When we hired a new nanny, everything seemed perfect at first. She was young, kind, and seemed to understand Brady right away. But very soon, I noticed something strange—the way she looked at my husband, Sean. And Sean… he started acting differently around her. At first, I thought she was after Sean, trying to steal him away from me. But I was wrong. What she really wanted was something much closer to my heart.
No one had ever warned me that becoming a mother would feel like adding another full-time job on top of the one I already had. And this job? It never ends.
Before Brady came into my life, everything had revolved around my work. I had worked hard, building a solid career, and even after getting married, I refused to quit. I wanted to stay independent, to be equal with Sean. And for a long time, I succeeded.
But becoming a mother? That was something I could not do.
For ten long years, Sean and I tried everything to have a baby. Nothing worked. My eggs were weak—like those of a woman much older than me. We spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on treatments, on IVF. Every time, it ended in heartbreak.
Sean suggested surrogacy, but I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Then one day, at the hospital, everything changed. I saw a tiny baby wrapped in blankets, so small and fragile. The nurse told me his biological mother had given him up. Something inside me clicked.
That night, I told Sean, “Let’s bring him home. Let’s make him ours.” And just like that, Brady became our son.
I had saved sixteen weeks of vacation, so I took them all to care for Brady. It was the hardest time of my life.
I was exhausted, weak, and lost. My life didn’t feel like mine anymore. I barely slept. I didn’t even have time to shower. The house was a mess. Brady cried nonstop and would only fall asleep in the car.
But little by little, we learned each other’s rhythms. I started sleeping when he slept. I played music to soothe him so he would sleep not just in the car but at home, too. I asked Sean to take care of him sometimes so I could catch a shower.
After those sixteen weeks, I hired a nanny to help while I worked from home. Life got easier. But when Brady was almost three, Carmen, our nanny, left us—and chaos came back.
Brady was in daycare during the day, but I still needed someone in the afternoons and evenings when I worked late. I loved being a mother more than anything, but I didn’t want to lose my independence or the career I had fought so hard to build.
Sean and I promised Brady the best life: a safe home, a good education, and a happy childhood. So we searched for a new nanny.
We interviewed so many women I lost count. Some were too strict; others too careless. None felt right. Sean rejected every single one quickly, barely giving them a chance.
I started feeling hopeless. Would we ever find someone trustworthy?
Then Emily showed up at our door.
She was young, fresh out of college, but there was something special about her—a warm smile, a natural way with Brady. He loved her immediately. And honestly, so did I. Sean and I hired her that same day.
For a while, everything was perfect. Brady adored Emily. I saw how gently she cared for him, like he was her own child.
Sean and I finally had some breathing room to focus on work. Life felt normal again.
But soon, little things started to bother me. Sean began working from home more often, and he pushed me to go to the office more to “relax.”
I caught them exchanging glances that lasted just a little too long. Sean was always on his phone, smiling at messages he never showed me.
At first, I was confused, but the pieces slowly fit together.
Sean had wanted Emily for the nanny job from the start, even though he had rejected all the others.
Emily and Brady grew very close—he cried when she left, and it felt like she was replacing me.
One morning, as I was getting ready for work, Emily was already there, playing with Brady.
I peeked into the nursery and saw them sculpting with playdough.
“I want to make a yellow elephant,” Brady said.
Emily giggled, kneading the dough. “Like the sun, right?”
Brady nodded, and Emily handed him some soft yellow dough.
Then Brady said something that stopped me cold.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
My heart dropped.
My son had just called another woman “Mom.” He didn’t even try to correct himself.
I felt my knees weaken. I forced a smile, trying to stay calm.
“Emily, can I talk to you for a moment?” I said.
“Of course,” she replied and walked over.
“Why is Brady calling you Mom?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Oh, kids say things like that sometimes. It was just an accident,” Emily said.
“But you didn’t correct him,” I said.
“I didn’t pay attention,” she shrugged.
I took a deep breath. “Please tell me the truth. Is there something between you and Sean? Do you want to take my husband? My child? My family?”
Emily looked shocked. “Regina, no! I would never think of that. Brady just said it by accident. If it happens again, I will correct him.”
“Alright,” I said and left for work.
