My Husband Invited His Ex-Wife Over for the Sake of the Children—So I Celebrated My Freedom in a Hotel Instead

Husband invited his ex-wife for the kids, so I spent the celebration at a hotel

Where are you planning to put that vase? asked Marina, valiantly clinging to civility while internally boiling like an over-simmered stew. She fiddled with her apron and glared at her husband as he shunted a crystal salad bowl around the table, looking like someone whod forgotten how furniture worked.

Does it really matter? Andrew attempted a sheepish, apologetic grinhis classic moveand today it grated on Marina more than usual. Larissa always liked that vase. She used to say Olivier salad looked festive in it. And since were all gathering, just for the boys, maybe we should do what makes everyone comfortable?

Marina stared at him, the knife poised in mid-air above a half-sliced cucumber. She inhaled deeply, counting to three so she wouldnt start screaming.

Andrew, her voice dropped into that soft, deadly register, let me clarify. Its my house. I, your legal wife, have spent TWO DAYS prepping everything. Ive marinated meat, baked cakes, scrubbed floors. And now youre telling me we should display this tacky vase, just because your ex-wife liked it? Is that honestly what you think?

Andrew sagged into a chair, suddenly weighed down by the entire history of western civilization.

Marina, please. Not now. The twins birthdaytwenty! Thats important to them. They wanted both parents. What were my options? Tell Larissa not to come? Shes their mum. Its just one evening. Well have cake, exchange pleasantries, and disperse. I just want it all to go smoothly. You know youre the sensible one here.

Sensible woman, Marina thought, bristling. Somehow that always translated as the easy one. The one who keeps quiet, makes herself small, pretends everythings fine while everyone else uses her as a doormat.

Theyd been married five years. Shed taken Andrew with all his emotional luggage, his child support payments, his endless trips to see the twins when they were surly teenagers. Shed never interfered in all that. Anton and Paul were regular guests, and her relationship with them was perfectly friendly. But Larissa was in a league of her ownvoluble, dramatic, and perpetually convinced Andrew was on permanent loan to someone less deserving.

Its not about the boys, Andrew. And Ive made my peace with Larissa coming, unlike most whod simply book a restaurant instead of dragging the ex-wife into the new wifes house. Why should I design the table to her taste though? Am I supposed to put on her favourite dress too? Get her haircut?

Youre exaggerating, Andrew protested as he stood. Fine, Ill put away the vase. Dont sulk. The lads will be here in an hour with Larissaher cars in bits, so theyre bringing her. Lets just keep it civil for the party.

He gave her a quick, obligatory peck on the cheek and disappeared to shave, leaving Marina adrift in a sea of bowls, saucepans, and groceries. The roast in the oven smelled fantastic; the mushroom gratin on the hob, divine. But she didnt want to eat a thingshe felt like she was preparing a wake for her own self-respect.

The hour passed, then came the commotion in the hallway: loud laughter, stomping, voices that could rattle the windows.

Well, wheres our dear Daddy? That voice, shrill and cutting, filled the air; Marina would know it anywhere. Andrew! Were here!

Marina removed her apron, checked her hair for the tenth time, and went out to greet the guests.

The corridor was crammed. The twinsAnton and Paulnow towering over everyone, jostled out of their jackets. Larissa, queen amidst her entourage, wore a lurid red dress that seemed poured on and had styled her hair to defy gravity and basic chemistry.

Oh, Marina, hello, she drawled, dismissing the hostess with the casual grace of a minor royal. She hunted for Andrew. Weve brought gifts! Andrew love, come help your mother with this bagtheres pickled onions and things!

Andrew zipped out, beaming and flustered.

Welcome, lads! Happy birthday! He hugged his sons, clapping them on the back. Larissa, hello. Why the pickles? The tables already groaning.

Oh, I know what your tables are like, Larissa rolled her eyes, finally acknowledging Marina. Let me guessMarinas gone all healthy again? No salt, no fat? Boys need proper food, so Ive brought my own pickled onions, tomatoes, mushrooms. And, by the way, I made real brawn. From pork trotters, not that chicken jelly you gave us last time.

Marina felt her cheeks flush. Last time, six months ago, Larissa had criticized every crumb in sight.

Hello, Larissa, Marina replied, polite but glacial. Come in. Theres plenty of food. And the brawns beef todayclear as crystal.

Well see, Larissa sniffed and swept into the lounge without so much as a by-your-leave. Oh, you havent changed the sofa? Andrew, I told you ages ago, that colour’s dreary. Ages the room. And those curtains! You remember our old flatalways light and airy.

Andrew shuffled after her with bags.

We like it. Nice and cosy.

