I dragged myself through the front door at 8:30 p.m., my whole body aching after a brutal twelve-hour shift at the hospital. The second I stepped inside, the noise hit me like a freight train. The TV blasted cartoons at full volume, and Zach and Penny were running in circles, shrieking like little tornadoes of chaos.
And there was Garrett—my husband—lounging on the couch, sprawled out like he was the king of the castle, a beer in one hand, his phone in the other.
“Hey, babe,” he said, eyes glued to his screen. “Long day?”
I clenched my jaw, swallowing the sharp retort bubbling up in my throat. “Yeah, you could say that. The ER was a nightmare today.” I took a step forward and nearly tripped over a mountain of toys and empty snack wrappers. My gaze landed on Garrett, unimpressed. “Did you feed the kids dinner?”
He barely looked up. “They had some chips earlier. Figured you’d wanna cook when you got home.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten. This was how it had been for the past few years—me working my butt off while Garrett acted like an overgrown teenager who couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.
“Mommy!” Penny, my five-year-old, latched onto my leg, her blonde pigtails a frizzy mess. “I’m starving!”
I forced a smile and ruffled her hair. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you both some real food.”
As I reheated some leftovers, my mind wandered to our upcoming beach vacation. Maybe some time away together would help Garrett and me reconnect. Maybe he’d remember why we fell in love in the first place.
“So, have you packed for the trip yet?” I asked as I placed plates in front of the kids.
Garrett let out a grunt. “Nah, I’ll throw some stuff in a bag tomorrow. No big deal.”
I sighed. “We leave in two days, Garrett. A little planning wouldn’t kill you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Relax. You worry too much.”
The night before we were supposed to leave, I woke up to the sound of someone throwing up. I rushed to the bathroom to find Zach hunched over the toilet, his little face pale and sweaty. Within an hour, Penny was sick too.
By morning, it was clear—we weren’t going anywhere. I broke the news to Garrett over breakfast. “We have to postpone the trip. The kids are too sick to travel.”
Garrett froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “What? No way. I’ve been looking forward to this for months!”
“I know, but they have a bad stomach bug. We can reschedule.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m still going.”
I stared at him, sure I’d misheard. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I need this break, Nora. Work’s been insane lately.”
I let out a sharp laugh, disbelief coursing through me. “And my job isn’t? I’m a nurse, Garrett. I deal with real emergencies every single day.”
He scoffed. “It’s not a competition. Look, you stay with the kids. I’ll go enjoy the beach for both of us.”
I watched in shock as he packed his suitcase, completely ignoring Zach and Penny’s disappointed little faces. And when the front door slammed shut behind him, something inside me snapped.
The next week was absolute hell. I juggled two miserable, feverish kids while Garrett sent me smug photos of himself sipping cocktails by the ocean.
Then, on Friday, my phone buzzed with another picture. Garrett, grinning like an idiot, a fruity drink in hand. The caption? “Living the dream!”
That was the final straw.
I stormed into the garage and looked around at Garrett’s beloved “man cave.” His expensive fishing gear, the boat he never used, all the pricey junk he’d collected over the years. And just like that, a plan formed in my mind.
I spent the next few hours taking photos of everything, listing it all for sale online. By the end of the weekend, his precious toys were gone, replaced by a nice, fat stack of cash in my purse.
The following Monday morning, I made a special announcement at breakfast. “Guess what, kids? We’re going on our own vacation!”
Zach’s eyes widened. “Really?! Where?!”
I grinned. “It’s a surprise. But I promise, it’ll be even better than Dad’s boring old beach.”
Three days later, we arrived at a beautiful resort, and the kids were bouncing with excitement. Watching them splash in the pool, their laughter filling the air, I felt lighter than I had in years.
“Mom, look!” Zach called, mid-cannonball. I cheered as he made a giant splash.
“You’re a natural with them,” a voice said beside me. I turned to see a woman around my age smiling. “Single mom?”
I hesitated. “It’s… complicated.”
She nodded. “I get it. Been there. I’m Tessa, by the way.”
We chatted while the kids played, swapping stories about work and parenthood. It felt good to connect with someone who understood.
“So, what’s your story?” she asked.
I sighed. “My husband ditched us when the kids got sick and went on our family vacation alone. So I sold all his junk and used the money to bring my kids here.”
Tessa’s jaw dropped. “No way! That’s brilliant! How’d he take it?”
“He doesn’t know yet.” I smirked. “But I’m sure I’ll find out soon.”
As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Garrett’s name flashed on the screen.
“Speaking of the devil,” I muttered. “Time to face the music.”
I answered, and Garrett’s furious voice exploded through the speaker. “Where the hell is all my stuff?!”
I leaned back against a palm tree, surprisingly calm. “Oh, you noticed? I figured you’d be too busy ‘living the dream’ to care.”
“Don’t play games, Nora. What did you do?”
“I sold it. All of it. Your fishing gear, that boat you never use—everything.”
There was silence. Then—”You WHAT?! How could you?!”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, you mean like how you abandoned your sick kids for a beach vacation? Yeah, I wonder.”
“That’s different! I work hard to provide—”
“And I don’t?” I cut him off. “I’m done, Garrett. Done with your selfishness, done with being treated like a maid. I want a divorce.”
The line went silent for a long time. Then, in a low, angry voice, he said, “You’ll regret this, Nora. I’ll see you in court.”
I hung up, my hands shaking. But for the first time in years, I felt… free.
Tessa handed me a cocktail. “Everything okay?”
I exhaled and smiled. “Yeah. I think it will be.”
That night, as the kids slept, I sat on the balcony, watching the moonlit waves. My phone buzzed with a final message from Garrett.
“This isn’t over.”
I looked at the ocean, feeling the salt air on my skin.
Yes, it was. And for the first time in a long time, my future felt like my own.
