I Was Worth Less Than An Economy Seat To Him

“Eve, this is far enough. I didn’t get you a ticket, you should head back.” My husband, Nolan Bell, spoke the words at the airport check-in counter, his voice light and airy, as if commenting on the weather. The excitement I’d been holding onto all morning froze on my face. I looked up, stunned. “What do you mean?” “The whole family is going to Maui for seven days. We can’t leave the house completely empty, so I just didn’t buy you a ticket.” He offered a small, easy smile. “Besides, this is a vacation for those of us who worked hard all year to rest. You’re already home all day. You rest every day, so what’s the big deal?” The entire family—my in-laws, my brother-in-law Jared, and our son, Mike—all stood by, silently checking their phones, avoiding my gaze. I stared at Nolan, who looked utterly convinced of his own logic. Seven years. For him, I gave up my career and became a full-time homemaker for seven years. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, with no sick days, no paid time off. And now I knew: he had never once valued my effort. “Fine,” I nodded slowly. “I’ll go home and watch the house.” Nolan seemed momentarily startled, as if he expected a larger fight. Before they headed through the gate, I looked at the six of them, letting the silence stretch. “Are you absolutely sure this is the arrangement you want?”

1 I picked up the suitcase I had packed with so much hope last night and turned to leave. The gate agent was calling for boarding, and every gentle announcement of, “Have a pleasant trip,” felt like a dull knife twisting in my chest. Nolan rushed after me, pulling me aside into a quiet corner. “Babe, listen to me. This trip for the whole family has stretched the budget already. I had to cut out some unnecessary expenses.” I stopped walking. “Unnecessary?” Nolan shrugged, reasonable and self-righteous. “Yes. We agreed this was a trip to Maui for everyone who worked hard this year. You don’t have an office job, you’re home all the time. Haven’t you rested enough?” I stared at him, disbelief curdling into cold anger. “What do you think rest is?” “Sleeping until noon is rest. Waking up at five a.m. to make breakfast for six people is not rest!” “Lying on the sofa scrolling through your phone is rest. Scrubbing the sink, mopping the floors, driving Mike to school, and doing your brother’s laundry—that is not rest!” My voice was low but shaking. “Nolan, we’ve been married for seven years. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Tell me one day that I’ve truly rested!” I pulled my arm out of his grasp. “Go. All of you. Have fun. Don’t worry about me.” Nolan opened his mouth, prepared to argue further. But then his mother’s voice chirped from the gate: “Nolan, hurry up! What are you standing there for? It’s boarding time!” Jared waved his passport. “Forget about her, bro.” He tossed his head toward me. “You know how dramatic she gets. Grab her a cheap souvenir when we get back.” Six-year-old Mike ran over and tugged on Nolan’s shirt. “Dad, let’s go! We don’t need Mom! I want to see the ocean!” My knuckles were white as I gripped the handle of my suitcase. I looked at Nolan one last time, managing a smile. “Didn’t you hear them? Go on.” Nolan’s eyes flickered, but he stopped trying to talk. “Take good care of the house. I’ll bring you a trinket.” He released my arm, turned his back, and walked swiftly toward the people he considered to have “worked hard all year.” I stood there, watching the six of them disappear into the tunnel. I gave a small, self-mocking laugh. I knew right then I couldn’t wake up a man who was only pretending to be asleep. But it didn’t matter. By the time he returned, my divorce papers would be ready.

2 As the taxi sped away from the airport, I pulled out my phone and found the family group chat was buzzing. Nolan’s mother—Mrs. Bell—had posted a selfie, complete with a filter that made her look twenty years younger. [Look, everyone! See how wonderful my son, Nolan, is? He worked so hard to take the whole family on a spectacular trip to Maui for the holidays!] [And look at this plane! First class seats for the parents, too! So thoughtful!] The comments from aunts and uncles came pouring in instantly. [Oh, Clara, you’re so lucky! Such a good son and daughter-in-law!] [Is that Jared? Wow, he’s so tall now. Didn’t he just graduate?] Jared, wearing the expensive noise-canceling headphones I’d gifted him last birthday, flashed a peace sign at the camera. [Aunt Tracy, my brother gave me three thousand dollars in spending money for this trip. I’ll bring you back something nice!] Three thousand dollars? I checked the booking app on my own phone. A round-trip economy ticket from our city to Maui was currently on sale for just $150. $150. That’s what he considered an “unnecessary expense” and a “too large” cost to carry. The memory of Nolan’s words at the airport—too expensive, cut back, already resting—mixed with the cold, hard reality of the ticket price. A sense of profound, unprecedented sorrow swept over me, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I had been married to Nolan for seven years. He told me his parents needed care, and that he was too busy building his career to handle things at home. I gave up my burgeoning career. For seven years, I ensured this six-person home always had a hot breakfast at 5 a.m. Laundry thrown on the floor was magically folded in the dresser drawers the next morning. The trash was never full; the sheets were changed every Monday. My in-laws’ doctor’s appointments, Mike’s sick days, Jared’s long breaks from college—Nolan never had to lift a finger. He only needed to wake up, exchange pleasantries with his parents and son, go to work, and the day was done. I looked at the thick layer of calluses covering my palms from years of scrubbing and labor. My heart felt hollow. I couldn’t stop myself. I screenshotted the ticket price and posted it to the family group chat. [To everyone thinking of getting married or becoming a homemaker: Don’t. Your worth might not even amount to one hundred and fifty dollars.] The vibrant chat went silent. I could practically hear the collective gasp. After a long pause, my Aunt Tracy tentatively tagged Nolan. [Nolan, what is going on? Your entire family is traveling without Eve?]