Cosys when your soul sings. This is mausoleum chic, declared Larissa, promptly plonking herself on the wrong sofa. Boys, hands washed! Marina, dont just stand therehurry along, the blokes are starving.

Marina gripped her fists until her nails dug in. Calm down, she mentally ordered herself. Just this once. Only for Andrew, for the twins sake.

She retreated to the kitchen. Andrew followed moments later.

Dont take it to heart, he whispered, grabbing plates. Shes always been bossy. You know its not personal. Let me help with the salads.

Ill do it, Marina snapped.

Dinner went downhill from there. Larissa wedged herself on Andrews right like a barnacle, elbow-to-elbow. The twins sat opposite, noses in their phones. Marina ended up perched near the door, as if she’d wandered in from staff catering.

Heres to my boys! Andrew toasted. Twenty years! Flown by!

Too right, Andy, Larissa cut in, dominating. Remember that time you drove me to the maternity ward? Black ice everywhere, broken-down Fiesta, you in a shirt shivering and fussing like a squirrel! Then you stood under the window, shouting Who? Who? So funny!

She laughed uproariously, flinging a hand on Andrews shoulder. He smiled, swept up in reminiscence.

Those were the days Young, daft.

And remember when little Paul fell in that puddle on the way to your mum’sbrand-new suit! You grabbed him, screaming, and we had to scrub him in the fountain!

One old story rolled into another. Larissa steered conversation tirelessly back to when we were a family: Remember our trip to Scarborough?, Remember hanging wallpaper?, Remember your broken leg, me spoon-feeding you?

Marina, reduced to poking her salad, felt like an errant houseplant. The twins occasionally mumbled assent. Andrew, glowing from wine and nostalgia, bantered along, forgetting his current wife sat right there.

Marina, pass the bread, Larissa interrupted, halfway through a driving lesson anecdote. So Im flailing at the pedals, Andrews shrieking Brake!, but I floor the acceleratornearly rammed a fence! You went grey overnight, love!

Thats her alrighta speed demon, Andrew chuckled.

My darling. Marina heard it like a gunshot. She looked at Andrew. He didnt even realiseit was the wistful gaze, the sentimental smile. Of courseLarissa reminded him of his youth, when life was wild and the grass was greener.

This salads salty, Larissa declared, breaking off her memory lane and munching into entire historical grievances. Falling for someone, Marina? Thats when you over-salt your own cookingthey say it’s love! But who for? Your own husband? Ha-ha! Andy, try my brawnits divine. Garlic’s plentiful!

She reached over, dumping her brawn onto Andrews plate over the gratin Marinad made.

Larissa, leave it, Marina said, voice low and quivering.

What? Larissa froze. Whats your problem?

I said take your hand off my husbands plate. And remove your brawn. Theres plenty here that I cooked.

A cold hush fell. The twins looked up. Andrews eyes flitted nervously.

Come on, Marina, its just a bit of food

Oh, its tasty, is it? Marina rose, the chair screeching like a horror soundtrack. So you prefer Larissas cooking? You like strolling down memory lane? Youre delighted having another woman run your housecriticising furniture, food, your wife?

Oh, dont be so sensitive, Larissa scoffed. Bit of advice, thats all.

I dont need it, Marina met her gaze. Nor do I need your company. I tolerated this for Andrew, for the boys. But clearly youre all perfectly happy herejokes, our fiesta, our holidays. Youre the family. Im just the hired help. Here to serve in silence.

Marina, enough, Andrew tried to grab her hand; she pulled away.

You keep reminiscing. I wont spoil it.

With that, Marina left the lounge. Through the door she heard Larissa hissing:

What a drama queen. I told you, Andrewshes not right for you. Thinks far too much of herself.

Marina entered the bedroom, hands shaking, but her mind clear. She packed a small overnight bagcosmetics, pyjamas, tablet, clean clothes. Changed out of her festive dress (feeling like a clown at someone elses party) into jeans and a comfortable jumper.

Taxi? Booked, arriving in seven minutes.

Coat on, boots zipped, she stepped out. From the lounge came more laughterLarissa holding court, Andrew giggling. Theyd already forgotten about her. Maybe they thought shed gone to sob over a pillow and return quietly.

Marina stuck her head in the doorway.

Im leaving, she announced.

The room fell silent. Andrew turned, glass in hand.

Out for bread?

No, Andrew. Im off to a hotel. Its my celebration toothe Day of Freedom from Rudeness and Disrespect. Carry on with your memory lane bash. Fridge is packed, cakes on the balcony. Dishwashers in the kitchen, tablets under the sink. Hope Larissa brings her A-game to washing-up as she does to brawn.

Have you lost your mind? Andrew leapt up, sending vodka spilling across the tablecloth. What hotel? Its late! Guests are here!

