Lisa worked tirelessly to afford a dream trip to Maui, only for her husband, Wade, to give her ticket to his mommy instead. Stunned but seething, Lisa starts planning the ultimate payback — one that will ensure his vacation is unforgettable for all the wrong reasons.
I stared at the Maui resort website, my cursor hovering over the “Book Now” button like it was the detonator to a happiness bomb.
A woman staring thoughtfully at her laptop screen | Source: Midjourney
The photos showed pristine beaches, infinity pools, and those little umbrellas in coconut drinks that screamed “vacation.”
After a year of endless work and juggling the kids’ schedules with the precision of a circus performer, I needed this break like a caffeine addict needs their morning coffee.
I let out a sigh of relief as I clicked the button. The confirmation page popped up with a cheerful ding, and I let loose with a little victorious air punch. I was finally getting my dream vacation!
A happy woman looking at a laptop screen | Source: Midjourney
Wade and I had agreed to split the cost fifty-fifty. I’d convinced him we needed a real vacation in January and had been working hard to make it happen all year.
I’d planned everything down to the minute: beachfront resort, sunset sail, snorkeling with sea turtles. I even scheduled in “spontaneous” relaxation time, because that’s the kind of control freak I’d become.
The kids were thrilled about staying with my sister, Jane, for the week we’d be away.
Happy siblings on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” my 13-year-old Emma had said, “Aunt Jane said she’ll give us ice cream for breakfast!”
I pretended to be scandalized, but honestly, Jane could feed them moon rocks for all I cared. This vacation was my light at the end of a very long, very dark, very exhausting tunnel.
One week before our flight, all my dreams of relaxing on the beach came crashing down around me.
A woman with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney
Wade’s mom was coming for dinner, so I was in the kitchen dishing up her special lasagna. She’d given me the recipe a year ago with great fanfare, like she was conveying a great honor. It was just regular lasagna with extra garlic and oregano.
I heard the front door open, and my mother-in-law’s distinctive perfume arrived about three seconds before she did.
“Something smells wonderful!” Carol’s voice carried through the house like a foghorn of impending doom.
A woman striding down a home corridor | Source: Midjourney
She swept into the kitchen, designer purse swinging from her arm like a weapon. She scanned the kitchen, frowned, and then leaned out into the hall.
“Wade, honey, your wife is plating dinner already. Why aren’t you here to welcome me?”
I bit my tongue so hard that I probably needed stitches.
“Sorry, Mom, I was packing a few things. We’ve got some exciting news,” Wade announced as he bounded into the room like an overeager golden retriever. “We booked a trip to Maui!”
Carol’s face lit up like a Christmas tree on steroids.
A mature woman grinning in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, sweetie! You’re so wonderful for planning such a lovely vacation.” She turned to me with a dismissive glance that could have frozen Hawaii itself. “You’re lucky to have my Wade. He’s always been such a caring soul.”
“Actually,” I started to say, “I was the one who—”
“You know,” Carol interrupted, sinking into a kitchen chair with a dramatic sigh worthy of a soap opera, “I’ve been so exhausted lately. Retirement isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. All those bridge club meetings, and my garden needs so much attention…”
A mature woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
I turned away so Carol wouldn’t see me roll my eyes. She’d never once offered to watch the kids during their various illnesses, school events, or even that time I had the flu and was hallucinating that the kitchen sponge was giving me financial advice.
But somehow her life was always so hard… yeah, right. Carol was just one of those people who thought having life problems was a competitive sport.
I suppressed a sigh as we all sat down to eat.
A plate of lasagna on a table | Source: Pexels
Carol droned on about how exhausted she was and how much she wished she could also enjoy a “fancy getaway.”
I just nodded occasionally and tried not to groan, but Wade was drinking it all up.
Toward the end of dinner, Wade cleared his throat and turned to me.
“Hey, honey, I was thinking…”
He had that look again, the one that meant I should probably start looking up countries with no extradition treaties.
“Why don’t you let Mom take your ticket?”
A man speaking to someone during dinner | Source: Midjourney
I nearly choked on my garlic bread.
“Wade,” I said carefully, my voice shaking with the restraint of a saint, “I worked my butt off all year to save for this trip. I’m exhausted. I need this break more than I need oxygen right now.”
