I walked up, puzzled.
“Why didn’t you let me know?” I asked. Richard didn’t even make eye contact. “We figured you’d find us,” he said flatly.
Susan sipped her coffee.
“It’s just how we do things.”
I looked at Mark. He was eating like everything was normal. That’s when it truly hit me—I wasn’t part of their family.
And maybe I never had been.
And Mark? He wasn’t on my side. The rest of the trip followed the same pattern.
At every meal, I sat alone.
Every outing, I was left behind. They took a private boat cruise—I found out from their Instagram posts. They went to a wine tasting—I saw them walking out in fancy clothes while I was heading to the lobby.
Later, I confronted Mark.
“You could’ve texted me,” I said, trying not to lose my temper.
He let out another tired sigh, like I was the problem.
“It’s just their way,” he said again. That was always his excuse. By day four, I stopped trying.
I stopped chasing.
They wanted me out of the picture? Fine.
But they didn’t know what I was planning. I had my own way, too.
That night, while they were out drinking and bonding on their perfect vacation, I returned to the hotel room with a quiet purpose.
I wasn’t just sitting at a different table anymore. I was about to leave the entire setting behind. And they would feel it.
