I trudged through the front door at 8:30 p.m., my feet aching after a grueling twelve-hour shift at the hospital. The noise hit me like a wall: cartoons blaring from the TV, and Emma and Noah shrieking as they chased each other around the living room.

There was James, sprawled on the couch like a beached whale, beer in hand, scrolling through his phone.

"Hey, hon," he called out, not even bothering to glance up. "Tough day?"

I bit back a sharp retort. "You could say that. The ER was chaotic." I glanced at the mess of toys and snack wrappers surrounding him. "Did you feed the kids?"

James shrugged. "They had some chips earlier. I figured you'd want to cook when you got home."

I closed my eyes, counting to ten. This had become our routine. I'd come home from saving lives, only to find a chaotic house and a husband who couldn't be bothered to lift a finger.

"Mommy!" Emma attached herself to my leg, her blonde pigtails askew. "I'm hungry!"

I forced a smile. "Okay, sweetie. Let's get you both some proper food."

As I reheated leftovers, my mind wandered to our upcoming beach vacation. Maybe a change of scenery would help us reconnect, remind James of what we once had.

"So, have you packed for the trip?" I asked, setting plates in front of the kids.

James grunted. "Nah, I'll throw some stuff in a bag tomorrow. No big deal."

I sighed. "We leave in two days, James. A little planning wouldn’t hurt."

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, it’ll be fine. You worry too much."

The night before our flight, I woke up to the sound of retching. Noah was hunched over the toilet, his face pale and clammy. Within an hour, Emma was sick too.

I gently broke the news to James over breakfast. "We need to postpone the trip. The kids have a stomach bug."

He froze, fork halfway to his mouth. "What? No way. I've been looking forward to this for months!"

"I know, but they're too sick to travel. We can reschedule."

James’s jaw clenched. "I’m still going."

I stared at him, sure I'd misheard. "What?"

"You heard me. I need this break, Lily. Work’s been crazy lately."

"And my job isn’t?" I snapped. "I’m a nurse, James. I deal with real emergencies every day."

He scoffed. "It’s not a competition. Look, you stay with the kids. I’ll go enjoy the beach for both of us."

I watched in disbelief as he packed his suitcase, ignoring Emma and Noah’s disappointed faces. As the front door slammed behind him, something inside me snapped.

The next week was hell. I juggled caring for two sick children, all while seething with rage every time James sent a smug beach selfie.

On Friday, my phone buzzed with another photo: James grinning over a fancy cocktail, captioned "Living the dream!"

That was it. I had had enough, and I had a plan.

I marched into the garage, surveying James’s precious "man cave." His fishing gear, the boat he barely used, and piles of expensive junk he’d accumulated over the years. A plan formed in my mind.

I spent the next few hours photographing everything and listing it on the local buy-and-sell site. Within days, James's prized possessions were gone, replaced by a fat wad of cash in my purse.

"Guess what, kids?" I announced over breakfast. "We’re going on our own special vacation!"

Their eyes lit up. Noah pumped his fist. "Awesome! Where are we going?"

I grinned. "It’s a surprise. But I promise, it’ll be even better than Dad’s boring old beach."

We arrived at the resort a few days later, the kids bouncing with excitement. As I watched them splash in the pool, I felt lighter than I had in years.

"Mom, watch this!" Noah called, attempting a cannonball. I cheered and then turned to help Emma with her water wings.

"You’re a natural with them," a voice behind me said. I turned to see a woman about my age smiling. "Single mom?"

I hesitated. "It’s… complicated."

She nodded knowingly. "I’ve been there. I’m Claire, by the way."

We chatted as the kids played, swapping stories about work and parenthood. It felt good to connect with someone who understood.

"So, what's your story?" Claire asked, sipping her lemonade.

I sighed. "My husband decided to go on our family vacation without us when the kids got sick. Left me to deal with everything while he partied on the beach."

Claire's eyes widened. "Seriously? What a jerk!"

I nodded. "Yeah, it was the last straw. I’ve been dealing with his selfishness for years, but this — I couldn’t take it anymore."

"So, what did you do?" she asked.

A mischievous smile crept across my face. "I sold all his precious toys and used the money to bring the kids here."

Claire burst out laughing. "Oh my God, that’s brilliant! How’d he take it?"

"He doesn’t know yet," I admitted. "But I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough."

As if on cue, my phone started buzzing. James’s name flashed on the screen.

"Speaking of the devil," I muttered. "I should probably take this."

Claire gave me an encouraging nod. "Go get ’em, tiger."

I stepped away from the pool, taking a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Where the hell is all my stuff?" James shouted, not even bothering with a greeting.

I leaned against a palm tree, surprisingly calm. "Oh, you noticed? I thought you’d be too busy 'living the dream' to care."

"Don’t play games, Lily. What did you do?"

"I sold it," I said simply. "All of it. Your fishing rods, that boat you never use, everything."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, "You what? How could you!"

"How could I?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "How could you abandon your sick children for a beach vacation? How could you ignore everything I do for this family?"

"That’s different! I work hard to provide for you."

"And I don’t?" I shot back. "I’m done, James. Done with your selfishness, done with being taken for granted."

He sputtered, "What are you saying?"

I took a deep breath. "I’m saying I want a divorce."

The line went quiet. When James spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous. "You’ll regret this, Lily. I’ll make sure of it."

I hung up, my hands shaking. Part of me wanted to cry, to mourn the life we’d built together. But a larger part felt… free.

I walked back to the pool, where Claire was sipping on a cocktail.

"Everything okay?" she asked, concern on her face.

I nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I think it will be. I just told my husband I want a divorce."

Claire’s eyes widened. "Wow, that’s huge. How do you feel?"

"Scared," I admitted. "But also relieved? Like I can finally breathe again."

She squeezed my hand. "That’s totally normal. Trust me, it gets better."

We spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the kids, building sandcastles, and splashing in the waves. For the first time in years, I felt genuinely happy.

That night, as I tucked the kids into bed, Noah looked up at me with serious eyes. "Mom, are you and Dad getting divorced?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Why do you ask that, sweetie?"

He shrugged. "I heard you on the phone. And you seem happier here without him."

I sat on the edge of his bed, choosing my words carefully. "Your dad and I have been having problems for a while now. We’re going to try to work things out, but… yes, we might get divorced."

Noah nodded solemnly. "Okay. As long as you're happy, Mom. That's what matters."

Tears pricked my eyes as I hugged him tight. "When did you get so wise, huh?"

After the kids were asleep, I stood on the balcony, watching the moonlight dance on the waves. My phone buzzed with a text from James:

"This isn’t over. I’ll see you in court."

I took a deep breath, letting the ocean air fill my lungs. The road ahead would be tough, but I felt ready to face whatever came my way.

As I crawled into bed, I thought about the uncertain future ahead of us. It was terrifying, yes, but also exhilarating. For the first time in years, I felt like I was taking control of my life.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, I let the sound of the ocean lull me to sleep, dreaming of the fresh start waiting on the horizon.