I was supposed to be sipping wine in Santorini, celebrating 10 wonderful years of marriage with my husband. Instead, he canceled—last minute—because he decided to take his mother to the Bahamas instead. He assumed I’d stay behind, quietly hurt. But I had other plans… the kind that left him stunned and scrambling for answers.
I had spent a full year organizing every detail of our anniversary getaway to Greece—boutique hotels, ocean-view dinners, you name it. I was packing the navy sundress I bought just for that trip when my phone buzzed with a message from Brian:
“Hey babe, change of plans. Mom’s stressed about her business, so I’m taking her to the Bahamas. We’ll reschedule our trip. Talk when I get back.”
Staring at that message, my heart sank. I called him, but he was already boarding. No apology, just a casual, “We’ll have other anniversaries.”
My mother had already picked up the kids. The reservations were still valid. That’s when something bold clicked inside me.
I texted Liam—my best friend’s recently-divorced brother—and asked him if he wanted to come to Santorini instead. His response?
“Give me two hours to pack.”
Just like that, I was on a plane the next morning—not sulking at home, but flying toward a stunning escape with someone who actually appreciated the adventure.
Santorini was breathtaking. Wine, sunsets, laughter—Liam turned out to be not only respectful and kind but the perfect travel partner. He noticed the little things, like how I take my coffee or the way I avoid the sun.
We made memories. Took photos. One made it onto my Instagram: me smiling, with Liam by my side. Caption? “Didn’t let a little change of plans ruin the adventure!”
Cue the 3 a.m. texts from Brian:
“WHO IS THAT GUY?” “WHY ARE YOU IN SANTORINI?” “CALL ME NOW!”
I turned off my phone with a smile.
By the time I landed back home, Brian was waiting at the airport, furious and confused. He asked if I’d slept with Liam.
“No,” I answered truthfully. “But the fact that’s your first question says everything.”
I told him what he clearly hadn’t realized: that canceling our anniversary trip—by text—to take his mom, without even asking me, wasn’t just inconsiderate. It was the final straw.
“I’m not angry,” I said. “I’m just done being an afterthought.”
Then I picked up my suitcase and told him: from now on, if he wanted me in his life, he’d have to treat me like a partner, not a placeholder.
And next anniversary? I’m choosing the destination—and he’d better not have other plans.
Because this time, I reminded him exactly what I’m worth.