I walked to the closet and pulled them out myself.
That was how Mark operated. His requests were always small enough that refusing them somehow made me look unreasonable.
So I kept saying yes.
I told myself this vacation would finally be different.
I had beach mornings planned.
A dolphin excursion for the children.
A seafood restaurant the kids would love.
A sunset boat ride for all five of us.
And even two dinners where Mark and I might finally feel like a couple again.
Looking back, I should have known better.
Years earlier, before we had children, Mark had upgraded himself to first class at the airport without telling me and left me sitting alone in economy.
When I confronted him afterward, he shrugged.
“I needed to decompress, babe. You understand.”
And I did.
I always understood.
When we landed in Florida, I stood at baggage claim watching the kids bounce with excitement and thought, This is finally it.
This was going to be the trip where we became the family I kept imagining.
Max tugged on my hand.
“Mommy, is the pool really big?”
“Huge. And there’s a slide.”
Darlene looked at me.
“Are you swimming too?”
I crouched beside her.
“Yes, sweetheart. Mommy’s swimming too.”
And I meant it.
For once, I wasn’t going to spend the entire trip sitting beside the pool counting towels, passing out snacks, and making sure everyone else was comfortable.
I wanted to get into the water too.
Mark walked up carrying a coffee.
One coffee.
For himself.
“Ready?”
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