I pushed open the front door, exhaustion weighing me down after a brutal twelve-hour shift at the hospital. It was nearly 8:30 p.m., and all I wanted was a hot shower and some peace. Instead, I was greeted by pure chaos.
The TV blasted cartoons at full volume, Zach and Penny shrieked as they tore through the living room, and there, in the middle of it all, was Garrett—sprawled out on the couch, a beer in one hand and his phone in the other, looking as relaxed as if he’d spent the whole day at a spa.
“Hey, babe,” he called out lazily, not even bothering to glance up. “Rough day?”
I bit my tongue, holding back the snarky response bubbling up inside me. “You could say that. The ER was packed.” I took a quick look around the house—toy cars, snack wrappers, and overturned cushions covered the floor like a war zone. My patience was running thin. “Did you at least feed the kids dinner?”
Garrett shrugged without an ounce of guilt. “They had some chips earlier. Figured you’d want to cook when you got home.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, trying to keep my temper in check. Lately, this had become our routine—me coming home to a disaster and Garrett acting like an overgrown teenager.
“Mommy!” Penny latched onto my leg, her blonde pigtails bouncing. “I’m soooo hungry!”
I forced a smile, pushing my exhaustion aside. “Alright, sweetie. Let’s get you some real food.”
As I reheated leftovers, I clung to the thought of our upcoming family vacation. Maybe a change of scenery would remind Garrett what it meant to be a partner, to be a father.
“So,” I said as I placed plates in front of the kids, “you packed for the trip yet?”
Garrett grunted, his attention still glued to his phone. “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. It’ll be fine. You worry too much.”
The night before our flight, I was jolted awake by the sound of retching. I rushed to the bathroom to find Zach hunched over the toilet, his face ghostly pale. Not long after, Penny joined him, her tiny body trembling as she clutched her stomach. My heart ached for them.
The next morning, I broke the news to Garrett. “We have to postpone the trip. The kids have a stomach virus.”
He froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. “What? No way. I’ve been looking forward to this for months!”
“I know,” I said gently, “but they’re too sick to travel. We can reschedule.”
His jaw tightened. “I’m still going.”
I stared at him, convinced I had misheard. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I need this break, Nora. Work’s been crazy. I deserve this.”
My blood boiled. “And my job isn’t? I’m a nurse, Garrett. I deal with actual emergencies every single day.”
He scoffed. “It’s not a competition. Look, you stay here with the kids. I’ll go enjoy the beach for both of us.”
I was speechless as he packed his suitcase, ignoring Zach and Penny’s heartbroken faces. When he walked out that door, something inside me shattered.
The next week was hell. Between cleaning up vomit, comforting feverish kids, and managing the house alone, my anger toward Garrett grew with every smug beach selfie he sent. The final straw came on Friday when my phone buzzed with yet another photo—Garrett, lounging with a cocktail, captioned: “Living the dream!”
That was it. I had had enough.
I stormed into the garage and stared at Garrett’s so-called “man cave.” Fishing gear, an expensive boat he never used, stacks of overpriced gadgets—all of it screamed of his selfishness. That’s when the idea struck.
For the next few hours, I took photos and posted every last one of his prized possessions online. Within days, everything was sold, replaced by a thick envelope of cash in my purse.
“Guess what, kids?” I announced at breakfast. “We’re going on our own special vacation!”
Their eyes lit up. Zach pumped his fist. “Awesome! Where are we going?”
I grinned. “It’s a surprise. But I promise it’ll be even better than Dad’s boring old beach.”
We arrived at a beautiful resort a few days later, the kids bouncing with excitement. As I watched them splash in the pool, I felt lighter than I had in years.
“Mom, watch this!” Zach called, attempting a cannonball. I cheered, then turned to help Penny with her water wings.
A woman nearby smiled at me. “You’re a natural with them. Single mom?”
I hesitated. “It’s… complicated.”
She nodded. “Been there. I’m Tessa.”
We chatted as the kids played, swapping stories about work and parenting. It felt good to connect with someone who understood.
“So what’s your story?” she asked.
I sighed. “My husband ditched us to go on our family vacation alone. Left me with two sick kids while he partied on the beach.”
Tessa’s eyes widened. “No way. What a jerk!”
I smirked. “Oh, it gets better. I sold all his toys and used the money to bring the kids here.”
She burst out laughing. “You’re my hero. How did he take it?”
“He doesn’t know yet. But I’m sure I’ll find out soon.”
As if on cue, my phone rang. Garrett’s name flashed on the screen. I sighed, stepping away to answer.
“Where the hell is all my stuff?” he barked.
I leaned against a palm tree, feeling oddly calm. “Oh, you noticed? Thought you’d be too busy ‘living the dream’ to care.”
“Don’t play games, Nora. What did you do?”
“I sold it. Every last bit. Your fishing rods, that boat you never used, everything.”
Silence. Then—”You what?! How could you?”
“How could I?” I shot back. “How could you abandon your sick kids for a vacation? How could you take me for granted all these years?”
“I work hard for this family!”
“And I don’t?” My voice was firm. “I’m done, Garrett. I want a divorce.”
His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You’ll regret this. I’ll see you in court.”
I hung up, my hands shaking. But beneath the fear, I felt something I hadn’t in years—freedom.
I returned to the pool, where Tessa handed me a cocktail. “Everything okay?”
I smiled. “Yeah. For the first time in a long time, I think it will be.”
That night, Zach looked up at me. “Mom, are you and Dad getting divorced?”
I took a deep breath. “We might. But no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.”
He nodded. “As long as you’re happy, Mom.”
Tears pricked my eyes. As I watched the moonlit waves, I knew one thing for sure: the future was uncertain, but it was mine to shape. And for the first time in years, I was ready.
