Paige loves her job, even though she has to be away from home a lot. One day, while returning from a business trip, she overheard a cryptic conversation between her husband and her four-year-old son. Little did she know, her marriage was about to be ruined.
When I think about the foundations of my life, three have always stood out: my husband, Victor, my son, Mason, and my career. Despite the storms Victor and I have weathered together, including four heartbreaking miscarriages, we have emerged stronger than before the storm.
At least that’s what I thought.
A couple sitting together | Source: Pexels
Victor and I were a strong, supportive couple—we knew what worked for us and what didn’t. Especially when it came to healing from the miscarriages we had survived.
“It’s okay, Paige,” Victor kept reminding me. “We’ll have our baby when the time comes. If not, there are other options.”
I still smiled at him, wondering when his words would come true.
But then a pregnancy test came back positive. And three months later, our baby was still thriving inside my belly.
A woman holding a pregnancy test | Source: Pexels
So when Mason came into our lives, we felt like our shattered dreams had finally been restored. Mason became the one thing we focused on unconditionally. Whenever our son needed us, we dropped everything.
“Mason is a lucky kid,” Victor said one day as Mason ran around our yard. “He is incredibly loved.”
And he was. Victor and I prided ourselves on taking care of our son first and foremost.
A little boy holding a tree | Source: Pexels
With my demanding role as CEO of a clothing brand, travel was an integral part of my life. I was involved in every step of our product development—all the way to the point where our clothes were sold in stores.
Often, this led me to leave Victor and Mason to fend for themselves. But it wasn’t something I worried about—Victor was the perfect father. He even adjusted his work schedule so he could work more from home. That way, he was there for Mason.
“I don’t want a babysitter or a nanny looking after our son,” Victor said one day while he was cooking dinner for us.
“If you can take care of the days, then the evenings are mine,” I said as a compromise.
Matching clothes and accessories | Source: Pexels
I felt bad that Victor had to hold down the fort during the day, but we had no other choice.
Recently, because Mason is four and still so curious, I know preschool is on the horizon. So, in an attempt to be more present and spend more time with him as a toddler, I’ve vowed to limit my work trips.
But I had no idea that it was during my absence that my family would be broken up.
A mother with her son in the bathroom | Source: Pexels
I’d been gone for about three days, stuck in meetings, and all I wanted to do was go home and hold Mason, smelling like the baby fabric softener on his clothes.
The day that changed everything was like any other. I took a taxi to the airport and eagerly awaited the arrival of my husband and son.
When I entered, the house was eerily quiet, with footsteps upstairs.
Victor’s voice was muffled but urgent—the same urgency Mason associated with bad behavior and bedtime.
An empty house with open doors | Source: Pexels
“Mason, you have to promise me one thing, okay?” Victor said.
“Okay,” Mason mutters innocently. “What is it?”
“You have to promise me you’ll never tell Mom what you saw.”
“But I don’t like secrets,” Mason said. “Why can’t I tell Mom?”
Victor heaved a deep sigh – he walked around the house, as if carried by the air.
“It’s not a secret, Mason,” he said. “But if we tell Mom, it’ll make her sad. You want Mom to be sad, buddy?”
It was my son’s turn to sigh.
“No, I don’t want to,” he said.
A child playing with toys | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath, feeling the conversation was over. From my spot halfway up the stairs, I put down my bags and called out.
“Mason! Victor! Mom is home!” I called.
“We are here,” Victor shouted.
I walked into Mason’s room and found Victor sitting on his bed, while our son was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his toys.
“What’s going on?” I asked, Mason jumping into my arms.
“Nothing, honey,” Victor said with a wink. “It’s just boy talk. Welcome home.”
Victor stood up and kissed my head as he left.
A woman hugging her son | Source: Pexels
“I have to get back to work,” he said.
I was disturbed for the rest of the evening. I wanted to believe Victor—that the conversation I had overheard was really nothing important.
It’s probably Victor trying to hide the fact that he gave Mason too much sugar or junk food in general, I thought.
After all, Victor had never given me any reason to doubt him. Yet that night, sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, and when I couldn’t fall asleep, I scrolled through my phone, wanting to see how our new clothing line was doing.
A man sitting with his laptop | Source: Pexels
I tried to keep my mind as occupied as possible. But Victor’s whispered words haunted me—would something as simple as eating the wrong food make me “sad”?
