**A Holiday for Happiness**
We spend all year dreaming of a holiday, preparing for it, hoping to return happy. But often, the opposite happens.
Back in May, Jack and Emily started planning their trip—deciding where to go, where to stay. Emily wanted the sandy beaches of Brighton, with its shallow waters stretching nearly a mile and warm sea. Perfect for little Alfie.
*”You want to bring the kid?”* Jack asked flatly.
*”You say that like he’s only mine. Yes, of course. So what? People travel with babies all the time.”*
*”If there’s no one to leave him with. But we’ve got your mum. Ask her to look after him—she’ll say yes. Otherwise, we’ll drag sleepless nights, nappies, and tantrums with us. What kind of holiday would that be?”*
Emily agreed with her husband. Yet, she couldn’t imagine leaving Alfie for ten whole days.
Her mother sided with Jack.
*”Go alone, have a proper break. He’s too little—you’ll just exhaust yourselves. He won’t even remember it.”*
*”Look at this hotel I found. And the view! You can see the sea from the upper floors.”* Jack turned the laptop toward Emily.
*”What does the view matter? You’re going to the sea, not to stare at it from a window,”* she said. *”It’s pebbled beaches—not exactly relaxing.”*
*”What do you think deckchairs are for? At least we won’t drag sand back to the room.”*
Jack always had the right arguments. And Emily always gave in—because she loved him madly. What did it matter where they went, what the beach was like, as long as they were together? Two and a half years of marriage, and nothing had changed.
*”Flying’s best. More expensive, but faster,”* Jack said.
Emily fretted about leaving Alfie. He was little, but he’d notice her absence, miss her, cry. Would her mum manage?
*”So, should I book the hotel?”* Jack pulled her from her thoughts.
*”Yeah, go ahead.”*
They saw everything differently—even family. Jack lost his parents young, raised by his grandparents. His granddad passed when Jack finished school, his grandma two years later.
When they met, Jack already lived alone. Emily moved in fast, helping redecorate their future nest. Everyone envied her.
*”Lucky you, Em. Handsome fiancé, flat of his own, no meddling mother-in-law. Don’t get too smug, or someone might steal him,”* her friend joked.
*”Oh, like you?”* Emily laughed.
*”Why not? I’m just as pretty.”*
The first disappointment came a month after the wedding, just before Emily’s birthday, when Jack outright told her not to invite her mum.
*”Friends are coming. She’ll be bored.”*
*”It’s her day too. She gave birth to me, raised me. How can I tell her that?”*
*”Invite her the next day. We’ll have tea, cake.”*
Emily hated it but loved Jack too much to argue. Her mum, if hurt, didn’t show it. Came the next day, brought a lovely tea set. Jack showered her with compliments, kissed her cheek, thanked her for her daughter. No fight. No scene.
And so it went—every celebration filled with Jack’s mates, most still renting or living with parents. Her mum wasn’t invited.
*”If you love someone, you take them as they are. He grew up without parents—family means something else to him,”* her mum said. *”Besides, don’t fight over me. It’s just a birthday. A wife should be wise and patient. Start arguing, and it’ll only get worse. You’ve got a son. He needs his dad. Raising a child alone is hard—trust me.”*
Emily left Alfie with her mum while she shopped. Post-pregnancy weight lingered—dresses too tight, a new swimsuit needed. One day, she twirled in a light summer dress.
*”Like it? Once I tan, it’ll be perfect.”* She turned to Jack.
*”Eh. You look washed out. It makes you look bigger.”*
The words stung like ice. She studied the mirror. Before marriage, she’d been slim, bright. Breastfeeding rounded her out.
*”You used to like that my chest got bigger,”* she muttered.
The dress went back in the wardrobe.
*”Don’t be upset. It’s just the colour,”* Jack backpedalled.
Departure day neared. Emily packed slowly. She clung to Alfie, breathing him in. Regretted agreeing to leave him. Better to postpone the holiday, skip the south a year. Alfie should splash in the sea, run on hot sand, get stronger.
*No matter. When he’s older, we’ll go together. Jack will teach him to swim. Unless…*
She shoved the thought away. Where had it come from? They’d never even properly fought. They loved each other. *No “unless.”*
She ate less, checked the mirror daily. Knew even if she lost weight, she’d never be the girl Jack fell for.
They dropped Alfie at her mum’s on the way to the airport. Jack fidgeted as Emily smothered him with kisses.
*”Enough. You’re saying goodbye like you’re leaving forever.”* Her mum took Alfie. *”Look, he’s getting upset—he senses it. Go, before he starts crying.”*
Jack was giddy as a child. On the plane, he joked with the flight attendants. Emily had noticed before—any pretty woman nearby, and he turned on the charm. Barely married, and he was already looking elsewhere. What next?
*”Em, want juice? Em!”* he called.
*”No.”*
*”Stop moping. Alfie’s fine with Gran. We’ll bring him seashells…”*
Emily forced a smile, pushed the dark thoughts away.
The hotel room was small but comfy. Air-conditioned. Sea just steps away.
*”Freedom!”* Jack spun her around, then tumbled her onto the bed. *”Ready for the beach?”* He bounced up.
*”Yeah. Let me change…”*
The beach was packed, everyone bronzed. Emily hesitated before stripping to her swimsuit.
*”Come on. Faster you undress, faster you tan.”* Jack shucked his jeans. His pale legs were almost blue, but he didn’t care—or pretended not to. Emily undressed. Thank God for the high-waisted swimsuit, hiding her soft belly. She envied the long-legged girls with perfect figures.
The sea was warm, gentle. Kids waded in rubber sandals. *”Alfie would struggle here…”*
Of course, she burned fast. Jack barely left the beach. She felt guilty. At lunch, his eyes followed every passing girl. That night, he reached for her.
*”Careful—it hurts.”* Sunburned skin stung under his touch.
He rolled away, stared at the ceiling.
*”Jack, it’s not my fault—”*
He turned sharply to the wall.
*”Wake up, sleepyhead. We’ll lose the sunbeds,”* he whispered the next morning.
Yesterday’s tension seemed gone. Her skin still burned, but she didn’t dare say no. She covered up as much as possible.
On the beach, she slathered on sunscreen. Still, the sun scorched. She shivered.
*”Jack, let’s go back. I’m burning.”*
*”We came to the south to sit inside? Shouldn’t have baked yesterday.”*
*”I wanted to tan faster. I’m going. Stay if you want.”*
He wasn’t listening, eyes fixed on two girls in skimpy swimsuits and hats.
*”I’m leaving.”* She waited, hoping he’d follow. Then left, stumbling on pebbles.
Jack returned hours later, cheerful.
*”Starving. Shower, then dinner?”*
Emily dressed eagerly. Even fabric hurt her burned skin.
At the café, the same girls sat nearby. Jack kept glancing over.
*”They’re pretty,”* Emily said.
*”What?”*
*”The girls. I should get a hat—my nose is burnt.”*
She pictured the scene: her husband ogling strangers. Her appetite vanished. She felt ill.
*”I’m going. Think I’ve got a fever.”*
He caught her outside.
*”What’s your problem?”*
*”Seriously? You’re making me feel like an idiot. Yes, they’re slim. For now. After kids, they’ll look like me—or worse. You stared right in front of me.”*
*”Don’t make a scene,”* he hissed.
Silence back to the hotel. Inside, Jack flopped onIn the end, she realised that happiness wasn’t a holiday or a tan—it was being loved as she was, and if Jack couldn’t do that, then he wasn’t the one to give it to her.
