At 43, Megan’s routine life as a devoted wife takes an unexpected turn. A surprise romantic present for her husband makes her realize that she needs some time alone. She decides to go on a solo trip without him, but on the first night at the hotel, she is woken up by a stranger opening her door.
My name is Megan, and I am 43 years old.
Every day for over ten years, I have woken up early to make breakfast for my husband Neil and also to pack his lunch for work. It was always expected of me to keep the house clean, cook meals, and ensure Neil had everything he needed.
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As is the norm, that morning, I was preparing breakfast for Neil. The kitchen smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon. I placed the eggs on Neil’s plate, just the way he liked them.
Finally, Neil woke up and came into the kitchen. His hair was a mess, and he looked half-asleep. As usual, he greeted me with a mumbled “Morning,” sat down at the table, and started eating.
I watched him for a moment, thinking how many mornings had looked exactly like this one. He would go to work and come back in the evening, tired or smelling of beer because he had stopped by the bar with his colleagues after work.
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But today, I wanted to change that, even if only for a couple of days. “Honey, I have great news for you!” I said, feeling so excited to share this.
Honestly, I had been waiting for this moment. Neil looked up from his plate, a bit more awake now, and asked, “What is it?”
With a smile, I pulled out a pair of plane tickets to Florida for the weekend. “I won them in a radio contest,” I explained, “Tickets for a romantic getaway for two.” I was so excited, but his reaction wasn’t what I expected. Neil was upset, even irritated.
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He put down his fork and shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I can’t go anywhere now. I’ve already arranged to watch a game with my friends this weekend.”
It was so hard for me to hear this; I was sure we would go together and that it was exactly what we needed. Recently, we hadn’t gone out at all, just work and the same old routine.
I wanted to spend time alone with Neil. I tried to hide my disappointment and replied, “Sorry, I’ll sell the tickets. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
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After putting the tickets back into my bag, I saw Neil off as he left for work. We said goodbye, and I felt a mix of sadness and frustration. As the door closed behind him, I wondered why I was always the one making sacrifices.
I called the radio station and asked if it was possible to return the tickets. The woman on the other end sounded surprised.
“We don’t usually have people wanting to return such gifts,” she said. “But I’m sorry, we can’t take the tickets back since there’s too little time to give them away again.”
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Hanging up the phone, I looked at the tickets and thought. Why should I deny myself a vacation because of my husband?
If he doesn’t want to go, that doesn’t mean I have to stay here and cook for him and his damn friends while they watch TV. I felt a spark of determination.
I quickly packed my things because I had to catch the plane that evening. As I zipped up my suitcase, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness.
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I left a note and food for Neil for the weekend, making sure everything he might need was ready. Then, with a deep breath, I left the house.
For the first time in years, I felt free. I walked to the car, my heart pounding with anticipation. I was going to decide for myself how to spend my day tomorrow, and it felt incredible.
It was already very late when I arrived at the hotel. The lobby was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the air conditioning. I approached the reception desk, and the night clerk, a young woman with dark hair and glasses, greeted me with a tired smile.
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“Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”
“I have a reservation,” I said, handing over my ID. She typed into the computer and nodded.
“Here’s your key. Room 302. Have a pleasant stay.”
I took the key, thanked her, and dragged my suitcase to the elevator. The ride up felt endless, my exhaustion weighing down every moment. Finally, I reached my room. The bed looked incredibly inviting. I quickly undressed, letting my clothes fall in a heap, and crawled under the covers. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep.
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Suddenly, I woke up to strange sounds. My heart pounded as I listened carefully. Someone was fiddling with the door. The click of the lock turning sent a jolt of fear through me.
I quickly got up, grabbed a small lamp from the bedside table, and hid behind the wall near the door. At that moment, I wasn’t thinking about anything; my body acted on its own. I wanted to protect myself.
The door opened, and a shadowy figure stepped inside. Without hesitation, I swung the lamp, hitting the intruder on the head as hard as I could. He fell to the floor with a loud thud, groaning in pain.
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“What are you doing, woman!? Who are you?” he shouted, looking up at me in shock. He was more surprised than I was to see a woman in her underwear attacking him.
“What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?” I responded fearfully, still holding the lamp above my head, ready to strike again if necessary.
“Your room? This is my room! I won tickets here from the radio!” he exclaimed, rubbing his head where I had hit him.
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“You’re lying! This was a couples’ contest, and you’re alone!” I snapped back.
“My girlfriend is delayed. She said she’d come tomorrow. And you’re also without a partner!” he retorted.
Suddenly, I realized that everything had gone too far. This was a mistake; the hotel must have had some confusion and given me the wrong key to the room. My fear turned to embarrassment as I lowered the lamp.
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, “This must be a mix-up. Let’s call the front desk.”
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He nodded, still wincing from the pain. I put the lamp down, grabbed some ice from the fridge, wrapped it in a towel, and handed it to him. “Here, for your head.”
We called the front desk, and the administrator apologized profusely. There had been a mistake, and two couples were accidentally assigned to the same room.
