Vacation Nightmare (For Them)

"Kaley heard we were planning a seaside vacation and wants to bring Alex along. I've booked the plane tickets for everyone," Johnny Cooper said nonchalantly, "Lizzie, you can drive the car with the luggage. We'll meet you at the beach." My hands froze mid-way through packing. For a moment, I couldn't believe what I was hearing."What do you mean? Kaley and Alex get to fly while I'm stuck driving?" I asked. "Kaley's little one has never been to the beach before, and I thought it'd be nice to let them tag along. When I booked the tickets, yours was sold out," he replied casually, as if that was explanation enough. This trip had already been a logistical nightmare. It had started with my brother-in-law's incessant demands to go wake surfing during his Christmas break, coinciding with Johnny's rare annual leave. To top it off, we had just bought a new car, so it was decided to take the whole family—including my in-laws—on a seaside getaway. I had spent days painstakingly plannin

I frowned, the tension in my body translating into a sharp kick at the stool in front of me. The clatter echoed through the room, jarring everyone into silence. Johnny immediately sensed the shift in my mood and dropped his smug demeanor like a mask slipping. "I know you're upset," he said, adopting a conciliatory tone. "But what's done is done. Stop acting like a child, okay? Didn't you say you wanted to stay at a five-star hotel? Fine, we won't save money anymore. I'll book it right now." I couldn't help the cold laugh that escaped me. Did he really think he could pacify me with empty words? His tone dripped with condescension, as though he were doing me a grand favor. But I decided to play along, at least for the moment. "Really? You're so thoughtful, darling!" I replied sweetly. But just as his facade of magnanimity seemed secure, his phone buzzed with a notification. He glanced at the screen, and his expression darkened immediately. "Lizzie, why did you use my card to

After they left, I immediately changed the fingerprint lock password and erased their prints from the system. Their belongings were neatly packed, boxed up, and sent back to their hometown with postage marked "recipient to pay." Then, I contacted a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. My parents, who had been skeptical of my decision to marry in the first place, had insisted on a prenuptial agreement. At the time, I thought they were being paranoid. Now, I realized just how wise they had been. How had I not seen through the Coopers' carefully calculated schemes back then? As I mulled this over, my phone rang. It was the hotel concierge."Ma'am, based on your usual preferences, we've upgraded your reservation to the Presidential Suite at no extra charge. We look forward to your stay." "Thank you," I replied, smiling. Meanwhile, I imagined the Cooper family, probably dreaming of luxury at a five-star hotel. The truth was, I'd only booked a room for myself. At this point, there

For so many years, I had poured my heart and soul into taking care of everyone in the Cooper family. I worked myself to the bone to improve our lives—pulling endless overtime at work, only to come home and cook for the whole family. Each day, I walked a tightrope, terrified of making a mistake at work, yet equally afraid of neglecting them. The voices of my parents echoed in my mind, their past warnings cutting through the years like sharp, inevitable truths. "You'll regret this, one day," they had said. And now, as I looked around at the wreckage of my life, I knew they had been right. My blind devotion during those heady, love-struck years had led me here. But no more. From this moment forward, I would live for myself. I glanced at the clock, calculating. By now, their little seaside holiday must be wrapping up. The thought of them returning home to the "gift" I had arranged sent a ripple of excitement through me. Their faces, when they saw it—it was almost too good to imagin

Johnny was, of course, unwilling to leave the marriage empty-handed. He tried every trick to meet me—sending flowers to my office, buying me desserts. But every time I saw him, disgust churned in my stomach, threatening to rise. "Honey, I was wrong, truly wrong. Please let me come home!" he pleaded, performing the role of a repentant husband with the finesse of a seasoned actor. To the onlooking colleagues, he painted a picture of a perfect man unfairly wronged. It was as if I were the unreasonable one, bent on tearing apart our marriage without cause. He thought this façade might wear me down, and force me to reconsider. Dream on. "Where's that fake sister of yours?" I asked with a cold smile. "The one who's always by your side? If you like her so much and she's so good for your luck, why cling to me at all?" "She's just a friend—nothing more!" he stammered, his tone desperate. I chuckled, bitterness lacing the sound. "Ah, I see. A friend who shares midnight embraces wit