Chapter 4

When Maura saw that I'd finally come around, her whole face softened with relief.

"You've finally wised up."

"Being generous is the best calling card a woman can have. As my husband, you should support that."

"If there's not enough money at home, then work harder. Put in more overtime. And if that's still not enough, you can always pick up a second job."

My father-in-law and mother-in-law nodded along.

"Exactly. When something goes wrong, look at yourself first. Having a wife as good as Maura is a privilege for you."

"Don't spend all day trying to slack off and eyeing her money."

I smiled a little and said nothing more.

Maura checked the time, then sent a voice message to the family group chat.

"Everyone, dinner's almost here. Make sure you get to the hotel on time. As always, everything's on me tonight, so don't you dare try to save me money."

She sent the message, then lifted her head and glanced at me, her tone flat.

"Come on, let's go eat together."

"All the relatives will be there tonight. Don't sit there with that long face and embarrass me."

I shook my head.

"I've got some work things to handle. I'll pass."

Maura started to say something else, but her parents were already at the door with our daughter, urging her on.

"Hurry up, Maura. Your uncle texted that everyone's nearly there."

"We're all just waiting on you."

Our daughter was already calling out, unable to wait.

"Come on, Mommy, I can't wait to eat lobster."

Maura looked at me once more. She probably figured I'd only put a damper on things, so all she said, coldly, was:

"Then stay home by yourself and clean the place up."

With that, the four of them walked out the door, happy as could be.

I watched their backs disappear, then quietly pulled out my phone.

Three days ago, my manager had sent me a message.

"George, the company's got a one-year residential training program at headquarters."

"Spots are extremely hard to come by. Finish it, and you come back promoted straight to director, with your salary several times what it is now."

"Leadership all thinks you've worked incredibly hard these past few years and you're a perfect fit for the spot. Want to think it over?"

What I'd replied at the time was:

"Manager Chavez, my in-laws are in poor health, my kid's still little, and the family can't do without me. I probably can't go."

It wasn't that I didn't want to go. It was that I truly couldn't put this family down.

Because the training was fully residential. For one year, no going home, no touching your phone, no contact with anyone on the outside.

A whole year with no one earning money at home. Who'd buy my father-in-law's medicine? Who'd take my mother-in-law to her follow-ups? Who'd pay our daughter's tuition? Who'd cover the mortgage and the car loan?

Manager Chavez thought it was a shame, and added:

"Don't rush to turn it down. This is a really good opportunity. Give it some serious thought."

Thinking back on it now, I'd been a fool.

To think I'd nearly given up a chance this good, a chance to polish my whole future, for a group of people who never treated me like family at all.

I took a deep breath and typed out a few words.

"Manager Chavez, I've decided to do the residential training. When do I leave?"

Manager Chavez replied almost instantly.

"I've been waiting for you to say that!"

"Tonight is the final departure time. Just get your paperwork submitted to me now."

I sent back "Okay," then scrambled to get my materials together and turned them in.

Manager Chavez moved fast too, and booked me a flight for that same night.

I threw together a quick bag and took an Uber to the airport alone.

By the time the plane landed, it was the dead of night.

The moment I turned my phone on, it flooded with missed calls and messages from Maura.

"George, everyone ate a bit much tonight and there isn't enough on my card. Get to the hotel and pay the bill for me, quick."

"And bring a few boxes of my parents' medicine while you're at it. They're all out, and they're feeling really awful right now."

"Why aren't you here yet? The preschool teacher just called and said today is the final deadline for our daughter's tuition. If it's not paid today, she'll be forced to withdraw!"