Lauren had always assumed that her husband disliked traveling, but this year, his conduct perplexed her more than ever. When a family trip culminated years of stress, Lauren resolved to uncover the truth, only to uncover more than she had ever anticipated.

I reclined on the couch, perusing photographs from our family vacation last year, which consisted of my parents, my siblings, and me. None of the pictures featured my boys. Mike constantly demanded that they stay at home with him.

Ethan climbed onto my lap and looked at the photographs. “Mom, may we visit the beach this summer? Please?”

“Yeah!” Ben stated, looking up from his Lego creation on the floor. It resembles a genuine beach, not just the lake. Uncle Tim informed me that Hawaii had black sand!”

I grinned as I kissed Ethan’s hair. “We’ll see.”

Planning a vacation was always bittersweet. The sun, the experience, and the memories I shared with my parents and siblings were all enjoyable. However, I have been tormented by the thought of leaving Mike and the boys behind for the past 17 years.

“Why don’t we ever go, Mom?” Ben questioned, his voice cautious. “Dad says vacations are just for grown-ups.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered gently, my chest squeezing.

“But he always says no when we ask,” Ethan explained.

“He just…” I paused, unable to find the appropriate words. Dad is not a huge admirer of traveling.” But we’ll work it out.

Mike didn’t simply despise traveling; he deliberately avoided it. He would dismiss any mention of a family trip with a vague pretext.

“It’s too expensive.”

“You don’t have to take the guys.” They’re too young to remember it anyway.”

“It’s better if they stay here with me.”

I eventually stopped asking. Arguing over it never got us anywhere.

A few weeks later, my mother’s tone was a mixture of joy and uncertainty when she contacted me by phone.

“Lauren, I have been thinking…” I’d want to take the entire family to the Virgin Islands this summer. I want to embark on one last extensive journey while I still have the opportunity. “The kids should come too.”

The Virgin Islands. It was her favorite location in the world. She and Dad had gone there every other year until his death. I understood the trip wasn’t simply a vacation for her; it was a chance to make memories with her grandkids while she was still able.

“Mom, that sounds perfect,” I responded. “I’ll talk to Mike.”

“Don’t let him stop you,” she advised softly. “The boys deserve this, and so do you.”

I mentioned it that evening when Mike and I were cleaning up after supper.

“Mom wants us to go to the Virgin Islands this summer,” I told her.

He did not glance up from the dish he was drying. “That’s far.”

“This is her favorite location. She’s been discussing taking the boys there for years. This might be her only chance to leave with them.”

He exhaled. “So, who is responsible for managing the situation when the boys become bored or fatigued?”

“They’re old enough to handle a vacation, Mike,” I stated firmly. “They will adore it.” They’ve been asking to go somewhere new for years.”

“Then take them.”

I squinted, uncertain whether I had heard him correctly. “You’re okay with me taking the boys?”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I’ll think about going myself.”

I held onto a sliver of optimism for a week. Maybe Mike will surprise me and decide to join us. However, when I mentioned the flights, he completely shut down.

“I didn’t realize you’d have to fly,” he said, his voice tense.

“Mike, this is the Virgin Islands.” Of course, we need to fly.

“I’m not comfortable with that,” he murmured, holding the counter’s edge.

“It’s one flight,” I said, frustrated. “You’ll be fine.”

“I said no, Lauren,” he replied sharply, moving away.

This time, I wouldn’t let him hold us back. I reserved the tickets for myself and the lads.

They couldn’t believe what I told them. “We’re really going?” Ben inquired, his eyes wide.

“Really?” Ethan shrieked and bounced on the couch.

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “We’re really going.”

The guys had never flown before and were full of questions. “How high are we going?” Ben inquired. “Do the pilots ever lose their way?” Ethan wanted to know. I responded as best I could, and their joy made me chuckle.

Upon our arrival in the Virgin Islands, the boys ran along the beach, their laughter echoing through the sea air. My mother held me tightly.

“I’m so glad you brought them,” she remarked, her voice full of emotion.

“I am, too,” I said, watching the guys chase each other around the beach.

