One of my happiest moments became something I never dreamed.
One of my happiest moments became something I never dreamed. Instead of canceling the celebration, I used it to tell the truth in a memorable way.
I’m 27 and expecting with our first child with Grant (30). We were supposed to start over with this baby. I was determined to avenge my husband’s adultery after discovering the truth.
Last year was hard for Grant and me. Work and relocation had caused a lot of stress, but things were starting to seem normal again. Or so I thought.
Weeks were spent planning the gender reveal or baby shower. The decor was designed by my best friend Lila. My mother catered. My supposed partner appeared excited about it all. He chose cake and blew up balloons in the living room while making dad jokes.
Although we didn’t know the gender of our child, I found the perfect pale blue frock and Grant got a pink blouse. Despite my swollen ankles and back, I felt good in my flowy, silky dress.
The celebration was intended to be my happiest day.
Everything fell apart two nights before the big event.
Around 11 p.m. I went upstairs early since my body needed rest, but I couldn’t sleep. Grant was asleep on the couch with his phone buzzing on the armrest when I came down for water.
I understand your concern, but I don’t spy. I’ve maintained his privacy even when we fought. However, the name on the screen caught my attention: “M💋.”
It was an unfamiliar contact. The kiss emoji next to the “M” made me queasy. When that happened, my baby kicked like he sensed something was wrong.
Answering the phone. The lock screen alerts displayed text excerpts: “Last night was amazing…” and “Can’t wait to see you again tonight 😘.” My hands shook. I unlocked it. Grant never set up Face ID or a passcode, which felt like a betrayal after what I saw.
Dozens of messages!
Hotel confirmations and seductive texts. “Wear that black dress, I like.” Lastly, Grant’s happy selfie with “M💋” kissing his cheek was the worst part.
I’d never seen her.
I stood there in the dark, heart thumping, staring at the television, barely breathing, like I’d been punched in the chest. Was shaking so intensely I almost dropped the phone. Despite tears, I didn’t cry. Not yet.
I peered at the computer hoping it would make sense. Numb fingers and a constricted throat.
Then I quietly put the phone away and headed upstairs. I softly cried into a pillow in bed to avoid him.
I didn’t sleep that night. Thinking about all the times I inquired whether everything was okay. How many times did he lie to me? Neither did I confront him. Not yet.
My original thought was to cancel the celebration. I didn’t think I could appear to smile next to him. Other thoughts came to me.
Why should I hide? Why should I safeguard his reputation while he spies on me? Why should I quietly endure this humiliation while he pretended to be a loving husband?
He didn’t deserve that. He’d regret it. And everyone would know why.
Called Lila the next morning to tell her everything. I anticipated her amazement and even speechlessness. She replied, “Girl, I’m grabbing scissors and a printer. The greatest gender reveal ever is coming!”
She helped us plan while Grant worked. Honestly, everything was perfect!
The house was full of family and friends on party day. Denise, my mom, carried little quiches, deviled eggs, and other finger delicacies. My aunt Carla served beverages.
Sharon, Grant’s mother, brought a huge diaper cake and cried when she saw me. Lila, sporting “Team Pink or Team Blue?” pins, organized the games. A giant yellow balloon was tied to the living room center, waiting to be popped for the surprise.
Grant? Oh, his shine! He smiled, shook hands, took photographs with guests, and hugged family. Celebrating his impending fatherhood, he told visitors he was delighted to “meet his little princess or prince.”
I cringed but smiled at him. Oh, I smiled.
I continued getting hugged and told, “You look amazing,” and “We’re going to be the best parents ever.” I nearly bled from biting my tongue. He kissed my belly and said, “You’ve made me the happiest man alive!”
“I’m so lucky,” he said, caressing my temple. “You’re giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
I looked him in the eyes and almost chuckled. Instead, I grinned and responded, “I know.”
It was time, so everyone gathered in the living room. Sharon was crying with her hands over her lips. My cousin Jenna recorded on her phone. Lila nodded at me from across the room.
Grant and I faced the balloon. He took my hand.
“Ready?” he whispered.
“Ready,” I said.
Counted together. “Three… two… one!”
Instead of pink or blue confetti, hundreds of folded slips of paper fell when we popped the balloon with pins.
Initially, everyone was confused. Jenna went down, grabbed one up, and read it aloud, cracking.
“Can’t wait to see you again tonight 😘 —M💋.”
The room went silent.
Another guest grabbed it. She read, “That night was amazing,” blinking in surprise.
A second person found the selfie. Virus-like, it spread around the room. Sharon gasped loudly, echoing! Uncle Ben spilled his punch. Guests gazed at me with sympathy or wide eyes. My aunt dropped hers like it burnt!
“What the hell is this?!” Pale Grant shouted.
I faced him. “You tell me.”
His face paled. “You’re mad! You ruined everything!”
I kept quiet. Just said, “No, Grant. You ruined everything.”
Looking around, he saw the whole room staring at him. Some whispered, others stood frozen. He stormed out, slamming the front door so hard it rattled the chandelier.
A balloon ribbon broke and floated alongside me.
Nobody moved for a second. She clapped and remarked, “Well… I think we know the gender of his moral compass.”
Several laughed uncomfortably. Sharon appeared faint. Mom embraced me and whispered, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
But I wasn’t done.
“Cake, anyone?” I said.
Everybody looked bewildered. The waiter wheeled it out despite Lila’s nod. Three layers of vanilla cake with soft yellow frosting and baby bootie decorations. The knife was nearby.
I approached, lifted it up, and cut the middle.
A bright blue filling flowed from the wound.
“I’m having a boy!” I grasped the slice. I’ll make him better than his father!”
The room erupted. Aunt Carla cheered, Jenna cried, and Grandma Mary said, “Damn right!”
People hugged and helped me. Sharon swiftly went without speaking. It didn’t matter that other cousins gave me looks I’ll never forget.
I sat in the nursery we’d been building for weeks that night. Drawers held little socks folded neatly. A boxed crib. My mom handed me a yellow elephant stuffed toy in the corner.
I cried on the floor, relieved, not sorrowful.
I first found serenity and clarity. Now I realized who I was and deserved.
Of course, Grant texted me incessantly. Begged me to discuss. Said I “nuclear” and “humiliated him. ” Said we must work together “for the baby.”
I didn’t reply. I saw a lawyer the day after the party.
Also, Sharon called. Suggested I “waited until after the party” and “handled things privately.” I questioned if she told her son to reserve hotel rooms secretly. My call was disconnected.
Half the visitors are still talking about the celebration, according to Lila. Grant’s coworker at the party told the office what transpired. It appears he’s the office joke. Good!
I don’t like whatever I did. But I’m proud of defending myself.
My youngster will know his mother chose dignity over silence. That she didn’t allow a cheater grin for the cameras while posing as a good spouse and father.
And I’ll never forget that balloon bursting, those papers tumbling, Grant’s expression as his falsehoods unraveled in front of everyone.
And honestly?
I wouldn’t change.
If this tale touched you, try another: Luke woke Jennifer at 39 weeks pregnant to complain about the laundry not being folded while he was at work. He didn’t anticipate a close friend to soon intervene and fix matters.
Inspired by true events and people, this work is fictionalized for creativity. To preserve privacy and enrich the story, names, characters, and facts were changed. Any resemblance to real people, events, or places is unintentional.
The author and publisher neither guarantee event authenticity nor character characterization and are not liable for misinterpretation. While this work is presented “as is,” the characters’ viewpoints do not reflect those of the author or publisher.