Feeling worn out and unvalued, I decided it was time to take a pause from my marriage to clear my thoughts. Little did I know that my car would betray me, leaving me stranded at a quaint little motel. What began as an attempt to escape turned into an encounter that altered everything for me.

“He doesn’t hit, drink or cheat on you. What else could possibly be the matter?” This was a phrase I had heard so many times that I could practically say it in my sleep.

All my friends, family, even colleagues repeated it like it was some universal truth.

I had spent years silently questioning this unfairness,

but much like everyone else, I adhered to the rules. That’s the way I was raised.

Now, with the kids grown up and moved out, it was just me and Tony. And now, the truth was something I couldn’t ignore.

“You don’t clean well enough,” “You’ve never learned to cook like my mother,” “You ought to do more.”

The words cut deep, not because they were new accusations, but because they never seemed to end.

I worked just as many hours as Tony did. In fact, I earned more than him. Yet, after a long day, I was the one scrubbing floors, washing dishes, and folding laundry while he sat on the couch, watching TV like I owed him something.

One evening, Tony was sprawled out in front of the television again. “Carmen!” his voice boomed from the living room.

I sighed, flour covering my hands from kneading dough. I wiped them on my apron and kept on working. “What?” I called back.

“Come here! Right now!” he barked.

I clenched my jaw and entered the living room. Tony didn’t bother to look up.

“What do you want?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He lazily pointed at the television. “Why is there dust on the TV?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I let out a chuckle filled with irony. “If you don’t like it, clean it yourself.”

Tony scoffed. “Who’s the woman in this house, me or you?” He shook his head. “I’m tired from work.”

“So am I,” I replied. “I did the laundry. I’m making dinner. You’re just sitting there doing nothing.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Stop making excuses. It’s your job! Sarah from work has a job and still does everything at home. And she looks fantastic, unlike you—” He gestured at me. “You’ve let yourself go.

The words stung, not because they were new, but something inside me snapped this time. I ripped off my apron and threw it onto the floor.

“You think she’s so perfect? Go live with her! Or clean your own mess! I’m done!” I shouted.

I stormed upstairs, my heart pounding. I grabbed a suitcase and pulled open my closet.

Tony’s footsteps loud behind me. “Where are you going?”

“On vacation! I deserve it!” I tossed clothes into the suitcase haphazardly,

“You’re just going to leave me here alone?” His voice rose with panic.

I zipped the suitcase shut. “I need to decide if I even want this marriage!”

Tony looked stunned, possibly thinking I’d withdraw, unpack, and apologize, like always. But not this time. I had hit my limit.

I lugged my suitcase, tossed it into the car, and set off without a backward glance. The road stretched before me, open and free.

No solid plan, just a desire for distance. A trip to the beach seemed lovely—

I couldn’t even remember when I’d last taken a vacation just for me.

I stopped to refuel and buy water. Inside, I picked up a bottle and some snacks and made my way to the counter. A man behind it seemed oddly familiar.

His eyes bore into me—not a casual glance, but a probing stare that made me shift uncomfortably.

“Do we know each other?” I inquired, squinting.

A smirk crossed his face. “You once swore you’d never forget me.”

Recognition struck. The voice, the eyes—it hit me. “David…” I exhaled.

He laughed warmly. “Nice to see you again.” He pulled me into a familiar hug. “What brings you here?”

“I’m on a solo vacation,” I said, stepping back.

David looked surprised. “All alone?”

“Yes,” I affirmed.

He nodded thoughtfully. “If you need a place to rest, I have a motel nearby. I could offer a discount.” He winked playfully.

Though tempted, I shook my head. “No, I need to be alone.”

“If you change your mind, the offer stands.” He left his card.

At checkout, my mind was spinning. Meeting David, my first love, here seemed too serendipitous.

Was it fate? A sign that it was meant to be?

I briefly considered it before dismissing the idea. Out in the parking lot, David was nowhere in sight.

As I continued driving, the highway felt limitless. Then, out of nowhere, the car engine sputtered and died.

