Eric’s expression hardened. “I need an actual vacation, Diane. A real one. You’re their mother; they are your responsibility. I can’t be expected to rest if I’m surrounded by sticky fingers and screaming for six hours. I need my space.”
I felt like I had been slapped. The audacity was breathtaking. Before I could even find the words to argue, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial hiss that made my skin crawl.
“And don’t even think about starting a scene at the resort,” he continued. “I upgraded myself to the oceanfront suite. You and the kids will be in a standard room in the garden wing. I’m not risking expensive suite furniture with three toddlers running wild.”
“Eric…” I whispered, my voice thick with tears of rage. “This is being paid for entirely from my account. My savings. How could you use my money to isolate me and treat me like a second-class citizen?”
He rolled his eyes, checked his watch, and grabbed his carry-on. “And I could have gone alone, Diane. Be grateful you’re even coming. See you at baggage claim.” With that, he turned and vanished through the business-class partition.
I was left standing there with three crying children and a mountain of gear. The flight was full; there were no empty seats near me, and no sympathetic flight attendants could change the cold, hard reality of the manifest. I spent the first hour of the flight in a state of pure, adrenaline-fueled survival.
One child was wailing for a bottle, another had thrown her pacifier into the dark abyss under the seats, and the third was currently using my hair as a handle to pull himself up. As I struggled to keep us all contained in the cramped space, I pulled out my phone to double-check the digital receipts.
That was when I saw it. A detail Eric had overlooked in his haste to secure his own comfort. Because the entire trip had been booked through my primary travel account and paid for with my card, I had total administrative control over every single reservation—including his.
I remembered the “Modify Reservation” button I had seen earlier. With a few taps of my finger and a grim sense of justice, I realized that Eric’s luxury wasn’t as secure as he thought. I made a few quick adjustments to the return flights and the hotel stay, clicking ‘Confirm’ just as the Wi-Fi kicked in.
Ten minutes later, the curtain between business class and economy flew open. Eric stumbled into the aisle, his face pale and his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and fury. He looked like a man who had just seen a ghost, or perhaps just his bank balance.
He marched down the narrow aisle, ignoring the glares of other passengers, and hovered over my seat. He was trembling, his composure completely shattered. “Diane!” he hissed, grabbing the headrest of my seat. “How could you do this to me? Stop it right now!”
I looked up at him, one twin on my lap and another pulling at my sleeve, and gave him the calmest smile I had managed in years. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eric. I’m just the mother, remember? I’m busy with my responsibilities. You should go back to your suite… if you can still get in.”