My Husband Invited 75 Guests To Stay In Our 2-bedroom Apartment For A Month. He Expected Me To Pay $12,000 For His Mother’s Birthday. So I Drained The Joint Account And Caught A Flight Out Of His Life.

The trip to the airport took 40 minutes. There wasn’t much traffic at the airport.

She paid the driver, got out of the car, dragged the suitcase, and entered the terminal. It was crowded, noisy, and the departure boards were flickering.

Hannah went to an airline counter and stood in a short queue. It was her turn.

A young employee in a uniform smiled at her. “Good evening. How can I help you?” she asked.

Hannah said calmly, “The first flight to Wellington.”

The employee typed on the computer. “One moment, please. There’s a flight leaving in two hours at 11:30 p.m. There are seats left in economy and business. Which do you prefer?” she asked.

Hannah thought for a moment. Business was three times more expensive, but it would be quieter and more comfortable.

No, this was not the time for luxuries. “Economy, please,” she said.

The employee nodded. “That’s $200. How would you like to pay?” she asked.

Hannah gave her her personal card, paid, and received the printed boarding pass. She checked her suitcase.

It was within the weight limit. She received the luggage tag and went through security.

She took off her jacket, put it on the conveyor belt, and walked through the metal detector. She had forgotten to take her phone out of her pocket.

She took it out, went through again, and this time it didn’t beep. She collected her things and went to the departure lounge.

She sat in a chair next to a large window overlooking the tarmac. She took out her phone.

35 missed calls from Liam. 15 messages.

She opened the message list and skimmed them. “Hannah, please pick up the phone. What’s going on? Where are you? Call me now,” one message read.

“This doesn’t make sense. Come back. Let’s talk. I don’t understand why you’re reacting like this,” another said.

“Mom is trying to pay for the restaurant and the card isn’t working. What have you done?” he asked in another.

“I checked the joint account and there’s only $100 left. Where’s the rest? The credit card isn’t working either. You blocked it, didn’t you? Hannah, this is insane. Please say something,” read the last one.

Hannah didn’t reply to any of them. She called her mother.

“Mom, I’m coming to Wellington. I’ll be late, around 2:00 in the morning. Can you pick me up?” she asked.

Her mother replied by message a minute later. “Darling, what happened? You have to work tomorrow,” she said.

Her voice sounded worried but calm. Hannah wrote, “I’ll explain everything later. Just come get me. The flight is at 11:30. I land at 12:45.”

“Okay darling, I’ll pick you up. I’ll be waiting,” her mother replied.

Hannah put her phone away, leaned back in the chair, and closed her eyes. Physical and emotional exhaustion suddenly washed over her, but inside she felt a great calm.

No doubts, no regrets, just absolute clarity. The phone vibrated again.

Liam. This time Hannah decided to answer.

She put it to her ear. He started shouting immediately without letting her say a word.

“Where are you? What is all this? Mom just called saying she can’t pay for the restaurant. The card was declined. I checked our joint account and there’s only $100 left. Where is the other $4,400? I tried to pay with the credit card and it’s blocked too! It was you! Why? Where the hell are you? When are you coming home?” he asked.

His voice was breaking and he was out of breath. Hannah listened in silence, waiting for him to vent.

When he paused for a moment to catch his breath, she said in a flat, emotionless voice, “I’m at the airport. I’m going to Wellington to my mother’s house. I’m leaving in an hour. I’ve blocked the cards and taken the money from the account.”

“It was my money. $2,000 was my contribution and the rest was my share. I have the right to do it. I’m filing for divorce. The apartment is yours, so you pay the mortgage. I renounce my claim to it. I’m not coming back. You deal with your 75 guests and your month-long party,” she added.

She heard him gasp on the other end of the phone. Then a thud, as if the phone had been dropped.

Then a scraping sound, as if someone was sliding down a wall to the floor, and a dull thump. He had probably sat down on the floor.

Finally, a muffled sound, as if he had covered his face with his hands. Hannah hung up, blocked his number, turned off notifications, and put the phone in her bag.

A Sanctuary in Wellington

An hour and a half later, the boarding for her flight was announced. Hannah stood up and walked towards the gate.

She showed her boarding pass, went through the jet bridge, and headed to the plane. She climbed the stairs and found her seat: Row 15, window.

She sat down and fastened her seat belt. The seat next to her was empty; she was lucky.

The plane began to fill with passengers: families with children, elderly couples, young people with backpacks. A flight attendant walked down the aisle checking seat belts.

The doors were closed. The plane began to move towards the runway.

Hannah looked out the window. The lights of the airport, the silhouettes of other planes, the taxiing, the acceleration, the takeoff.

The plane lifted off. Auckland was left below, getting further and further away.

Hannah watched the city lights, which grew smaller with each moment, and felt not so much relief as a deep and total serenity. It had to happen sooner or later; it just happened today.

The flight lasted an hour and a quarter. Hannah reclined her seat and dozed.

The flight attendant offered her something to drink, but she declined. She just sat looking at the darkness outside the window, thinking about nothing.