“Sweethearts, go with the babysitter. Mommy will come get you later.”
Once they were gone, I faced Clara and Martin together.
“HOW DARE YOU?!”
“I discovered the reservation history. You booked Clara’s ticket and her package weeks ago, before you even told me about the trip.”
Martin’s face collapsed. He sat down on the edge of the bed as if his legs had given out.
“She said she’d never forgive me if I left her out,” my husband mumbled. “I couldn’t say no.”
“So you lied to me instead?”
“I only wanted what’s best for my son,” Clara snapped.
I looked at her, calm for the first time in years.
“I couldn’t say no.”
“Clara, raising three children is real work. I won’t be treated as unpaid staff on a trip I was promised as family time. I’m not asking for war. I’m asking for respect.”
Then I turned to Martin.
