Christmas morning stopped cold when my five-year-old opened a gift and yelled that his “other mom” had kept her promise. My husband went pale. He knew exactly who she was — and the longer he hesitated, the more I realized this wasn’t a misunderstanding.
My husband and I had been together for six years.
We had one child, a five-year-old boy named Simon.
Life wasn’t perfect, but it felt stable and predictable.
There had been small cracks, of course. Every marriage has them.
There were moments when my husband seemed distracted, distant, but I didn’t think they were red flags… I was wrong.
I really should’ve paid more attention after the babysitter fiasco from earlier that year.
See, we’d been drifting for a while, so we started having weekly date nights to reignite our spark.
One of Mike’s colleagues recommended a babysitter, a young woman in college, and everything was great at first. We enjoyed our dates, and Simon liked the babysitter.
Then Mike told me we needed to fire her.
“I think she has a crush on me,” he told me.
“Whenever we’re alone in a room together, she says things…”
Mike had shrugged.
“She likes my suit, or the scent of my cologne… nothing crazy, but it’s a little weird.”
So, we let her go.
At the time, I appreciated the fact that he came to me and raised his concerns. It felt reassuring, like proof we were still a team, still paying attention.
I ignored the little voice in the back of my head that whispered he hadn’t told me the full story.
I figured it was just jealousy speaking. That I was being paranoid.
I know now that I was being a fool.
I thought the hard parts were behind us.
I got comfortable and stopped checking over my shoulder.
I thought routine meant safety.
Christmas morning proved me wrong.
It started out like normal: wrapping paper everywhere, coffee getting cold on the side table, and Simon bouncing around with that kind of excitement that only comes once a year.
All the gifts under the tree were ones we’d planned together… or so I thought.
My husband handed our son a medium-sized box and said, “This one’s from Santa.”
I smiled. We always saved one special gift for the Santa reveal.
It was tradition.
Our son tore into it and froze for a second.
Then his face lit up like someone had plugged him into an electrical socket.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
TAP → NEXT PAGE → 👇