Something was wrong, I knew it.
The week-long business trip that followed was pure torture. I loved my job, and I loved working on the new campaign we were launching. But I hated being away from Mason for so long. Victor’s daily photos of Mason were my only comfort, until one of them raised more questions than answers.
Victor had sent me a series of photos—in each one, my son was playing with a new toy. But in one of the photos, there was a pair of blue shoes in the background. They weren’t mine. And yet, there they were, in my living room.
A woman holding her phone | Source: Pexels
They were taunting me.
My heart raced as I scrolled through previous photos, trying to find other signs of betrayal that I had missed in the joy of seeing my son.
The flight home was a blur. I sat in my seat and scrolled through the incriminating photos—about six of them, together, with evidence that another woman was constantly in our house. I drank champagne to calm my nerves.
I knew the moment I walked into my house, everything would change. Either my husband would admit there was someone else in his life—or that a nanny was taking care of our son.
A nanny with expensive shoes , I thought.
A pair of blue suede shoes | Source: Pexels
I walked into the house, leaving my luggage in the living room. The house was quiet again—but that made sense. It was Mason’s nap time.
I entered my son’s room first. He was barely waking up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Hi, baby,” I said, kissing her head.
Before he could answer, muffled noises were heard from inside my room.
“Isn’t Dad downstairs?” I asked, getting up.
Mason looked at me for a moment too long.
“Mom, don’t go in there. You’ll be sad,” he warned, his words echoing the secret pact I had heard.
Close-up of a little boy | Source: Unsplash
Fueled by a mixture of fear and anger, I approached my room. The muffled noises coming from inside were confirmation enough. I braced myself and opened the door.
Victor swore.
The woman disentangled herself from my husband and my bedding.
“Paige!” he exclaimed, sitting up in bed. “It’s not what you think!”
I laughed.
“Do I look that stupid?” I asked him, before feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
The woman picked up her clothes and locked herself in our bathroom.
A couple in bed | Source: Unsplash
The ensuing confrontation was a blur of tears, accusations, and heartbreak. Victor tried to deny everything—he was a charming man. And I knew that if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I probably would have believed his lies.
“I have nothing else to say to you,” I said.
“What did you expect, Paige?” Victor asked me later.
The woman had run away, and I had to face the man I no longer knew.
“You’re never here,” he fumed. “You’re never here. And when you’re home, you spend all your time at Mason’s or working. What about me?”
I listened to Victor continue to say that he was the victim in the story.
Close-up of a serious man | Source: Pexels
“I need human contact too,” he said. “And I don’t know what you do when you’re flying all over the country. I bet you have stories too.”
Mason had been put back to bed, and his bedroom door was closed—all in an attempt to prevent my son from losing any more of his innocence.
“No, Victor,” I said. “I’m not you. My vows meant something to me.”
After that, I walked around the block. I felt guilty for leaving Mason with Victor again. But I needed a moment. I felt betrayed—yes, I worked all the time. I couldn’t deny it. But my job also supported our household—it wasn’t just Victor’s job to provide for us.
And then what about Mason? How long was my son exposed to this?
When was Mason forced to keep his father’s infidelity a secret?
I felt sick to my stomach.
A woman walking outdoors | Source: Pexels
How many women were there?
How many had Mason seen?
I knew Victor was a good father—but how good could he be if this was the life he was living in front of his son?
I came home and made dinner. Victor was stuck in the office, sitting behind his computer. He was furious. I could feel it. But I knew it was because he’d been caught.
A woman cooking | Source: Unsplash
Afterward, when I told my family about the ordeal, their embrace brought me some comfort. My parents encouraged me to move Victor.
“Let him go,” my father told me. “You and Mason need to stay comfortable.”
Eventually, Victor moved his things. But he still denied the affair—apparently, I didn’t know what I’d seen.
At least he didn’t contest the divorce.
“He’s trying to save what’s left of his dignity,” my mother said over the phone.
Reflecting on the secret conversation that had started it all, I realized the signs had been there all along. I had chosen to see only the best in Victor, constantly ignoring the whispers of doubt.
Now, armed with the bitter truth, I was determined to rebuild, not only for my sake, but for Mason’s as well.
A certificate of divorce | Source: Pixabay
Now I have to be stronger and smarter.
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