They couldn’t move us to different rooms because the hotel was booked, they offered compensation but I still had nowhere to go in the middle of the night.
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I was in despair and very tired. After talking to the man, whose name was Thomas, the only logical solution for me was to spend the night together in the room.
However, if the hotel didn’t solve the problem the next day, I would simply go home early.
“I’m really sorry about all this,” I said again.
“It’s okay,” Thomas replied, managing a small smile. “It’s not your fault.”
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We divided the bed into two halves with pillows and went to sleep. It was very awkward, but I was so tired that I couldn’t think of anything else but sleep.
As I drifted off, I couldn’t help but think about how strange and unexpected this night had turned out to be.
In the morning, I woke up to find that Thomas was still asleep. The morning light streamed through the curtains, highlighting the bruise on his forehead from my lamp blow the previous night.
I felt so ashamed. Carefully, I got out of bed and dressed quietly, not wanting to wake him. I needed to make things right.
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I went downstairs to buy some groceries. The hotel store was small but had everything I needed: bread, eggs, cheese, and a few other essentials. Returning to the room, I quickly made sandwiches and brewed a pot of coffee. The smell filled the room, and I hoped it would serve as a peace offering.
As I set the table, I heard Thomas’s phone ringing. He answered it sleepily, his voice a low mumble. I couldn’t resist eavesdropping.
Suddenly, his tone changed. He sounded upset, his voice very quiet and sad. From the conversation, I understood that he was talking to his girlfriend. My heart sank as I listened to their exchange.
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When he finished the call, I greeted him with a soft “Good morning” and invited him to the kitchen for breakfast. “I’m really sorry about last night,” I said, feeling the need to apologize again. “I was so scared and didn’t think before I acted.”
Thomas managed a small smile. “It’s okay, really. I probably would have done the same in your shoes.”
I noticed his eyes were red, and he seemed on the verge of tears. “If you need to leave early to meet your girlfriend, I completely understand,” I offered.
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But Thomas shook his head. “She’s not coming. She broke up with me this morning.”
My heart ached for him. “I’m so sorry, Thomas,” I said, genuinely feeling his pain. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head again. “No, not really. But thank you for the breakfast. It smells amazing.”
We sat down to eat, and I watched as his mood slowly lifted with each bite. He tried my sandwiches, and a slight smile appeared on his face. “These are really good,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like it.”
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I was relieved to see him smile. “I’m glad you like them,” I replied. “I wanted to make it up to you for the lamp incident.”
Thomas laughed softly, and we started talking about lighter topics. We shared stories from our lives, and I found myself laughing along with him. It was so easy with him.
He was genuinely interested in me, asking about my interests and thoughts. With him, I realized that I was an interesting person and had new things to share. I never felt this way with Neil.
“We should make the most of today,” Thomas said after we finished breakfast. “Since neither of us has any plans, why don’t we explore a bit?”
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I agreed. It would be a shame to waste a free day at the hotel. We walked around the nearby park, admiring the blooming flowers and the serene lake. We talked about everything and nothing, enjoying each other’s company.
In the afternoon, we strolled along the beach, letting the waves lap at our feet. By evening, we decided to visit one of the city’s best restaurants together.
Everything was just wonderful. The food was delicious, and the atmosphere was perfect.
By the end of the day, I realized I would soon have to return to my life. Thomas escorted me back to the room, where we had packed our things and got ready to go home.
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As we stood by the door, saying goodbye, I felt a pang of regret. I wanted to stay with Thomas, but at the same time, I felt ashamed of these thoughts, knowing that my husband was waiting for me at home. Thomas must have sensed my hesitation.
“If you ever want to talk or need a friend, you have my number,” he said softly.
“Thank you, Thomas,” I replied, feeling a lump in my throat. “You’ve made this trip unforgettable.”
He called me a taxi to the airport, and we exchanged numbers. As the taxi drove away, I couldn’t help but think about how much this unexpected encounter had changed me.
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Upon returning home, instead of a loving welcome, I found Neil drunk and angry. The house smelled of stale beer and neglect. He immediately started yelling at me for leaving without his permission, his face red with rage.
“How dare you leave without telling me?” he shouted, slurring his words.
On any other day, I would have stayed silent, trying to avoid a fight. But today, I was a different person. I felt a newfound strength and clarity. “It’s over between us, Neil,” I said firmly, taking off my wedding ring and throwing it on the floor.
The ring made a tiny clinking sound as it hit the tiles, symbolizing the end of our relationship. I didn’t want to spend another day in this house, bound by his expectations and neglect.
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Without another word, I went upstairs, grabbed my suitcase, and packed a few essentials. My heart was pounding, but I felt free.
Taking only my suitcase, I left the house and ordered a taxi. As I sat in the back seat, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
In the car, I called Thomas, my voice trembling with both excitement and fear. “Thomas, it’s Megan. I would like to spend at least one more day with you.”
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His response was immediate and warm. “Nothing would make me happier, Megan.”
This time, I booked a one-way ticket, never to return to the life that had held me back all this time. As the taxi drove away, I looked out the window, feeling hopeful for the future and ready for whatever came next.
