Darren stood there staring down at the boarding pass in his hand, a strange mix of hurt and anger rising in his chest at the same time. He had worked for every single cent he’d ever earned. He had loved her without a single condition attached to it. And now here he was, separated from his own wife by a curtain — First Class on one side, Economy on the other — a small physical detail standing in for something far bigger underneath it.
He couldn’t make himself walk down that aisle and take his seat. He stepped off the plane before boarding finished, his chest heavy, his pride bruised in a place he didn’t know could still be bruised.
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The Phone Call
Later, his phone rang. Her father, not wasting a single word on pleasantries. “You should be grateful,” the man said, cold and matter-of-fact. “My daughter deserves a certain lifestyle. I’ll make sure she has it. Just not because of you.”
