They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but what I cooked up for my grandsons after they abandoned my wife at a gas station was downright frigid. Sometimes love looks like tough lessons, and sometimes lessons need to hurt to stick. I don’t like to talk about my private life on social media, but what happened last month was something that had to be shared here.

For 43 years, I worked my fingers to the bone at the same manufacturing plant, climbing from floor worker to shift supervisor before finally retiring three years ago. Every overtime shift, every missed weekend, and every aching muscle was all to make sure my family had what they needed.

Not necessarily what they wanted, mind you, but what they needed. A stable home. Good education. Dinner on the table every night.

Now, in my retirement, I’ve finally been able to focus on the one person who stood by me through it all. My Laura. My wife of 43 years, with her soft smile and that quiet laugh that still makes my heart skip like it did when we were teenagers.

She’s the kind of woman who remembers everyone’s birthday, who still clips coupons even though we don’t need to anymore, who volunteers at the animal shelter every Tuesday because “the cats get lonely.”

We’ve got two twin grandsons. Kyle and Dylan, both 23.

They’re smart and charming. I always thought they were raised well until the moment I received a phone call from Laura.

It started just before Easter. The boys showed up at our door unannounced, saying they had a “surprise” for Grandma’s birthday.

According to them, they were planning a trip to Washington, D.C. because she’d always dreamed of seeing the cherry blossoms there.

I remember how her eyes lit up when they described the Jefferson Memorial surrounded by pink petals and the boat rides on the Potomac.

They told her she didn’t need to lift a finger.

They’d book the hotel, cover the meals, and take care of everything. All she had to do was let them borrow her car for the journey. Laura cried right there in our living room. Said it was the sweetest gift she’d ever been given.

I won’t lie, even I got misty-eyed watching her happiness.

After four decades of putting everyone else first, my Laura was finally getting the recognition she deserved.

But I should’ve known something was off when they said, “You don’t need to come, Grandpa. We want this to be just for her.”

I chalked it up to them wanting quality time with their grandmother. Now I wish I’d listened to that little voice in the back of my head.