3 Mrs. Bell’s voice messages quickly flooded the group. “Oh, the cruelty! It’s not that we didn’t want to take Eve. Nolan thought we all needed a break after a year of hard work, but Eve was at home all day long and is plenty rested. That’s why we only bought tickets for those who needed a rest!” She started sobbing dramatically into the phone. “If I had known Eve was going to be this petty about a simple plane ticket, your father and I would have stayed home. I can’t believe my own daughter-in-law is breaking my heart in front of the whole family…” Jared snatched the phone from his mother. “Exactly! If she wanted to come so badly, she could have just bought a ticket! It’s not like my brother wouldn’t have given her the money.” “She’s just trying to stir up drama and humiliate my mom. What kind of person does that?” The money he was referring to—was it the $800 monthly allowance Nolan gave me for household expenses? The money he was referring to—was it the $800 monthly allowance Nolan gave me for household expenses? The entire family of six lived in the house Nolan and I bought together, a decent 1,200 square feet. That $800 had to cover the 300 mortgage payment, utilities, food for six adults and a growing child, plus even Jared’s occasional college expenses. It never stretched far enough, but Nolan always ignored me when I brought it up. Whenever I mentioned the budget was tight, he would look up from his phone and expertly deflect. “How can it be not enough? You don’t work, Eve. You don’t know how hard it is to earn money. You need to learn to be thrifty. Stop being so wasteful.” But my closet held the same dresses I’d worn four years ago. My pajamas were threadbare. I only bought the cheapest drugstore skincare. Even my most comfortable sneakers were a pair my own mother had bought too big for herself and passed down to me out of pity. And Nolan’s family? His father met his friends at the local bar every few days. His mother’s ballroom dance team needed a new, expensive costume every season. Jared never missed a concert or music festival. Nolan wouldn’t spend $150 on a ticket for me, but he had no problem handing Jared $3,000 for a vacation spending spree. I leaned back against the seat, doing the final tally in my head. Nolan, sensing the shift in the chat’s temperature, finally made an appearance. [Stop this now.] He was only there to shut down the topic. [Eveis clearly being unreasonable. Don’t make the whole family a spectacle. It’s the holidays.] Watching him twist reality like this made me want to scream, but I was too exhausted to even bother with a cold laugh. But the relatives, already convinced by Nolan’s smooth narrative, jumped in to “stand up for justice.” [I knew Nolan wouldn’t do something so heartless! He’s a good man. Eve, you need to look at yourself for a change.] [Seriously, I thought you were so dedicated when you were taking care of your mother-in-law in the hospital. I guess I was wrong about you.] My Aunt Sarah sent a condescending eye-roll emoji. Just last month, Mrs. Bell sprained her ankle while practicing a dance routine and had to spend two weeks in the hospital. Mr. Bell had his walking club, Nolan had work, and Jared was glued to his gaming console. So, I was the one who managed the house and cooked meals during the day, then went to the hospital to sit bedside every night. I’d rush home before dawn to make breakfast and start the cycle over. I was so exhausted I sometimes had to lean on the kitchen counter to keep from collapsing. When I begged Nolan, “Can we please hire a nurse or an aide?” He looked at me with genuine surprise, then scoffed. “Absolutely not. A hired nurse won’t care for her like you do, and why should we pay when you’re right here?” All those small, toxic moments I’d chosen to ignore came flooding back, threatening to drown me. Exhausted, hollowed out, I used the last of my resolve to book a consultation with the best divorce attorney in the city. I couldn’t live this life for one more day.

