Lacey set down the tray.

“All of it?” she asked. “You think I should handle everything?”

He didn’t answer.

“Well, here’s what you didn’t know,” she said. “I’ve been working remotely as a designer for multiple international tech companies. Quietly. Because I didn’t want to stir up trouble.”

She reached into her pocket and handed him an envelope.

“Your birthday gift. A luxury trip for two to the Maldives. All paid for.”

Aidan opened and stared at the voucher, speechless.

“But now I think I’ll enjoy it more alone. While I’m away, you’ll have time to read the divorce papers I’ve filed.”

Gasps filled the room. No one stopped her. She left, closing the door gently behind her.

That night, she sat in a nearby café, calm and clear-headed. She later returned home, packed a bag, and told Aidan she was going to her parents.

“You ruined my birthday,” he said, sulking. “Are you really not taking me?”

“No, Aidan,” she replied. “You did that. And no—I’m going alone. And I’m going to keep working.”

He didn’t follow her.

Two days later, she flew to the Maldives solo. She came back tan, freckled, and without regret. Her father handed her the finalized divorce papers the next morning.

Word spread quickly. Even Aidan’s mother scolded him for how he’d treated Lacey. Apparently, after she left, Aidan ran out to find her—but didn’t know which way to go.

That seemed fitting.

Looking back, she feels no anger. Only clarity. She grieves the man she thought Aidan was—but honors the woman she became when she chose to leave.

And she’s thankful, deeply so, that they never had children. Because raising a child is hard enough. You shouldn’t have to raise your husband, too.