When I Saw Them Together, The Audacity Got Worse
I waited near premium check-in where I could see the counter clearly.
Then they walked in.
My husband and a young woman in a white sundress, glowing like she was stepping into a magazine shoot.
He had his hand on her back.
He was laughing—real laughter I hadn’t heard at home in months.
And he was rolling two suitcases.
One of them was mine.
A vintage leather piece I bought years ago on a trip I paid for.
That detail almost broke my composure.
Not because it was “just luggage.”
Because it showed the mindset.
He wasn’t borrowing.
He was taking.
They reached the counter and handed over passports.
He slid my credit card forward like it belonged to him.
The agent swiped it once.
Frowned.
Swiped again.
Then she picked up the phone.
My husband started tapping the counter, impatient, entitled.
He leaned in like he could bully the system into cooperating.
Two minutes later, two uniformed officers arrived.
And behind them, a stern man in a suit.
That’s when the announcement came—cold, procedural, and final.
The kind of announcement that doesn’t care about excuses.
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