He shrugged, like I was complaining about the weather instead of the grand theft of my sanity vacation.
“A lot of women work these days,” he said. “It’s your choice. But you heard my mom… she could really use a break. Don’t make this a big deal.”
A man speaking during dinner at home | Source: Midjourney
“I worked my whole life for my son and never complained,” Carol chimed in, dabbing at nonexistent tears with her perfectly manicured fingers.
I looked at Wade, really looked at him, and something inside me snapped like a rubber band that had been stretched way too far. Six years of marriage crystallized into perfect clarity.
This wasn’t about the vacation. This was about every birthday dinner he’d insisted we spend with his mother, every decision that somehow always ended with Carol getting her way, and how she still called Wade her “precious baby boy” even though he was in his 30s.
Close up of a woman staring ahead with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
I forced my lips into a smile. “Sure, Wade. Take your mom. I’ll figure something else out.”
They both beamed, thinking they’d won. But I was already planning my revenge, and it was going to be more satisfying than all the spa treatments in Hawaii combined.
Over the next few days, I became very busy with my laptop, cackling like a witch over her cauldron.
The five-star resort? Downgraded to a budget hotel miles from the beach, with one queen bed and a mysterious stain on the carpet that the reviews said might be sentient.
A woman cackling while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney
The sunset sail and snorkeling? Canceled faster than a bad Netflix series. Instead, I booked them fascinating activities like “The History of Pineapple Farming: A Four-Hour Lecture Series” and “Traditional Hat Weaving: A Five-Hour Workshop with Bonus Meditation.”
Their first-class flights became economy middle seats, separated by three rows, right next to the bathrooms.
But that wasn’t all I had planned.
A woman smirking while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney
I also found a lawyer and filed for divorce.
By the time Wade left for the airport, I was ready to move forward with the next stage. I packed his things into suitcases and lined them up in the hallway like soldiers of liberation. The note I left took only minutes to write, but I’d been composing it in my head for days.
Dear Wade,
In these suitcases, you’ll find all your belongings — well, at least the ones worth keeping. I need a break, not just from our “marriage,” but from your mom’s constant meddling and your eternal cluelessness.
Feel free to unpack at her place. I’m sure she’ll love having her little boy back full-time.
Best wishes,
Your ex-wife
Suitcases in an entrance hall | Source: Pexels
Then I treated myself to some online shopping: one ticket for a luxury Mediterranean cruise. The refunds from all those canceled Maui activities more than covered it.
I was folding clothes into my suitcase, practicing my “lounging on deck” pose, when my phone exploded with Wade’s ringtone.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” His voice cracked with fury. “It’s so selfish! This hotel is a dump, and the flight was a nightmare!”
A smug woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I thought you’d love it! A nice quiet room, some quality mother-son bonding over hat weaving… But wait until you see the surprise I arranged for when you get back.”
“What surprise? Lisa? LISA!”
I hung up, smiling like the cat who not only got the cream but also started a successful dairy company. The divorce papers were scheduled for delivery to Carol’s house the day they returned.
By then, I’d be somewhere off the Italian coast, eating authentic pasta and sipping champagne.
A cruise ship close to land | Source: Pexels
A few months have passed since all of this happened. The divorce was finalized smoothly and these days, I’m happily single and planning my next adventure to Disney World with the kids.
Wade is still living with his mommy, and from the sounds of things, has no plans to move out anytime soon. The kids visit him every second weekend, and I make sure to smile and wave whenever I see Carol.
Once, I even got to ask if she enjoyed her hat-weaving workshop.
A woman standing beside her car waving her hand | Source: Midjourney
Sometimes the best vacations are the ones you take by yourself — especially when they lead you exactly where you need to be.
And sometimes, the sweetest revenge isn’t served cold: it’s a pineapple farming lecture with a side of hat weaving.
My Wedding Planner Said I Canceled My Own Wedding but I Didn’t – The Truth Left Me Speechless
Chelsea is all set to marry Rasmus, the man of her dreams. But when the wedding day arrives and no guests show up, Chelsea has to figure out who canceled her wedding and whether her groom is right for her or not.