Theyre your guests, Andrew, not mine. Enjoy! Happy birthday, boys.

She shut the door, cutting off Andrews yells and Larissas flapping indignation.

In the taxi, she stared at passing streetlights, then rang the best spa hotel in town.

Hello, do you have a suite? Or a nice double? Brilliant. Ill be there in twenty minutes. Champagne and fruit bowl in the room, pleaseand book me a massage for tomorrow morning. Earliest slot.

The hotel was a havenscented air, crisp linens, perfect silence. No onions, no clattering cutlery, no alien voices. Her suite greeted her with cool airs and snowy sheets.

Marina showered, washing away the evening, snuggled up in a fluffy robe, poured herself champagne, and wandered onto the balcony. The city twinkled indifferently below.

Her phone vibrated non-stop. Andrew: fifteen missed calls. Three messages.

What on earth was that?

Come home now, youve embarrassed me!

This isnt funnyLarissas speechless.

Marina smiled, switched her phone off, and sipped her fizz. For the first time in ages, she felt properly free. No worrying if the roast was tender, or the TV too loud, or Andrews feelings bruised. Just herself. Pure bliss.

The next morning, sunlight woke her. She stretched, ordered breakfast in bedeggs benedict, croissants, a huge coffee. Massage followed, then a swim. By afternoon, she extended the booking another night. Home? Couldnt care less.

She switched her phone on near evening. More textstone softer now.

Marina, where are you? Im worried.

The lads left after you did. Said were a disaster.

Larissa left last night, after a blazing row.

Please answer!

She dialled Andrew.

Hello! Marina, thank heavens! Are you alive? Where ARE you? His voice trembled.

Im at the hotel, Andrew. Taking it easy.

Im sorry, he gasped. I made an utter mess.

So tell me, said Marina coolly. How was your big family reunion?

Dreadful. As soon as you left, Paul stood up: Well done, parentsMums a nightmare, Dads a doormat, Marinas the only normal one and you drove her out. Then he and Anton walked. Didnt touch the cake.

Marina felt a smug flicker. The boys were sharper than the adults.

And?

Then Larissa lost itcalled them ungrateful pigs, blamed you for everything. Ordered me to clear the table. I suggested she help, being the self-appointed matriarch. She screamed, smashed a plateone from your mums set.

She broke a plate?

Yes By accident, just waving her arms. I snapped. Told her to get a cab and leave. We had it out, big time. She rehashed our entire lifethe small pay, my mother, me ruining everything. I kicked her out.

Andrew paused, breathing heavily.

Im here, alone, with all the dirty dishes. Couldnt touch a thing. Please come home, Marina. I get it nowI was a fool. No more exes. Promise.

Dishes still there? Marina checked.

Yep. Just as you left them.

Perfect. Youve got until tomorrow morning. That place needs to gleam. No trace of Larissaher pickles, her brawn. Bin everything. If I spot a crumb, or that perfume lingers, Ill walk straight out. Divorce papers. Got it?

Got it. Ill scrub like mad. Just come home. I love you. I really meant well

Means well only works if you act with sense, Andrew, not endless trying to please everyone, Marina said crisply. Ill be home tomorrow. And listenif you ever let anyone criticise me in my house again, I wont go to a hotel. Ill go for good.

She hung up and watched the city lights flicker on. She finished her coffee. She did feel a little sorry for Andrewthe well-meaning but spineless man whod tangled himself trying to be everyones best friend. But mostly she felt sorry for herself, for years spent biting her tongue.

No more. That little escape to a hotel changed things. She realised she had the right, not to be sensible or convenient, but to be boss in her own life.

Next day, when she walked into the flat, lemon and cleaning spray filled the air. Windows were wide open, chasing away any lingering drama. Andrew, eyes puffy and hands raw, met her in the hall.

I did everything, he reported, looking like a Labrador waiting for judgement. Even washed the curtainsI swear they stank of hairspray.

Marina walked into the kitchen. Pristine. No pickle jars, no sign of brawn. The infamous vase had vanished.

Wheres the vase? she asked.

Bin, muttered Andrew. Same with the brawn. Never again.

Marina glanced at his tired face.

Alright, she said, taking her coat off. Put the kettle on. Well finish my cakeunless you chucked that out in a fit of zeal.

Andrew exhaled in relief and hugged her like a man who wouldnt dare let go.

Kept it. Had a slice last night, for comfort. Marina, youre the best. Sorry Im a fool.

Forgiven. But it was the last time, Andrew. The last.

They sat down for tea. Marina watched her husband, feeling: sometimes, the only way to hold a family together is by leaving it. Even if just for a couple of days. Because an empty chair says more than a thousand words ever could.