I was supposed to be drinking wine in Santorini with my husband, celebrating ten years of marriage. We had planned it for months — well, more like I planned it. Instead, at the last minute, he canceled our trip… to take his mother on vacation.
He thought I’d stay home, feeling sad, waiting like always. But this time, I didn’t. I did something that left him speechless — scrambling to explain himself, and realizing he had no idea who he was really married to.
For an entire year, I had been preparing for our tenth anniversary trip. Santorini had always been a dream destination. I picked the perfect cliffside hotel with a private infinity pool overlooking the Aegean Sea. I had dinner reservations booked months in advance, printed maps of walking trails, and even arranged for sunset photoshoots.
I remember smoothing my fingers over the navy-blue sundress I bought just for our first dinner in Greece. The tags were still hanging on the sleeve as I gently folded it into my suitcase. I was full of excitement, heart pounding with anticipation.
Then my phone buzzed.
I glanced at the screen. A text from my husband, Brian.
“Hey babe, change of plans. Mom’s really upset about her business. Taking her to the Bahamas for the week instead. Anniversary trip is off. We can go another time. Talk when I get back.”
I stared at the message.
Once. Twice. Then a third time.
My heart dropped to the floor.
I grabbed my phone and called him immediately, my fingers trembling so much I almost dropped it.
When he picked up, I snapped, “Where are you right now?”
“Airport,” he replied, as if nothing had happened. “Actually boarding in a few minutes.”
I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. “Brian, we’ve been planning this trip for a year. My mom took off work to watch the kids. The hotel’s non-refundable!”
“I know, I know,” he said, brushing it off. “But Mom’s really going through it. She needed this. You understand, right?”
“And what about me, Brian? Don’t I need you too?”
He sighed. “Don’t make this difficult. You’re always so understanding. That’s what I love about you. We’ll have other anniversaries.”
“Brian—”
“They’re calling my row. Gotta go. Love you. We’ll talk when I get back.”
Click.
He hung up.
I just stood there, holding the phone to my ear, listening to silence. Then I slowly looked around — at the suitcase on the bed, the printed itinerary on the dresser, the anniversary card I wrote that morning. I felt my heart actually break.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered, but the room didn’t answer back.
Then my phone buzzed again. It was a message from my mom:
“Just picked up the kids from school! They’re so excited for their sleepover with Grandma. We’re heading to my place now. You and Brian have the best time!”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and typed:
“Thanks, Mom.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, stunned. But then… something happened.
A tiny thought, wild and stubborn, popped into my mind.
What if I went anyway?
I called the airline.
Brian had canceled his ticket. But mine? Still valid.
I called the hotel.
Reservation under my name. Nothing changed.
I didn’t need Brian. I just needed someone… someone who could make me laugh and wouldn’t cancel on me for their mother.
I scrolled through my contacts, thumb hesitating over one name: Liam. My best friend Amy’s older brother. Recently divorced. Always charming, always up for an adventure.
And once, during a BBQ, he mentioned how much he’d love to visit Greece.
My fingers moved before I could second-guess myself.
“Crazy question. Want to go to Santorini tomorrow? All expenses paid. Long story. 🌴”
Three dots popped up right away.
“Is this for real? Because I’ve got vacation days I need to use. 😃”
“Totally serious. My husband just ditched our anniversary trip to take his mom to the Bahamas instead. 🙄”
“He what?? Rachel, that’s awful. Are you okay?”
“I will be. Especially if I don’t let this trip go to waste. So… you in?”
A pause. Three dots again.
“Give me two hours to pack and grab my passport. This is the most exciting offer I’ve had in years. 🤩🥳”
I laughed out loud. My first real laugh in hours.
“Perfect. Flight leaves at 7 a.m. I’ll send you the details.”
Twenty-four hours later, I was standing on a balcony in Santorini, overlooking the sparkling blue Aegean. The white buildings looked like sugar cubes stacked along the cliffs.
Liam walked out, handed me a glass of wine, and grinned. “To the worst husband and the best revenge trip ever planned!”
I clinked my glass against his. “I still can’t believe I actually did this.”
Liam leaned on the railing. “Honestly? When I got your message, I thought you were joking.”
“That makes two of us,” I said, laughing. “I’m never this spontaneous.”
“Well, I’m very glad you were,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I’d be watching Netflix on my couch if you hadn’t texted me.”
