Ever since I found out about my husband's affair, I've had a real wake-up call—depending on anyone else is a dead end. From here on out, it's just me and my kid. I'm doing this on my own.
Well, the day finally came. My husband got back from his so-called business trip.
"Sweetie, Daddy's home!"
The second he walked through that door, he put on this whole daddy-of-the-year act, sweeping our kid up into his arms like some kind of hero.
I couldn't help but wonder—did it ever cross his mind what it meant to be a father while he was tangled up in some other woman's sheets?
He noticed I was quieter than usual and must've thought I was feeling left out, because he flashed me that familiar smile and moved in for a hug.
I took a half-step back, smooth and easy, just out of his reach.
"Go get cleaned up," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Dinner's ready."
Then I took our child back into my arms, holding on just a little tighter than before.
Lucky for me, he didn't have a clue. Just trotted off to the bathroom, all cheerful and clueless.
We sat down to eat. I kept my face calm, my voice even. Then I looked right at him and asked, "So… is there anything you're not telling me?"