Disheartened, I exited the car and lifted the hood, clueless about what I was seeing.

Another car slowed beside me; the window rolled down. “Having trouble?” It was David, grinning.

“Yes, my car’s completely given up,” I replied, frustrated.

David inspected the engine and, after a few minutes, said, “This needs professional repairs.”

I felt panic rising. “But it was fine minutes ago.”

“Cars can be unpredictable,” he sympathized. “I know a mechanic who’s excellent. While you wait, you can stay at my motel.”

I agreed, grateful. In David’s car, the silence was easy, not awkward.

He parked in front of a neat, small motel with a bright Vacancy sign.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said warmly, handing me a room key, declining payment.

“Consider it a favor for an old friend,” he smiled.

Later, the mechanic confirmed more bad news. “It’ll take a few days.”

This situation forced me to stay, but maybe it wasn’t so bad. It gave me breathing space. It gave me time with David.

We spent our mornings at a cozy diner nearby, sharing stories and memories over eggs and coffee.

In the evenings, he’d treat us to dinner. It was different; he had changed, yet stayed the same. His warmth and laughter stirred forgotten feelings.

Every smile made my heart race with the energy of young love.

One evening, as we sat on the motel terrace, surrounded by the fragrant night air, I asked, “Do you regret our breakup?”

“Every day,” David said earnestly, eyes meeting mine.

Those words moved me. I leaned in, and our lips touched, gently at first, then with a hunger long forgotten.

Morning came, and I woke in his arms, the reality of my actions washing over me. I sat up, panic in my heart. I reached for my phone to see a message from Tony.

Carmen, I realize now how I’ve taken you for granted. Please forgive me. I promise to change—come back home.

Tears stung my eyes, conflicted between Tony’s promises and my betrayal. Quietly, I packed my bag, slipping from the room.

As I packed, a knock on the door startled me. I opened it to find David, curiosity evident. “You vanished. I thought we’d have breakfast.”

“I’m going back home,” I said, clutching my suitcase.

“Why?” David asked, confusion clouding his face.

“Tony says he’s ready to change,” I replied, my voice steady.

David’s face fell. “He’s said that before and never changed.”

“I have to give it one more try,” I said.

“But your car isn’t fixed,” David insisted.

“I can take the bus,”

David tried once more, “Please, don’t leave. I love you.”

Despite these words, I pulled away and boarded the bus.

Yet as the bus groaned into motion, my mind stayed on David.

I had dismissed Tony’s empty promises in the past, so why should it be different now?

Panic quickened in me; what was I doing? I shot up, racing to the front of the bus and pleading to be let off.

The driver reluctantly obliged, and I found myself sprinting back to the motel, unsure just why I was running.

The receptionist barely looked up, telling me, “David’s by your car.”

Rushing outside, I froze upon hearing the mechanic’s words.

“Quite a move, causing all this fuss,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

David crossed his arms. “You don’t understand. I had to make sure she stayed.”

A laugh escaped the mechanic. “I’ve seen folks come by after furious partners caused a car problem, but never a man doing it intentionally.”

The realization hit me hard. David had interfered?

The mechanic continued. “There wasn’t anything wrong with it. We fixed things on day one.”

I couldn’t contain the anger. “How could you do this?!”

David turned to me, surprise in his eyes. “Carmen?”

I stood firm, voice shaking, “How could you lie to me again?”

His tone softened. “I did it for us.”

For us? You knew…” Anger surged. “You understood my struggles with Tony’s disrespect. Then, you did this?”

“How else would you have stayed?” he pleaded.

I couldn’t restrain my disdain. “I’m not someone to be manipulated!”

Desperation poured from him. “I just wanted to help us be together.”

I shook my head. “I was ready to leave Tony but not to hand over control to someone else.”

His expression fell but I stood my ground. “No, David. You wanted what was best for you.”

Turning to the mechanic, “Keys,” I requested.

He offered them immediately.

I gripped them tightly, driving away. I wouldn’t go back to Tony nor would I stay with David.

For the first time, I prioritized someone who’d respect me—myself.