We spent the days building sandcastles, snorkeling, and enjoying family feasts filled with stories and laughter. But at night, while the boys were asleep, I was unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss.

Mike’s calls were brief, and his tone was distracting.

“Is everything okay at home?” I inquired one evening.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just busy.”

“Busy with what?” “Work. Stuff.”

His abrupt responses made my stomach churn. I gazed out at the starry ocean after we parted ways, feeling the weight of our increasing distance as it pressed down on me.

I made my decision while the boys were asleep. As I stood on the balcony of our rental, the sound of waves crashing below me, I made a phone call to my mother.

Peering into the black ocean, I remarked, “I believe I should return home earlier.”

Mom was silent for a minute. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I acknowledged. “Mike has been acting… strangely. Distant. The phone calls don’t help.

“You’ve done the right thing by bringing the boys,” she replied gently. “They are enjoying the time of their lives. You can rely on me to monitor their activities. Proceed with your tasks.

As I flew home, my thoughts raced. The heated discussions, harsh gazes, and excuses he had employed to circumvent trips over the years were all replayed. I contemplated our quiet, the kind that made you wonder if it was worth fighting for.

Did I miss something? Was there a deeper motive for his actions? Or had we perhaps simply grown too distant?

My chest constricted when the plane landed. I was unable to overcome the anxiety that I would be confronted with a situation for which I was ill-equipped.

I came through the front door and froze.

Mike sat on the couch with a woman I didn’t recognize. She looked up, surprised, but didn’t say anything.

“What’s going on?” I inquired, my tone rougher than I intended.

Mike stood up, his face pale. “Lauren, this isn’t —”

I held out my hand. “Don’t.” Just don’t.” My chest heaved, and my hands shook. “I leave for a week, and this is what I come home to?”

“It’s not what you think!” he exclaimed, approaching me.

“Then what is it?” I fired back. “It appears that you’ve been enjoying yourself immensely during my absence.”

The woman stood. “I think I should go,” she whispered gently.

“No,” Mike said forcefully. “Stay. Lauren, this is Dr. Keller. “She is my therapist.”

I blinked, absolutely thrown. “Your… therapist?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I know the situation looks bad, but please, let me explain.”

I crossed my arms, my heart still racing. “Start talking.”

Mike ran his fingers through his hair, his voice husky. “I have been seeing Dr. Keller for a few months now. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure how to.”. I felt humiliated.

“Embarrassed about what?” I inquired, rage giving way to perplexity.

He exhaled. “Lauren, I am frightened of flying. I have been afraid of flying since I was a child. I experienced a panic attack at the airport the first time my parents transported me on a plane. They just urged me to to’suck it up’ and quit being theatrical. I was seven years old, and I’ll never forget how that felt. I was concerned that the boys might become anxious if you took them on an aircraft at such a young age.

I looked at him, shocked.

“I’ve been hiding it from you,” he said. “Every time you mentioned a trip that included flying, I was terrified. But rather than acknowledging it, I simply battled with you. It was easier to fabricate excuses than to face our fears.”

Dr. Keller spoke up. “Mike asked me to come here today because he’s been working on overcoming his phobia.” He desired to demonstrate the extent of his progress and to share it with you.

I looked at him. “Why now?”

He explained, his voice cracking, “I’m tired of missing out, Lauren.” “I detest that you and your family go on these fantastic excursions without me. I regret not being able to participate because I was too afraid. I despise the impact it had on us.”

I felt a knot in my throat as I sat down. “You should’ve told me,” I remarked quietly.

“I know,” he said. “I just… didn’t want you to think I was weak.”

I shake my head. “Mike, your behavior does not make you weak.” “It makes you human.”

We sat quietly for a time before I reached for his hand.

“What happens now?” I inquired.

“I keep going to therapy,” he explained. “And I am currently working on it.” Therefore, it is feasible that I will be aboard the aircraft with you and the others next summer.

My heart softened. “We’ll do it together,” I said.

The following morning, we sat at the kitchen table, a map in our hands, and deliberated on our destinations. For the first time in years, we were planning rather than bickering. It seemed like a new beginning.