Steve starts his day like any other — just a man saying goodbye to his wife before heading off to work. But as the day progresses, he receives urgent calls and texts from his child. When he arrives home, nothing is as it seems. He finds a strange man in his home, a pregnant wife, and a sobbing youngster. What does all this mean?
The day began like any other. My wife, three months pregnant, kissed me goodbye as I left for work, her smile as comforting as the morning sun. “I’ll cook when I get home,” I assured her. “Don’t worry about it.”
Laura worked from home, so I knew she’d get our kid, Jackson, ready for school and out the door before returning to bed. Before starting work, she would read a novel and sip her morning tea. I spent the day reviewing marketing ideas and listening to presentations, all the while thinking of baby names for our upcoming addition. But as the office clock passed two, my phone vibrated insistently. My son’s name flashed on the screen. I was in the middle of a meeting, so I had to silence his call.
Knowing Jackson, he was probably wondering if he could go out after school. He and his buddies had recently discovered bowling and frequently wanted to join after-school activities. When my phone lit up a second time, a knot formed in my stomach. The text message from Jackson, sent seconds after my second missed call, read: “Dad, please come home! It’s about Mom! I’m scared.” Panic immediately overtook me. Excusing myself from the meeting, I rushed to the parking lot, my fingers trembling as I tried calling my son.
But Jackson didn’t answer. I called my wife next, but she also didn’t pick up. With my heart pounding, I pressed the pedal, my mind racing with terrifying possibilities. Every red light felt like an eternity, and every slow driver tested my patience. I was imagining the worst. Perhaps Laura had an accident, and there was a pool of blood in the kitchen or bathroom.
When I turned onto our street and saw my mother standing on the porch, her face pale, my breath caught. She stood there, her hands clenching and unclenching. “What on earth is going on?” I asked. “Is Laura okay?”
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” she replied, her voice trembling and the ground slipping beneath me. “What happened? Is it the baby? Tell me!” My mother’s next words were unexpected and hit me like a ton of bricks.
“No, she’s fine,” my mother said. “Then why did you apologize?” I asked, still on the porch instead of rushing inside to see my wife. My mother’s demeanor made me uneasy. I placed my briefcase at my feet, waiting for her to explain. “I’m sorry because I didn’t want to be the one to tell you,” she said. “But Laura has been cheating on you.”
The world stopped spinning. The betrayal cut through the shock. It turned out my mother had come over to use our restroom. “My building had a water outage, and I just wanted to take a shower,” she continued. “When I walked in, there she was with him.” My mother found Laura on the couch with the man she was cheating with. She couldn’t bear to let him leave before I got home.
Raging and miserable, I pushed past my mother into the house. The scene before me — a scruffy, awkward man trying to avoid my gaze — felt like a nightmare.
“Who are you?” I snarled at the man in my living room. He began to talk, but I couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in my ears. Then Laura emerged. My wife. Her face was pale, eyes filled with tears. She reached out to me, a gesture once so familiar but now so alien. “Steve, I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you,” she whispered through tears. “Sorry?” My laugh was harsh and empty. “You destroy our family, and you’re sorry?”
Jackson’s crying filled the room, his small body trembling in the doorway. Seeing him, a witness to our crumbling life, cut through my rage and filled me with profound sadness. “Come here, buddy,” I whispered, extending my arms to him. “Why, Mom?” he asked, his voice muffled against my shirt, his question filled with confusion and hurt. He had walked in as my mother was confronting Laura and thought something had happened to Laura because she was crying.
Laura kneeled beside us, extending her hand. I pulled Jackson close to me. “Sometimes, people make terrible mistakes,” she said, her voice breaking. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you both.”
“But it does mean things can’t stay the same,” I said softly. I couldn’t believe my wife had cheated on me. It made me question everything, even the baby’s paternity. Laura extended her hand to me as we sat on the couch. She spoke of promises and wanting to fix things. But I couldn’t see a way forward.
I wanted Jackson to grow up in a household with parents who loved and trusted each other, but after this, I couldn’t see how. Later that evening, I took Jackson out to dinner. We needed to escape the house and its tense atmosphere.
“Will you move out?” he asked while eating his burger.
“No,” I assured him. “Mom and I need to figure some things out, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“I thought Mom was hurt,” he said. “When I got home from school, Gran was trying to pull Mom out of the bathroom – she kept calling, but Mom just kept crying. I didn’t realize there was another man in the house.”
“Where was he?” I asked, opening a drink.
“He was on your bed, or so Gran told me,” Jackson said. After dinner, we hesitated to go home. The reality of the situation made our house feel disconnected. But I was grateful to have Jackson with me.
When we returned home, Laura was on the couch biting her nails, as she always did when stressed. “What now?” she asked. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make things right.” She moved a book aside and patted the couch. “I think only time will tell,” I said. “But I need to know the truth — is the baby mine?”
Laura closed her eyes and took a deep breath, barely holding back her anxiety. “I’m not sure,” she muttered. In the coming weeks, Laura decided to attend therapy to understand her behavior. “I never thought I’d do something like this,” she said one day while making tea. “But you did,” I replied.
Laura nodded. “I’m going to stay until the baby is born,” I said. “And once we do a DNA test, we’ll decide about our marriage.” I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m not ready to face the results of that test.