I’ve always wanted that ‘Happily Ever After’ kind of romantic life. So, when I met Rasmus, I thought I had finally gotten it. But as my wedding day began to unravel, it seemed I had gotten the nightmare version instead.
Rasmus and I met at a bakery. It was a sweet little meet-cute situation — where I was convinced he was the perfect person for me. We exchanged numbers over rye bread.
“I’ll be seeing you around, Chelsea,” he said, holding onto a loaf of artisanal bread.
He called me just as he left the bakery, wanting us to have dinner that night.
Two short years later, we were waking up to our wedding day.
That morning, I showered early, eagerly awaiting my hair and makeup appointments. I remember sitting at the edge of the hotel bed, looking at my dress and holding my breath.
I couldn’t wait to marry Rasmus. I couldn’t wait to begin our lives together.
So, the day went on — my maid of honor, my sister Jess, was with me, and we continued to get ready.
“Where’s Mom?” Jess asked. “Shouldn’t she be getting dressed with us?”
“No, we decided it would be best for her and Dad to meet us at the venue. You know she doesn’t get along with Rasmus.”
Jess shook her head.
“You’d think that Mom would have sorted out her feelings by now.”
It was true, my parents loved me — but they just couldn’t see Rasmus and me together.
“There’s just something off about him,” my father would say. “But we respect your wishes to marry him.”
Closer to the time, Jess called for the hotel car, and we made our way to the wedding venue.
“Where is everyone?” Jess asked, echoing my thoughts.
It was an entire wedding venue with literally not a soul in sight. There was no welcome sign for the guests, no welcome drinks, no décor, no staff, and absolutely no guests.
Not even Rasmus.
“Get Brenda on the phone,” I said, talking about my wedding planner.
I was beginning to panic. I was all dressed and ready to go. It was supposed to be my special day.
“Brenda, where is everyone?” I asked when Jess handed me the phone.
“What do you mean?” Brenda’s calm voice came through the speaker.
“I’m at my wedding venue, and there’s nobody here!” I exclaimed, the panic evident in my voice.
“Chelsea, honey,” Brenda said. “The wedding was canceled. The directive came through your email address just three days ago.”
My heart almost stopped beating.
How could I have canceled my own wedding? I went through my emails, and sure enough, there it was.
Dear Brenda,
Due to unforeseen circumstances, the wedding is off. Please notify all the guests and the vendors.
But it made no sense. It was from my corporate account — an account that my family had access to because we all worked at the family business together.
My mind raced — did Mom and Dad? Could they really…? No, they couldn’t have.
They always said that it was my life and my choices. Even if they didn’t approve of Rasmus, they wouldn’t hurt me like this.
I needed to hear it from them.
But my parents were just as shocked as I was.
“We were on a flight, honey,” my father said. “I had a business meeting, and your mother tagged along with me. We had nothing to do with it. We did get the cancellation from Brenda and just wanted to give you your space.”
“I didn’t see any email,” Jess said. “But you know how bad I am at checking my mail.”
That’s when it hit me — the only other person who would have access to my email accounts, work and personal, was Rasmus.
The same man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the other end of the aisle.
I asked Jess to take me home, ready for answers. I needed to know what was happening and how it all unfolded without my knowledge.
I walked into our little apartment, and there he was. Rasmus, sitting on the couch eating a bowl of cereal. He had no intention of leaving the house because he was in his sweatpants, wearing glasses, and his hair was wavy.
His usual armor of being well-dressed, contacts in, and hair swept into his signature hairstyle was all missing.
“You canceled our wedding?” I asked before he could say anything.
Rasmus didn’t even try to hide it. He had canceled the wedding because, three days ago, he realized that as much as he loved me, he wasn’t ready for marriage.
So, he panicked.
“I didn’t have the courage to tell you,” he said. “I figured that you’d think the wedding was on, and then when the slip-up happened, you would want to investigate it. I thought it would take the heat off me.”
As I stood there, my wedding day in ruins around me, I realized that my parents were right. Rasmus wasn’t the person for me. And as much as it hurt, a part of me was relieved he did it.
So, here I am, looking at my wedding dress and wondering what to do with it.
What would you have done?
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