I TOOK MY FIRST SOLO VACATION IN 5 YEARS—AND FOUND OUT WHY MY HUSBAND ALWAYS WENT WITHOUT ME
For five years, my husband took “annual recharge trips.” Solo. Peace and quiet. I stayed home, worked extra, kept life moving, believing it helped him come back happier.
Last year I asked if I could join him.
“No,” he said. “You wouldn’t like it.”
That answer lodged in my chest.
So this year, I booked my own week away. On day three, curiosity won. I logged into the old shared Google account he forgot about.
Flights. Hotels. Two names. Romantic dinners. Photos.
Not solo. Never solo.
I didn’t call him.
I called Savannah — his ex.
“I wondered when you’d find out,” she said. When they were together, he ran the same routine. Different cities, different women, same script.
That was the moment something inside me went still.
I wasn’t going to scream. I was going to end it properly.
A month later, he came home tanned and smiling.
“Best reset ever,” he said.
I pointed to the envelope on the table. Divorce papers. Bank records. A timeline of every trip.
He went white.
“You might want to sit,” I added. “Savannah’s on her way.”
“And one more thing? The house is in my name.”
He tried to talk.
“We will,” I said. “In court.”
A car door slammed outside.
“Pack,” I told him.
This time, the trip would really be solo.
