The night before our first real road trip in thirty years, an email appeared on my screen with a single brutal word:
CANCELED.
Ten minutes later, I discovered my husband hadn’t canceled our vacation because something urgent had happened.
He had canceled it because he had decided my time belonged to his sister.
I called Daniel immediately.
“What happened?”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of ice knocking against a glass.
“I canceled it,” he said casually. “Melissa needs you to watch her kids.”
I stared at the
