The "Legoland" Incident

My sister had asked if I could drive her and her family to Billund airport when they were going on holiday. I agreed. When it turned out that they would go to the Legoland theme park the day before flying away on holiday, and stay the night at the airport hotel, we talked about maybe going all of us. However the weather turned out to be not very good, and B. was suffering from nausea and vomiting. Before I left home she was barely able to eat or drink, and vomited even the little water she was able to drink. She would cry and point to some tiny red specks in the vomit, saying, "Look, I am vomiting blood!" While giving the impression that she was on the verge of dying, she also said that this was what it was like every day after I went off to work. She went back to bed, and we agreed that I would only take my sister's family to Billund, and not go into the theme park with them.

The day before she had herself said that it would probably take about three hours, as it would take about one hour driving each way, and the rest would be the taken up by the neverending slowness and waiting she was always accusing my family of.

It did indeed take three hours from I left home till I was back again. Some time was spent waiting at my sister's house, some time I was waiting at a supermarket where they had to buy something, and quite a lot of time was spent waiting while they checked in at the airport hotel, dropping off the luggage before going to the theme park. I dropped them off at the theme park, and called B. to say that I was on my way home now, just to get a scolding for taking so long and not being on my way home sooner.

When I got home, she was very angry that I had taken so long, leaving her alone "to die", just for something as unimportant as taking my sister's family to the airport. The final straw to her was on hearing that I hadn't just dropped them off at the airport hotel, but had waited for them, and drived them to the theme park afterwards. I had abandonned her, left her to die miserably, I should have understood that in reality she never wanted me to leave, but rather to tell my sister that they could take themselves to the airport, that I had a wife who was ill, who needed my care. She wanted divorce, she wanted to kill herself, if it wasn't for the baby. She wanted to throw me out of the house, "go live with your mom", but as I refused she instead took her bed linen and her laptop, and moved to the guest room, where she stayed for a couple of hours. Only when she had to go to the bathroom to vomit again did she come out. When she returned from the bathroom she was crawling on all four, and complaining to the dog of how bad I treated her.