Chapter 1: The Man Who Called It a Vacation
My husband booked himself a business-class seat and sent me to economy with our triplets — 10 minutes after takeoff, he came rushing back, white as a sheet, and hissed, "How could you do this to me?"
After our triplets were born, I barely slept.
Meanwhile, my husband, Eric, had somehow decided he was the exhausted one.
"The crying is getting to me," he would always complain.
"We need a vacation.
Somewhere by the ocean."
By "we," apparently, he meant himself.
Eric rarely changed diapers and had never handled all three babies alone for more than twenty minutes.
Still, I agreed.
I had savings from before our marriage.
Eric promised he would pay every dollar back after his annual bonus.
But the trip kept getting more expensive.
Flights.
Resort.
Airport transfers.
Every time I questioned another charge, Eric shrugged.
"Vacations cost money, Diane.
Stop stressing over every penny."
By the time we finally reached the airport, I was already exhausted.
But I didn't realize something was wrong until we were about to board and I glanced down at our tickets.
My seat was in ECONOMY.
So were all three of the babies' seats.
Then I checked Eric's boarding pass…
Business class.
For a few seconds, I just stood there staring at it, convinced there had to be some kind of mistake.
"There's been a mistake," I said.
Eric took the ticket from my hand, looked at it, and smirked.
"No mistake."
My stomach dropped.
"You're sitting up front while I handle three toddlers alone?"
"I need an actual vacation," he said.
"You're their mother.
They're your responsibility."
I thought I had misheard him.
Then he leaned closer.
"And don't start when we get to the resort.
I upgraded myself to the oceanfront suite.
You and the kids have a standard room.
I'm not paying for them to destroy expensive furniture."
"Eric…
I'm paying for this trip."
He rolled his eyes.
"And I could have gone without you."
Then he turned, walked through the business-class curtain, and disappeared.
There wasn't a single empty seat near me.
One baby started crying before we even left the gate.
Another threw her pacifier under the seat.
The third grabbed my hair while I struggled with three bags, bottles, blankets, and shaking hands.
Then, as I opened our reservation on my phone, I noticed something.
A tiny detail beneath Eric's luxury hotel booking and return flight.
Something he clearly hadn't noticed when he used my money to arrange his "vacation."
I read it twice.
And for the first time all morning, I smiled.
Ten minutes after takeoff, the curtain suddenly flew open.
Eric stumbled into economy, his face completely drained of color.
He stopped beside my row and gripped the seat.
"Diane," he whispered.
"How could you do this to me?
Stop it!"
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What did Diane find in that reservation that made her smile — and sent Eric running back in a panic?
Comment **"NEXT"** if you want Part 2.
