Motherhood had drained every bit of energy from me, and my husband, Nate, seemed to understand. Every evening, like clockwork, he took our baby, Caleb, for a walk, giving me a chance to rest. It was a sweet, thoughtful gesture, one I appreciated deeply. I trusted him completely.
But one night, he left his phone behind, and when I went to return it, I discovered something that shattered my world.
A New Routine
Caleb was six months old, and motherhood had been both a blessing and a challenge. The sleepless nights, the endless crying, and the constant worry—it was a whirlwind of emotions I had never experienced before. Through it all, Nate had been my rock. He had reassured me, comforted me, and promised to support me through everything.
“You look exhausted,” he said one evening, walking through the door after work. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up. He kissed my forehead as I bounced Caleb in my arms.
I let out a tired laugh. “That obvious, huh?”
Nate took Caleb from me, smiling. “How about this? Every evening, I’ll take him for a walk. You need a break, Monica. Some time for yourself.”
I blinked, surprised. “You’d do that?”
“Of course. You deserve it. Plus, I miss spending time with him during the day.”
That night, I took my first long bath in months, listening to the quietness of the house. For the first time in a while, I felt truly grateful for my husband.
“How was the walk?” I asked when he returned, placing a sleeping Caleb in his crib.
“Great. Really great,” Nate said, looking happier than he had in months. “We should make this our thing.”
And so, it became a routine. Every evening, Nate would take Caleb out in his stroller, and I would get some time to myself.
But over time, something felt… off.
The First Clue
Every time Nate came back from his walk, he looked refreshed. Too refreshed. As if he had just returned from a vacation rather than a simple stroll with a baby.
“You really enjoy these walks, don’t you?” I asked one night as he placed Caleb in his crib.
“Best part of my day,” he replied, not meeting my eyes.
His words should have reassured me, but instead, I felt a strange unease settle in my chest.
Then came the night that changed everything.
The Discovery
Nate had just left for his usual walk when his phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. I glanced at the screen and saw his boss’s name.
“He forgot his phone,” I murmured. “I’ll just run it over to him.”
I grabbed my coat and hurried outside, expecting to catch up with him at the park. But when I spotted him, he wasn’t heading there at all. Instead, he was walking toward downtown, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
I followed at a distance, my heart pounding.
Then I saw her.
A tall, stunning brunette approached Nate outside a coffee shop. She smiled at him in a way that sent chills down my spine. She leaned down, cooing at my baby, before kissing Nate on the cheek.
My hands clenched into fists as I watched them walk inside together, her hand resting comfortably on the stroller handle. Like they’d done this a hundred times before.
The Truth Unfolds
That night, I didn’t confront him. I needed to be sure.
“How was your walk?” I asked casually when he returned.
“Same as always,” he said, not looking up as he unbuckled Caleb. “The park was nice.”
The ease with which he lied made my stomach turn.
The next evening, I followed him again. This time, I was prepared.
I sat at a nearby table outside the coffee shop, a newspaper hiding my face. I watched as he leaned in close to her, his smile wide and easy.
I couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.
The Trap
The next day, while Nate was at work, I went to the toy store and bought a plastic baby doll, one that looked eerily close to Caleb’s size. I wrapped it in Caleb’s favorite blanket and hid a small baby monitor beneath it.
When Nate returned that evening, he didn’t even glance into the stroller before heading out.
“Enjoy your walk,” I called after him.
“We always do,” he said.
I waited five minutes, then followed, holding the receiver tightly in my hand.
At the coffee shop, I hid behind a planter and raised the volume.
“Are you sure this is okay?” the woman’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I feel guilty.”
“It’s fine,” Nate said. “She doesn’t suspect a thing. I told you—she’s too exhausted from the baby to notice.”
My breath hitched.
“And how long are you going to pretend you love her? Until Caleb grows up?”
Nate chuckled. “No, babe. Until she gets her inheritance. Then I’ll take my cut for being such a ‘wonderful husband.’ She’ll give me the money without a second thought.”
My grip on the receiver tightened.
Enough.
I stormed toward their table. “Oh, don’t stop on my account.”
Nate’s head snapped up. His face turned ghostly white. “Monica?!”
I yanked the blanket off the stroller, revealing the plastic doll.
“What the hell is this?” Nate gasped.
“Interesting question,” I said, arms crossed. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
The woman’s face paled. “Nate, you said she knew—”
“Knew what?” I snapped. “That my husband is using our son as a prop to cheat on me? That he’s planning to milk me for money?”
She looked horrified. “I… I didn’t—”
“Feel guilty? Good,” I said. “Because this? This is what you were helping him destroy.”
I pulled off my wedding ring and dropped it onto the table with a final clink.
“I hope you’re happy together,” I whispered. “Because you just lost the best thing you ever had.”
I turned and walked away.
Nate called after me, but I never looked back.
Moving Forward
The divorce was quick. Nate didn’t contest custody. He signed the papers and disappeared.
Three months later, my friend called. “You won’t believe what I just saw—your ex getting dumped in the middle of the street.”
The woman had moved on. Nate had been the side piece all along.
I laughed. “Send me the video.”
A year passed. I rebuilt my life. One day, I ran into Nate at the grocery store. He looked older, worn down.
“Monica,” he said, looking at Caleb. “He’s gotten so big.”
“Children do that,” I replied.
“I’ve been thinking—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Save it.”
He swallowed hard. “I messed up.”
“Yes, you did.” I lifted Caleb into the cart. “Goodbye, Nate.”
As we walked away, Caleb waved. “Bye-bye!”
I didn’t turn around. Some chapters are meant to stay closed. And some betrayals? They write their own endings.
