My husband and I had been dreaming of going on vacation for ages, but it just never worked out. Then suddenly — miracle! — we finally managed to free up a few days.

We bought plane tickets at the very last minute, which meant we ended up in different rows. I didn’t really mind; what mattered was that we’d soon be by the sea together. Being apart for two hours wasn’t a big deal.

I boarded the plane and looked for my seat. As I passed by my husband’s row, I caught a glimpse of who was sitting next to him: a young woman, maybe twenty, wearing ultra-short denim shorts, bright red lipstick, and eyelashes like fans.
I’m not the jealous type, so I just smiled to myself: Fine, let her sit there.

But about half an hour after takeoff, I realized she was behaving… let’s just say far too familiar.

She was whispering little things into his ear with a playful tone, laughing at every single word he said, even when he only gave brief replies.

Every so often she would “accidentally” touch his hand, ask him to pass her water, or reach for her bag under the seat.

My husband was polite, acting like a gentleman, but he showed no interest whatsoever. I could have ignored it—until she suddenly stretched out her long legs over the seat in front of her, right in front of my husband’s face, as if she were deliberately showing off every curve of her body.

That was the last straw. I wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer, and I decided it was time to teach her a lesson.