I always believed the happiest day of my life would be when I gave birth to our daughter. Michael and I had dreamed of that moment for months—he promised he’d be right there beside me, holding my hand, whispering encouragement as we welcomed our first child. We planned everything together, down to the music that would play when she arrived and the tiny hat he’d place on her head. But when the day finally came, Michael was nowhere to be found.
As I lay in that hospital bed, my contractions getting stronger, I kept staring at the door, expecting him to rush in any second. But all that came were sympathetic smiles from nurses and silence from his phone. My mother held my hand instead, her face tight with concern. She didn’t say much, just told me to focus on Emily and rest. But I could tell she was hiding something.
Two days later, discharged from the hospital and still healing, I returned home hoping—praying—Michael would be there with an apology and an explanation. Instead, I opened the front door to silence. I called out his name, but the house felt deserted. I ran upstairs, clutching my newborn, hoping to find him in the nursery.
What I found instead was a room that looked stripped of life. The crib remained, but the stuffed animals, baby clothes, and blankets we had picked out together were gone. Inside the crib lay a single note.
“I love you and our baby, Elena. But I have to leave forever. Ask your mom why she did this. I’ve taken some of Emily’s things to remember you both.”
I stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of it. What had my mother done?
I stormed downstairs, heart pounding, still gripping the note. My mom sat on the couch, gently rocking Emily, as if nothing was wrong.
“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the paper at her. “What did you do?”
She looked at me, her expression unreadable. Then finally, she spoke.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this… but I had to confront him, Elena. I overheard him talking to someone—his boss. They were planning to meet at a motel. He admitted everything.”
I shook my head. “No. Michael wouldn’t do that. He was excited about this baby. About us.”
She placed a hand on my arm. “He’s been having an affair, darling. She offered him things we couldn’t. Money. A lifestyle. The promotion, the new car—it wasn’t just his hard work. It was her.”
