult for me to find work. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so glad that you’re here,” his mother replied, stroking his hair as they embraced.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Would you like to stay the night? We have a lot to catch up on. I’d love for you to spend more time with us,” she asked him.

“I’m sorry, mom, but I have to go home tonight. I got a job in France, so my adoptive parents and I will be moving. The flight back home to Chicago was my last one here. I think it was meant to be that Adam was in the flight, as I got to see you,” he explained.

After hearing that his son was moving to Europe, Annie was heartbroken. “You’re leaving?” she said weakly. “I wish we could have found each other sooner… I’m sad that our time together was so short.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I will visit you as much as I can. I am sure I’ll have flights to the US,” Edward said, apologizing once more.

“Stop getting her hopes up. She doesn’t deserve to be heartbroken at her age. Get out!” Adam retorted, realizing that his brother simply just wanted to see their mother but not build a connection with her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

A couple of days after their encounter, Adam noticed a transportation service arrive in the house across from theirs, and men started loading furniture inside, along with appliances.

“Mom, it seems someone bought the house right in front of ours. We’ll have new neighbors soon,” he told her.

Annie was delighted, as she had always wanted neighbors. She enjoyed baking and was looking to share her creations with other people.

However, they were surprised when the man who followed shortly after, driving a luxury vehicle, turned out to be Edward. Adam and Annie opened their front door to confront him. “What are you doing here?” Adam asked his brother.

“I spoke to my wife about what happened the other day, and we both realized that our home wasn’t in France, but here. I turned down the job offer from the French airline and told my adoptive parents I wanted to relocate somewhere in Chicago instead. They understood and promised they’d keep in touch while they enjoyed their retirement in Europe,” Edward explained.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I am sorry that I never got a chance to look for you, mom. I know I’ve made many mistakes in the past, but I hope you give me a chance to prove to you that I am not a bad person and that I genuinely want to spend time with you. I want to reconnect with you too, Adam. We are brothers. I love you both, and I will prove just how much if you’d let me,” he added.

Annie could not believe it, and she began to cry. Edward introduced his wife Emma and young daughter Alex to Annie and Adam, warming their hearts. While Annie caught up with Alex and Emma, Adam and Edward had a good talk.

“I know you don’t trust me at all, Adam, but please give me this chance to prove to you that I have good intentions for you and mom,” he begged.

“I’m willing to let go of my past issues for mom’s sake. She looks happy, and that’s all that matters to me,” Adam admitted.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The brothers caught up with one another, and Edward found out that Adam had a long-time girlfriend he wanted to marry. He volunteered to take care of their mother in the house next door while Adam worked on his own personal relationship.

Edward had Adam’s house repaired, and the renovations made it look good as new. Adam began to work on his personal life while Edward and his family cared for Annie next door. The family would get together every night for a good meal and conversation.

What can we learn from this story?

  • People meant to be in your life will always find their way back to you. Adam didn’t know that Edward was on his flight back to Chicago that day. Their chance encounter brought Edward back to the company of his mother and brother, whom he had not seen for years.
  • It’s never too late to start over. Adam was angry at his brother Edward for abandoning him, but they were able to set aside their differences for the sake of their mom. They ended up rebuilding their relationships with one another, leading them to become a stronger and happier family.

Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.

My Husband Canceled My Birthday Dinner So His Friends Could Watch the Game at Our House — He Regretted It

On her birthday, Janine plans the perfect evening. Homemade dinner, candlelight and the quiet hope of being seen. But when her husband arrives with his friends and forgets everything, she makes a decision he never saw coming. This isn’t just a story about a ruined dinner. It’s about the night a woman finally chose herself.

I’m not dramatic.

I don’t need grand gestures or rose petals on the floor. I’ve never dreamed of surprise parties or social media tributes with sparkly filters and “I’m so lucky” captions. I don’t want to be the center of attention, twirling in a spotlight.

A pensive woman | Source: Midjourney

A pensive woman | Source: Midjourney

never have.

But once a year, on my birthday, I believe that it’s fair to ask for a little effort. A little pause. A little something that says, Hey, I know you exist. I’m glad you’re here.

Just one evening. To feel seen.

Apparently, even that is too much.

A woman sitting at a table and holding her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a table and holding her head | Source: Midjourney

I’m Janine. I’m the wife who remembers your coffee order, who packs snacks for your long drives, who listens, really listens, even when I’m exhausted. I’m the one who irons your shirts before your big meeting and makes sure that there’s a fresh towel when you step out of the shower.

I know the exact way you like your pie crust. Flaky, never soggy. I restock your cold meds before you even realize you’re sick. And when you’re down, I hover like you’re the last man on Earth, delivering soup like it’s sacred.

I don’t make things about me. I never have. I’ve always found comfort in the background, in the quiet flow of taking care of everyone else.

A freshly baked pie on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney

A freshly baked pie on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney

But this year?

I just wanted one day. One moment. One simple celebration that wasn’t something I had to build with my own two hands.

And I thought, I really thought, that he’d notice.