The sun began to dip, casting golden light over the buildings. I watched it, silently. It was the sunset I had imagined sharing with Brian.
Liam must’ve noticed. “Do you think he realizes what he’s missing?”
I took a slow sip of wine. “Not yet. But he will.”
The next day? Private yacht tour. Then wine tasting and dinner in Oia. Every moment was something out of a dream.
And Liam? He was unexpectedly perfect. He knew how I liked my coffee, always offered me the shadier seat, and made me laugh until my stomach hurt.
While hiking back from Red Beach, he suddenly stopped. “This spot is incredible. We need a picture.”
I handed him my phone. “Sure. Just me?”
He grinned and flagged down a tourist. “Let’s take one together.”
A friendly Australian woman snapped a few pictures of us laughing with the stunning cliffs and sea behind us.
Later, while Liam showered, I scrolled through them. One photo stopped me. I was smiling at the camera, carefree. Liam was looking out at the sea, sun catching his profile.
Without overthinking, I uploaded it to Instagram with the caption:
“Didn’t let a little change of plans ruin the adventure! 💙🏖️💃🏻🌴”
I hesitated… then hit Share.
That night at dinner, Liam raised his glass.
“Rachel, thank you. I needed this more than I even realized.”
I looked at him, surprised. “Really? Why?”
He swirled the wine in his glass. “After my divorce, I sort of stopped living. I forgot what it felt like to enjoy anything. But this week… this week reminded me.”
A warm feeling bloomed in my chest. This trip wasn’t just about revenge anymore. It was about me.
Then, at 3 a.m., my phone exploded with messages. From Brian.
“WHO IS THAT GUY?”
“WHY ARE YOU IN SANTORINI?”
“ANSWER YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW.”
“RACHEL THIS ISN’T FUNNY.”
I smiled, silenced the phone, and went back to sleep.
In the morning, seven missed calls. One long voicemail.
I didn’t listen.
Instead, I texted:
“Hey babe, change of plans. We’ll talk when I get back.”
Then I turned off my phone completely and joined Liam for our wine tour.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s perfect,” I said, and I meant it.
That night, after a dreamy sunset dinner in Oia, Liam and I sat on the balcony in silence.
He turned to me. “Can I ask something personal?”
I smiled. “After this week? Go ahead.”
“Are you glad you did this? The revenge trip?”
I looked up at the stars. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I always compromise. I always stay quiet. But this time… I stood up for myself. And it felt amazing.”
Liam laughed. “Brian’s face when he saw those photos must’ve been priceless.”
“Oh, he’s getting exactly what he gave me,” I said. “Perfect revenge, don’t you think?”
Liam raised his glass again. “To husbands who learn not to take their wives for granted.”
We clinked glasses. And in that quiet moment, something in me changed. Not for Liam. For me. I remembered who I was.
When we landed, Brian was waiting at the airport, pacing.
He froze when he saw me — tan, glowing, relaxed — walking beside Liam.
“You actually went through with it,” he stammered. “You went to Santorini… with him??”
“Yes, I did,” I said, calm as ever. “Just like you went to the Bahamas… with your mom.”
Liam stepped forward. “I should give you two a minute. Thanks for the amazing week, Rachel.” He squeezed my hand and walked away.
Brian’s jaw clenched. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No,” I said firmly. “But the fact that’s your first question tells me a lot.”
“You went on our anniversary trip with another man!”
“And you canceled that trip with a text,” I shot back. “You didn’t even ask me. You just expected me to sit at home and be understanding.”
He rubbed his face. “So what now? Are you still mad?”
I looked at him, really looked. “I’m not mad. I’m just done being an afterthought.”
His face went pale. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’d better include me in your plans from now on. No more texts like that. No more treating me like I’m optional.”
He nodded slowly, clearly shaken.
“The kids are at my mom’s. I’m going to get them. You can order takeout tonight — I’m not cooking.”
“Rachel, I’m sorry.”
“I realized something this week,” I said. “Sometimes, you have to remind people what you’re worth. Or they’ll keep forgetting.”
I turned to leave, then glanced over my shoulder.
“Oh, and Brian? Next anniversary? I’m picking the destination. And you better not make other plans.”
The smile on my face?
It felt like victory — sweet, satisfying, well-deserved victory. And it felt just right.
Want to do a part two where Brian tries to win her back or where she sees Liam again?
