My Husband Avoided Traveling with Me for 17 Years …I Came Back from Holiday Early to Learn Why
Lauren always believed her husband simply disliked traveling—until this year, when his behavior left her more confused than ever. A family vacation would bring years of quiet tension to a breaking point. Determined to uncover the truth, she ended up finding more than she ever expected.
I scrolled through photos from last year’s family trip—just me, my parents, and my siblings. Not a single shot of Mike or the boys. They hadn’t come. Mike always insisted they stay home with him.
“Mom, can we go to the beach this summer? Please?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah!” Ben chimed in from the floor, surrounded by Lego bricks. “A real beach. Not the lake. Uncle Tim said Hawaii has black sand!”
I smiled and kissed Ethan’s hair. “We’ll see.”
Planning a vacation was always bittersweet. I loved the adventure—the sun, the stories, the time with my family. But for the past seventeen years, Mike and the boys had always stayed behind. The guilt weighed heavier each year.
“Why don’t we ever go, Mom?” Ben asked quietly. “Dad says vacations are just for grown-ups.”
“That’s not true,” I said, my chest tightening.
“But he always says no,” Ethan added.
I hesitated. “Dad’s just… not a big fan of traveling. But we’ll figure something out.”
The truth was, Mike didn’t just dislike travel. He resisted it—every time. He had an excuse ready before I even finished asking.
“It’s too expensive.”
“They’re too young to remember it.”
“They’re better off staying here with me.”
Eventually, I stopped asking. Arguing didn’t change anything.
Then one day, Mom called. Her voice was both excited and uncertain.
“Lauren, I want to take the whole family to the Virgin Islands this summer. One last big trip while I still can. The kids should come, too.”
The Virgin Islands—her favorite place. She and Dad had gone every other year until he passed. This wasn’t just a vacation. It was her way of creating memories with her grandchildren while she still could.
“That sounds perfect,” I said. “I’ll talk to Mike.”
“Don’t let him stop you,” she said gently. “The boys deserve this. And so do you.”
That evening, I brought it up while we cleaned up after dinner.
“Mom wants to take us to the Virgin Islands this summer,” I said.
Mike didn’t look up from the dish he was drying. “That’s far.”
“She’s been dreaming about taking the boys for years. This might be her last chance.”
He sighed. “And what happens when the boys get tired or bored? Who’s dealing with that?”
“They’re old enough now,” I said, trying to stay calm. “They’ve been asking to go somewhere new for years.”
“Then take them.”
I blinked. “You’re okay with that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll think about going myself.”
For a moment, I let myself believe him. Maybe he really would join us. But when I mentioned the flights, he shut down completely.
“I didn’t realize we’d have to fly,” he said, tense.
“It’s the Virgin Islands, Mike. Of course we have to fly.”
“I’m not comfortable with that,” he muttered.
“It’s one flight.”
“I said no, Lauren,” he snapped.
This time, I didn’t back down. I booked the tickets for me and the boys.
When I told them, their faces lit up.
“We’re really going?” Ben asked.
“Really?” Ethan squealed, bouncing on the couch.
“Yes,” I said, smiling. “We’re really going.”
The flight was a brand-new adventure for them—full of questions and wide-eyed wonder.
“How high do we go?” Ben asked.
“Do pilots ever get lost?” Ethan wanted to know.
I answered what I could, laughing at their excitement.
When we landed, the boys ran down the beach, their laughter echoing in the salty air. Mom hugged me tightly.
“I’m so glad you brought them,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion.
“Me too,” I said, watching them chase each other along the shore.
The days were full of snorkeling, sandcastles, and long dinners with family. But at night, after the boys had fallen asleep, I couldn’t shake a growing unease.
Mike’s calls were brief, his tone distant.
“Everything okay?” I asked one evening.
“Yeah. Just busy.”
“Busy with what?”
“Work. Stuff.”
The clipped answers twisted my stomach. That night, I stood alone on the balcony, staring at the waves.
Then I called Mom.
“I think I need to head back early,” I said quietly.
She paused. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know. Mike’s been acting strange. I just… I can’t ignore it anymore.”
“You did the right thing by bringing the boys,” she said. “They’re having the time of their lives. I’ll watch them. Do what you need to do.”
On the flight home, my mind raced. I replayed every argument, every excuse Mike had ever made. Had I missed something deeper? Or had we simply drifted too far apart?
As I stepped through the front door, my heart dropped.
Mike was sitting on the couch with a woman I didn’t recognize. She looked up, startled.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
Mike stood, pale. “Lauren, this isn’t—”
“Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand. “I leave for a week, and this is what I come back to?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then explain it.”
The woman rose. “I should go.”
“No,” Mike said. “Stay. Lauren, this is Dr. Keller. She’s my therapist.”
I blinked. “Your… therapist?”
“Yes. I’ve been seeing her for a few months. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed about what?”
“I’m terrified of flying,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “Always have been. I had a panic attack at the airport when I was seven. My parents told me to ‘suck it up.’ I never forgot that. I thought the boys might panic too if they flew too young.”
I stared at him, stunned.
“I’ve been hiding it from you,” he continued. “Every time you mentioned a trip, I panicked. It was easier to fight than to face it.”
Dr. Keller spoke softly. “Mike asked me to come today. He wanted to show you he’s been working on it.”
I looked at him. “Why now?”
“Because I’m tired of missing out,” he said. “Tired of watching you and the boys go without me. And I hate what it’s done to us.”
A lump rose in my throat. I sat down, shaken. “You should’ve told me.”
“I know. I was afraid you’d think I was weak.”
I shook my head. “This doesn’t make you weak, Mike. It makes you human.”
We sat in silence before I reached for his hand.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“I keep going to therapy,” he said. “And I keep trying. Maybe by next summer, I’ll be on that plane with you and the boys.”
I nodded, heart softening. “We’ll do it together.”
The next morning, we sat at the kitchen table with a map spread between us, dreaming about where we’d go next. For the first time in years, we weren’t arguing. We were planning. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like a new beginning.
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