“Not for you.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s for me, for Jackson, for Coreen. But you? You’re nothing. Why should I waste a ticket on you?”
My throat burned. “But… what about me? I’m your wife.”
Oliver sneered. “And why should that matter? You haven’t contributed a single thing to this family’s success. You have no money, no business, no class. Look at you—no decent clothes to wear, your body getting bigger every day from eating too much. Do you know how embarrassing it would be to bring you in front of my business partners? Beatrice shines. You’re just… trash.”
My knees wobbled. My chest tightened. “It’s because of the stress… I’ve been working too much in the house. I’m tired—”
“So now you’re blaming me?” His voice rose. “You chose this life. You chose to rot here. You should have been like Beatrice—independent, smart, valuable. Instead, you’re nothing.”
Each word pierced me deeper than a knife. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but my lips only trembled, and my tears betrayed me.
“You don’t deserve a cruise,” he spat. “So stay here. Prepare everything for us before we leave.” Then, without another glance, he stormed out—taking my last hope with him.