I couldn’t help but wonder what Dave and Lia were up to. Were they sulking in the back, whispering about how to get even?

“I need the bathroom!” Lia suddenly shrieked. Her voice was sharp and desperate, with Dave trailing right behind her.

“Ma’am, you need to return to your seat. The seatbelt sign is still on,” the flight attendant said calmly.

Lia’s expression twisted. “I really can’t hold it! Please, I’m begging!”

Then the same stewardess from earlier walked up — the one who’d already had to deal with them. Her voice was firm. “I already explained the rules. Back to your seats. Or would you like me to get the air marshal involved?”

That shut them down. Without another word, they turned around and trudged back to their seats in economy, completely deflated.

As we started our descent into California, I felt more than just relief — it was quiet satisfaction. And as I walked off the plane, I saw them standing near the gate, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

As I walked past their row, I couldn’t help myself. “Hope today taught you something. Have a lovely honeymoon!”

Dave’s face flushed deep red, but he stayed quiet. Good call.

I stepped off the plane feeling satisfied, ready to enjoy my trip.
There they were — my wife and kid, beaming as soon as they saw me. Just like that, Dave and Lia were forgotten. I was back where I belonged. That’s what really mattered.