The Missed Flight
I have a daughter, Jess, who is studying out of state. My wife, Meg, is her stepmom, and though they get along well enough, things have been… complicated lately. Meg has this frustrating habit of constantly making us late for flights when we’re visiting Jess. We’ve already missed a few because of her last-minute stops, and it’s started to wear on me.
The latest incident happened just last week. We had a tight layover, barely enough time to get to our connecting flight, and I made it crystal clear to Meg that we couldn’t afford any delays. She nodded, pretending to listen, but as we walked through the airport, she casually said, “I’m just grabbing a quick coffee,” and wandered off without waiting for my reply.
I called after her, but she ignored me, disappearing into the crowded terminal. Minutes ticked by, and I started to panic. The boarding gate was almost closing, and Meg was still nowhere to be seen. I called her phone—no answer.
Fed up, I made the decision I never thought I’d make. I boarded the plane without her. Jess was waiting for me, and I wasn’t going to let her down because of Meg’s carelessness again.
As I settled into my seat, guilt started creeping in. Had I done the right thing? What would Meg say when she realized I’d left without her? I tried calling her again, but her phone went straight to voicemail.
When I finally arrived and saw Jess waiting for me at the airport, her face lit up, and for a moment, I felt I’d made the right choice. We spent a wonderful evening together, catching up on her classes and life. But in the back of my mind, I knew I’d have to face Meg eventually.
When I got back home, Meg was waiting for me. She was furious. “How could you leave me like that?” she demanded. I told her I was tired of her constant disregard for time, for our plans, and most importantly, for Jess.
She paused, and for a moment, I thought she might apologize. Instead, she crossed her arms and said, “Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with Jess, you’d notice I feel left out.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I realized this wasn’t just about coffee or missed flights. There was something deeper going on—a rift between us I hadn’t noticed.
Now I’m stuck trying to figure out how to mend things. How do I balance being there for my daughter and making my wife feel included? Or is this the beginning of a bigger problem I didn’t see coming?