When my boyfriend dumped me for the one person I trusted most—my own mother—I thought the pain would crush me.
He believed he could betray me and walk away without facing the consequences. What he didn’t know was that I had no intention of letting him get away with it.
They say no relationship is perfect, and for a long time, I believed that about Travis and me. Sure, we argued sometimes.
He could be distant, dismissive, and had a terrible habit of making everything about himself. But I thought we had love. Or at least, I thought we did.
There were sweet moments—he used to bring me coffee in bed, just the way I liked it, with a splash of oat milk and two sugars.
Sometimes he’d leave sticky notes on the fridge: “You got this” or “Smile, today’s yours.” And on nights when we lay in bed, he’d play songs on his phone and whisper, “This one reminds me of you.”
I told myself that real love wasn’t about perfection. It was about holding on through the imperfections. That’s why I stayed. That’s why I believed in him.
We had been living together for almost a year, and I honestly thought we were building something strong and real. My mother, Linda, came over often. She said she just wanted to help.
She’d bring homemade chicken soup, fold our laundry if I hadn’t gotten around to it, and give me advice about things I never even asked for—like how to decorate the living room or how to cook rice without it sticking.
I appreciated it. I thought I was lucky to have a mom who cared enough to show up.
Until that one afternoon.
I left work early with a pounding headache. All I wanted was to lie down and rest. But as soon as I stepped inside, I heard soft music playing in the living room. Then voices—low, familiar voices.
At first, I thought maybe Travis was watching TV. But when I walked in, the scene in front of me froze me where I stood.
Travis was kissing my mother. His hands rested on her waist. She was smiling.
It felt like my world shattered into pieces.
“What the hell is going on?!” I screamed, my voice shaking and louder than I’d ever heard it. My chest felt like it was being crushed. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
Travis sighed, looking annoyed, not guilty. Not even sorry. “Rachel, I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t even step back. He just stood there like this was normal.
Linda crossed her arms, tilting her head like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “You always make everything a crisis,” she said coldly. “We were going to tell you.”
My mouth fell open. “You were going to what? Sit me down and say, ‘Surprise, we’re a couple now’? You’re my mother!”
My voice cracked as I stepped closer. “How could you do this to me?”
Linda didn’t flinch. She just looked at me with that same sharpness in her eyes. “Travis deserves someone who listens to him.
Someone who isn’t constantly exhausted or nagging. Maybe if you had been more of a woman, this wouldn’t have happened.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Travis joined in, his tone cold. “You haven’t exactly been easy to live with, Rachel. Every time I tried to have a real conversation, you shut down. Linda gets me.”
It was like a knife twisting in my chest. I grabbed his coat from the chair, threw it at him, and shouted, “Get out. Both of you!”
They didn’t argue. They just walked past me like I was nothing.
I didn’t cry. Not then. I just stood there, frozen, my whole body shaking.
Two days later, the nausea started. At first, I thought it was just stress. My stomach had been in knots ever since that afternoon. But by the third time I was bent over the toilet, something told me this wasn’t heartbreak.
I drove to the pharmacy with cold hands gripping the wheel. I bought two pregnancy tests. Both came back positive. I didn’t believe it, so I bought four more. I sat on my bathroom floor surrounded by six tests, all screaming the same truth.
I was pregnant. With Travis’s baby.
The man who kissed my mother. The man who left me like I was nothing.
Three days later, I called him. When he picked up, I didn’t waste time. “I’m pregnant,” I said.
Silence. Then finally: “Are you sure?”
“Six tests,” I snapped. “They all say the same thing.”
That evening, he showed up at my door with a paper bag. He placed it on the counter. “Crackers. Ginger tea. I looked up what helps.”
I crossed my arms. “You think snacks fix betrayal?”
“I’m trying to be involved,” he said. “You always said I don’t show up. Well, I’m here now.”
“You’re here because you got caught,” I replied, my voice sharp.
But over the next week, he kept coming. He asked if I’d called the doctor. He suggested names—Ella for a girl, Jacob for a boy.
He talked about cribs, baby clothes, even his job, like nothing had happened. I didn’t stop him, though my heart screamed in pain. I needed time.
Then one evening, my phone rang. I saw her name—Linda. Something inside me already knew it would hurt, but I answered.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, but her tone cut like glass. “Just wanted to let you know—I’m pregnant too.”
I froze. I couldn’t speak.
“You heard me,” she repeated. “And yes, I planned it. I knew you’d try to pull him back with your little surprise. So I made sure he’d stay with me.”
I ended the call without another word. My body felt like ice.
Later that night, Travis walked in like nothing was wrong. “Did she tell you?” he asked quietly.
“Did you think she wouldn’t?” I shot back.
He sighed, rubbing his face. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t sign up for two kids. I can’t handle this.”
“You should have thought about that before sleeping with two women in the same family,” I said coldly.
“I’m just saying, you have options,” he muttered.
“You mean getting rid of my baby to make life easier for you?” I asked, my voice shaking with rage.
He shrugged. “It might be for the best.”
That was it. I opened the door and yelled, “Get out. Now!”
“Rachel, don’t be like this—”
“I said get out! And if you ever tell me what to do with my body again, I swear—”
He slammed the door on his way out. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor, sobbing until my throat burned.
By sunrise, something inside me had changed. I wasn’t better, but I was colder. Stronger. I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t going to ask for answers. I would raise this baby alone.
A few days later, I went to leave a letter at Linda’s house, but when I opened the door, I saw Travis dragging a suitcase.
“What are you doing?” I asked sharply.
He froze. “Just getting some stuff.”
I walked over and unzipped the suitcase. On top were two plane tickets.
“Plane tickets?” My voice dripped with disbelief. “You’re running away.”
He rubbed his face. “I can’t deal with this. Linda’s driving me insane with baby names, nursery colors—I feel trapped.”
“You weren’t going to tell her, were you?”
He looked away. “I was going to send a message once I left. None of this was supposed to happen. You both made it messy.”
I stared at him. “You cheated. You lied. You ruined lives. And now you’re blaming us?”
“You’re both impossible,” he snapped. “I’m tired of being the bad guy.”
“You are the bad guy,” I said. My voice was steady. “You made this mess, and now you want to run from it.”
His eyes narrowed. “You act like you’re better than me.”
“You humiliated me. You destroyed my trust. And now you’re doing it to her too. You think that makes you a victim?”
He raised his voice. “Maybe I was never cut out to be a dad!”
I ripped the plane tickets in half and threw them on the floor. Then I pulled out my phone.
“Linda,” I said when she answered. “Your perfect man is here with a suitcase and a ticket out of your life. Thought you should know.” I hung up before she could respond.
Travis glared. “What the hell was that?”
“Consequences,” I said coldly. “You’ll hear from my lawyer. You’re paying for both children. Whether you like it or not.”
I walked past him and left the torn letter on the table. The sun outside hit my face, and for the first time in weeks, I felt steady.
Yes, I had lost the man I thought I loved and the woman who raised me. But I had found something stronger.
I had found myself.