4 The following days were a blur of divorce preparation. I was busy securing a new place, tracking bank transfers, and looking into work. Nolan, meanwhile, was having a blast. Mrs. Bell shared updates from Maui eight times a day in the family chat. “The luxury suite Nolan booked for us is simply divine,” she boasted, her voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “And look at this private beach. We can go anytime we want.” Jared was shown lying on the sand playing games, still wearing the headphones I’d bought him. “Man, vacationing abroad is the best! Too bad some people just weren’t lucky enough to join us.” He was still holding a grudge about the group chat argument. “Oh, stop it, you brat,” Mrs. Bell scolded him, but the tone was more encouraging than harsh. Jared sat up and pulled Mike, who was playing in the sand, toward the camera. “Mike, tell us, do you want Mommy to be here?” Mike, holding his tiny plastic shovel, shouted into the phone, “No, not Mom! Dad said we don’t need Mom! She doesn’t work, she’d just waste money!” The video cut off abruptly. The family group chat was dead silent after that, a chilling quiet. Nolan’s cousin, Tracy, messaged me privately. “Eve, please don’t be upset. Mom and Dad saw that video. We all think Aunt and Uncle are completely out of line. We’ll talk to them when they get back.” A wave of warmth, quickly followed by a greater sense of hollowness, washed over me. See? Even outsiders knew this was unacceptable. But Nolan pretended not to notice. That evening, I was reviewing the first draft of the divorce agreement the lawyer had sent. Nolan’s text popped up. [Babe, honestly, Maui is overrated. Nothing special.] [I bought you a gift. We get back the day after tomorrow. Come pick us up at the airport, okay?] The day after tomorrow. I opened the chat with my attorney. [Can the divorce agreement be finalized by tomorrow night?] A thumbs-up emoji came back instantly. I smiled as I typed my reply to Nolan. [Can do.] Soon. Two more days until my divorce.

5 The next twenty-four hours were in fast-forward. Mrs. Bell continued posting pictures of their perfectly happy, smiling family in Maui. But the family chat grew increasingly quiet. Even when Mrs. Bell tagged a relative, they pretended not to see it. Meanwhile, I packed up the last seven years of my life. The wedding album went into the dumpster. The family portrait? Shredded. The small pieces of furniture I had painstakingly bought and collected over the years were either sold or donated. Nothing would be left for the Bells. Finally, the day of their return arrived. Nolan had texted me the day before, insisting I be there on time. They had bought so much, he said, and his parents were too old to carry it all. He needed me there to help with their luggage. Even now, he saw me as nothing more than the family’s chauffeur and porter. I was too tired to argue. I just texted Okay and promptly turned off my phone to sleep. The plane landed the next day. Nolan’s family emerged, laden with shopping bags. “Bro, where is she? Is she seriously running late?” Jared kicked his suitcase in frustration. Mrs. Bell tutted. “Eveisn’t usually this disorganized. Maybe… she’s still mad at us?” “Nolan, you need to set her straight when we get home. A woman who holds a grudge like this? Doesn’t she know how to be a wife and daughter-in-law?” “Mommy bad!” Mike, clinging to his grandmother, clapped his hands. Nolan’s face darkened. He pulled out his phone and dialed me, his voice sharp with annoyance. “Where are you? I told you to be on time to pick us up!” “I’m right here.” Nolan’s head snapped up. His eyes frantically searched the crowd and finally landed on me standing a short distance away. Unlike my usual home-life uniform, I was wearing a simple, chic linen dress and a clean, elegant makeup look. I was polished, poised, and utterly detached. Nolan’s eyes lit up. He dragged his suitcase toward me. “Babe, you look great. Did you put on makeup just for me?” He pulled a small, clam-shaped box out of his pocket. Inside was a cheap, shell necklace, the kind sold by street vendors in tourist traps. It cost less than ten dollars. “This is from Maui, just for you, babe. It cost me a fortune, but you’re worth it. Put it on. Aren’t you happy?” I barely glanced at the necklace—a cheap trinket still dusty with sand. My gaze swept over Jared’s newest gaming console, Mr. Bell’s shiny new wristwatch, and Mrs. Bell’s new, prominent gold necklace. I smiled. “Perfect. I have a gift for you, too.” Surprise exploded in Nolan’s eyes. “What is it? That’s my girl! I leave you alone for a week, and you’re still this thoughtful. I definitely married the right woman…” I pulled a file from my bag and opened it, holding it out to him. “This gift is… our divorce agreement.”