Sean stayed home that day. I felt like I was losing my mind, like I was missing something obvious. So I decided to come home early—without telling anyone.
The house was quiet when I walked in. Brady must have been napping. Then I heard noises from Sean’s office.
I crept upstairs, careful not to make a sound.
When I opened the door, I froze.
Sean and Emily were standing too close—too close for just a father and nanny.
“What is going on here?!” I shouted.
“Regina, you’re home early,” Sean said calmly.
“Is that all you’re going to say?” I asked.
“It’s all Emily,” Sean blurted out. “She said she wants to be with me.”
Emily didn’t say a word, but I saw her nervous eyes. Her eyebrows shot up when Sean said that.
“Emily, say something!” I demanded.
She stayed silent, unable to meet my eyes.
“Don’t you see what’s going on? The secret looks, Sean working from home all the time, the texts you hide from me,” I said.
“Regina, you misunderstood,” Sean said quickly. “It’s all Emily’s idea. I love only you.”
“Give me your phone,” I said.
“Regina…” he started.
“Give it to me now!” I shouted.
With a shaky hand, Sean handed over his phone.
“What’s the password?” I demanded.
“Stop it, don’t do this,” he said.
“Now!”
“4321,” he muttered.
I unlocked the phone, expecting to find chats full of messages from Emily—maybe photos.
Instead, I found dating apps and chats with dozens of women. The conversation with Emily had only messages from Sean—inviting her to dinner or drinks when I wasn’t home.
Emily only answered about Brady, ignoring everything else.
I handed the phone back, feeling numb.
“Emily, huh?” I said bitterly.
“Regina, I can explain. I made a mistake,” Sean pleaded.
“Get out!” I shouted.
“Please,” he begged.
“Get out! Now!” I screamed.
Sean looked at me for a long moment, then stormed out. The front door slammed behind him.
I sank into a chair, finally letting out a long breath.
Emily just stood there, frozen.
After a few minutes, I asked, “Is Brady asleep?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
Then after another pause, Emily spoke.
“Please don’t fire me. I really need this job.”
“Who said anything about firing you?” I asked.
She smiled faintly, but Brady’s soft whimper interrupted us, and Emily went to him.
I stared at the wall, knowing a tough divorce and custody battle were coming.
That evening, while I prepared for the first hearing the next day, Emily sat beside me feeding Brady.
Then I heard it again.
“Mom, I want some water.”
Brady looked at Emily, not me.
At first, Emily didn’t react. When she saw me watching, she quickly said, “Brady, here’s your mom. And I’m Emily.”
“No! You’re my mom too!” Brady shouted.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I… I don’t know,” Emily stammered.
“Emily said I was in her tummy!” Brady shouted.
“What?!” I gasped.
Emily covered her face with her hands.
“Are you Brady’s biological mother?” I asked.
She was silent for a moment.
“Emily!” I raised my voice.
“Y-yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier, but I didn’t know how. Please don’t kick me out. I just wanted to spend time with him.”
“You knew Brady was your son when you came to work for us?” I asked.
“Yes,” Emily said.
“You gave him up and then came back to take him?” I asked.
“No, I just wanted to be near him, to see how he lives. I gave him up because I couldn’t give him a good life. You give him everything. I see how much you love him. I just…” Emily paused, struggling.
“You had no right to do this,” I said.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Leave, please,” I said.
Emily hesitated but then stood up, heading for the door.
“Please, let me see him again,” she said before closing the door behind her.
I wanted to cry. Betrayal, divorce, and now this—Emily, Brady’s birth mother, had been close to him all along.
I picked Brady up from his high chair and held him tight, rocking him gently. I wasn’t sure who needed it more—him or me.
That night, I took Brady to bed with me, but sleep didn’t come. My mind raced with thoughts.
I looked at Brady and felt all the love in the world for him.
I was ready to lose everything except him.
Emily had given him up to give him a better life, and I couldn’t stop thinking about that.
As a mother, I was angry at Emily, but I understood her too.
I took my phone and opened the chat with Emily.
I stared at the screen for a long time, unable to type a single word.
Finally, I wrote: You can see Brady whenever you want, but remember that I am his mom too.
Emily’s reply came instantly: I am incredibly grateful to you!
I turned off the phone and held Brady close.
He was my world. I would do anything to protect him.