I sat on the porch step with a mug of matcha warming my hands, watching the last of the evening light spill over the driveway. The scent of jasmine drifted from the garden I kept alive alone, season after season.

A woman sitting on a porch step | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a porch step | Source: Midjourney

And I remembered another birthday.

Two years ago. A Wednesday. I came home from work to find the house quiet. No card. No cake. Just a sink full of dishes and Kyle in the den, cursing at his fantasy football stats.

“I’ll make it up to you this weekend,” he’d said, not looking up from his laptop. But he never did. The weekend came and went with errands, Kyle nursing a hangover, and a quick dinner at a noisy bar where he checked his phone between bites of pizza.

A man sitting on a couch with his laptop | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a couch with his laptop | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t cry then, either, in the silence of my own company. But I realized something bitter:

He didn’t forget. My husband didn’t forget. He just didn’t think that it mattered.

And that realization landed harder than any missed dinner ever could.

A woman laying in her bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman laying in her bed | Source: Midjourney

But this year, I decided to change everything. I wanted it to be about me. I needed it to be about me.

I planned my own birthday dinner.

Not a restaurant… I didn’t want to force Kyle into anything “extra.” No reservations, no price tags, no fuss. Just a quiet evening at home with candles flickering in little glass holders.

Candles on a table | Source: Midjourney

Candles on a table | Source: Midjourney

Kyle’s favorite roast lamb, slow-cooked with rosemary and garlic. A jazz playlist humming in the background. The table set with linen napkins I’d ironed that morning, polished silverware and two wine glasses we’d barely used since our anniversary three years ago.

For dessert, I made a cake from scratch. Lemon zest and almond cream because when we were still dating, my husband had mentioned that flavor reminded him of his grandmother. He’d only said it once, in passing.

But I remembered.

A cake on a platter | Source: Midjourney

A cake on a platter | Source: Midjourney

I even bought myself a new dress. Navy blue. It was fitted at the waist, soft against the skin. I curled my hair, put on a touch of lipstick and dabbed the perfume he bought me four Christmases ago. The same perfume that I’d only worn twice.

It smelled like hope to me.

I wanted to be seen. Not in a social media post way. But in a “my husband actually notices me” way.

Which is why I planned the entire thing… for my birthday.

A smiling woman wearing a navy dress | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman wearing a navy dress | Source: Midjourney

By the evening, everything was ready. The lamb rested on a serving dish. The wine was chilled. The mint sauce was in a little white bowl. The cake was cooling under a glass dome.

I checked the clock. Rechecked the table. Adjusted the vase of tulips. Smoothed the front of my dress with slightly shaking hands.

And then, the front door opened. Laughter, loud and thoughtless, spilled down the hall.

A vase of tulips on a dining table | Source: Midjourney

A vase of tulips on a dining table | Source: Midjourney

The smell of greasy pizza took over the house. The thud of boots not wiped at the door. The air had shifted immediately.

Kyle walked in, laughing with his friends. He was balancing two twelve-packs and three pizza boxes. Behind him were Chris, Josh and Dev. Kyle’s game-night crew. They called out greetings, already halfway to the couch.

No “happy birthday.” No flowers. Not even a glance at the candles I’d lit or the silverware I’d polished. Just noise, beer and the sound of something inside me quietly folding in on itself.

Boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

“Kyle?” I called. “Come here a sec?”

He sighed and walked toward me.

Kyle looked at the table and paused.

“Oh, right…” he said slowly. “This was tonight, huh? Yeah, we’re going to have to reschedule, Janine. The guys are here to watch the game.”

A frowning man wearing a sports jersey | Source: Midjourney

A frowning man wearing a sports jersey | Source: Midjourney

There was no apology. No hesitation. Just a lazy shrug and a look toward the couch.

He plopped down like he owned the room, kicked off his shoes and reached for the remote. The TV lit up in a flash. His voice rose over the music I had carefully chosen. He cracked a beer and held it up like a trophy.

I just sat there, at the dining table, trying to understand when I’d lost my husband.

A pair of boots on the floor | Source: Midjourney

A pair of boots on the floor | Source: Midjourney

“Starving, babe,” he said a few minutes later, standing right in front of me. “I’m taking the lamb. Looks delicious. There’s pizza if you want.”

He took the roast lamb and started picking at it. The one I’d basted and brushed every half hour. The one I made to feel like a hug on a plate.

Josh came to the table and grabbed the bowl of roast potatoes. Chris poured wine into a red Solo cup. Dev joked about the candlelight, calling it “romantic for a dude’s night.”

A platter of roast lamb | Source: Midjourney

A platter of roast lamb | Source: Midjourney

I stood in the doorway, hands at my sides, watching.

Watching the napkins I’d ironed crumple beneath greasy hands. Watching the food I’d made for myself, on my own birthday, disappear into paper plates and careless mouths.

Watching my night die in real time. In front of me.

An upset woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

But I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.

Instead, I smiled. A small, hollow thing.

