My husband had two weeks to carry out his secret plan. Unfortunately for him, I returned after eight days. And once I heard what he expected from me, I knew exactly what he deserved.
After eight years of marriage, Erick and I seemed to argue about everything.
“Erick, you promised to pick Lily up.”
“So did I. And I still made it.”
As a corporate event planner, I’d learned to handle last-minute disasters without losing my cool, but at home, I was tired of being the only one solving problems.
Between work, our six-year-old daughter, and endless chores, I was exhausted.
Then Erick started taking calls behind closed doors.
“Nobody. I’m watching dishwasher repair videos.”
“With the door locked?”
“Can we not argue about everything?”
I was too tired to push.
***
A week later, he handed me an envelope.
“Two weeks at the beach. Just for you.”
I stared at the tickets. “Erick, what about Lily?”
“Your mom will help. I’ve arranged everything.”
“You’ve been exhausted for months, honey. You deserve a break.”
I hugged him, feeling guilty for suspecting anything.
And honestly? The vacation was wonderful.
Until day eight.
“Sarah, we have a serious problem,” my boss said over the phone. “I need you back.”
“Can’t someone else handle it?”
I changed my flight and headed home without telling Erick.
I figured I’d surprise him and Lily.
But when I opened our front door, I nearly fell backward.
Our living room looked like somebody else’s house.
The couch had moved. Strange photographs covered the walls.
My grandmother’s antique lamp was gone. And beside the staircase stood six cardboard boxes.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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