“Wait,” I said calmly. “I made something really special for tonight. Just give me five minutes, okay?”

They nodded, barely looking up, thinking I probably had dessert or some party trick coming. They went back to their chatter and chewing.

A man holding a plate of pizza | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a plate of pizza | Source: Midjourney

But that was it. I wasn’t having it anymore. Enough was enough.

I walked to the laundry room. I opened the fuse box. Took one last deep breath and shut everything down. The power, the Wi-Fi, the backup router.

All of it.

The house dropped into sudden darkness. The TV cut off mid-commentary. The fridge stopped humming. The only sound was the dull confusion rising in the dark.

A woman standing in a laundry room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a laundry room | Source: Midjourney

“Babe?!” Kyle’s voice echoed down the hall.

“What happened?” I asked.

I returned to the kitchen with a candle in hand, illuminating the untouched birthday cake still glowing on the counter like a soft little rebellion. I picked up my phone and texted my parents.

“What’s going on?” Josh mumbled.

Candles on a dining table | Source: Midjourney

Candles on a dining table | Source: Midjourney

“Power outage,” I said simply. “You’ll probably have to call someone. Might take a few hours.”

Then I packed the rest of the food, well, what hadn’t been mauled, into containers. I slid them into a tote bag, grabbed my coat and keys and walked right out of the door.

No one stopped me.

Leftovers in a container | Source: Midjourney

Leftovers in a container | Source: Midjourney

I drove to my parents’ house. My sister was there. So were a few old friends from the neighborhood. There were balloons. Gifts. A hand-drawn banner. A cake from the 24-hour bakery. How they managed to do all of that in the 30 minutes it took to get there, I’ll never know.

There was music that didn’t make my ears ring. There was no loud sport commentary. There was laughter that didn’t feel forced.

There was a seat, just for me.

A birthday cake on a table | Source: Midjourney

A birthday cake on a table | Source: Midjourney

And for the first time in years, I felt celebrated.

I laughed. I danced. I ate a slice of cake that didn’t taste like obligation. There were candles, hugs, stories from old friends who still remembered the girl I used to be. For once, I didn’t feel like an afterthought. I felt like Janine, not someone’s wife, or someone’s “MVP.”

I was just… me.

A smiling woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

I got texts, of course. Missed calls. Kyle even left a voicemail. His voice was laced with confusion more than concern.

“You’re seriously mad, Janine? Over dinner? Call me back.”

I didn’t.

But I returned home the next morning.

A cellphone on a table | Source: Midjourney

A cellphone on a table | Source: Midjourney

Kyle was in the kitchen, arms crossed, his foot tapping against the tile like he’d been practicing his speech.

“Seriously?” he snapped the moment I walked in. “Cutting the power? Over a missed dinner? I was still in the house! We were sharing the dinner with my boys! That was just so dramatic, Janine.”

His tone was all accusation and zero apology. Like I was a child who’d flipped a Monopoly board instead of a woman who’d finally run out of patience.

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t answer. Just slipped off my coat, set down my bag and pulled out a neatly wrapped box from the tote.

“What’s that?” he blinked.

I handed it to him without a word. He tore at the wrapping, the irritation still clinging to him.

Then he saw what was inside.

A box on a table | Source: Midjourney

A box on a table | Source: Midjourney

Divorce papers. They weren’t real, yet. I hadn’t had the time to get real papers drawn up. This was something I’d downloaded off the internet at my parents’ house. There were no names on it but I figured that it would get the message across.

Kyle’s hands froze mid-flip. His brow furrowed as he scanned the top page, as if some fine print might reveal it was a joke.

“You can’t be serious,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. Less sure.

I looked at him, really looked, and saw a man so used to being prioritized that it never crossed his mind that I might choose myself.

Divorce documents on a table | Source: Midjourney

Divorce documents on a table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re right,” I said, my voice soft. “I wasn’t serious. Not about dinner. Not about birthdays. Not about me. I stopped being serious about what I needed a long time ago, Kyle.”

I paused, taking a deep breath.

“But I’m done being the only one who cares.”

I walked past him, the click of my heels the only punctuation I needed. I didn’t look back. But as I reached the doorway, I stopped.

A frowning woman wearing a sweater | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman wearing a sweater | Source: Midjourney

I pulled the candle from my bag, the one that had stayed lit through dinner, through the drive, through the quiet.

I walked back into the living room, set it gently on the windowsill and lit it. Its glow was steady. Small. Defiant.

Kyle stood behind me, confused.

“The power’s back,” he said stupidly.

A candle lit in a windowsill | Source: Midjourney

A candle lit in a windowsill | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not about that. It’s not for that. I don’t need the power back on,” I said. “I found everything I needed in the dark, Kyle.”

And then I left. No speech. No slam of the door.

Just the quiet sound of a woman choosing herself for the first time in far too long. I’m not sure what game they were watching that night… but I know who really won. Because I may have walked out with cold leftovers and one flickering flame. But I also walked out with my dignity.

And I never looked back.

A woman walking down a driveway | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking down a driveway | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*