Motherhood had left me exhausted, and my husband seemed to understand. Every evening, he took our baby for a walk so I could relax, and it felt like such a sweet gesture. I trusted him. But one night, he forgot his phone, so I followed his usual route to return it… only to realize it wasn’t usual at all.
I gave birth to our baby boy, Caleb, six months ago. Becoming a mother was both beautiful and brutal. The sleepless nights, the constant worry, and the overwhelming love made my chest ache. Through it all, my husband Nate seemed like my rock.
“You look exhausted,” he said one evening, stepping through the door from work. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up. He kissed my forehead while I bounced a fussy Caleb on my hip.
“That obvious, huh?” I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sigh.
“Here, let me take him.” Nate reached for Caleb, who immediately settled against his father’s chest. “Actually, I’ve been thinking. You never get a break, Monica. How about I take him for a walk every evening? That way, you can get some time to yourself.”
I blinked, surprised. “You’d do that?”
“Of course.” He smiled. “You deserve it. Plus, I miss spending time with the little guy.”
That night, I soaked in a hot bath for the first time in months, listening to the quiet house, grateful for my thoughtful husband.
“How was your walk?” I asked when they returned, Caleb sleeping peacefully in the stroller.
Nate’s eyes lit up. “Great. Really great. We should make this our thing.”
“I like that,” I said, feeling warmth spread through my chest.
And so it began. Every evening at 6:30, Nate would take Caleb out. A little father-son bonding time. A well-deserved break for me.
For weeks, the routine continued. I watched from the window as they disappeared down the street, Nate pushing the stroller with one hand, his phone in the other.
He always returned looking refreshed and energized. I mean… way too refreshed.
“You really enjoy these walks, don’t you?” I asked one night as he placed a sleeping Caleb in his crib.
“Best part of my day,” he replied, not meeting my eyes.
Something in his voice made me pause, but I pushed the thought away. I wanted to believe in this version of my husband—the devoted father, the considerate partner.
Then came the night he forgot his phone.
It buzzed on the counter, flashing his boss’s name.
“He forgot his phone,” I muttered, grabbing my coat. “I could catch up… they couldn’t have gone far.”
I slipped out the front door and spotted them halfway down the block. Something made me pause before calling out. A gut feeling. The kind that whispers when something’s wrong. So, I followed at a distance.
Nate didn’t turn toward the park like I assumed he always did. Instead, he headed downtown, navigating the stroller through the evening crowd with practiced ease.
He stopped outside a coffee shop I had never been to. My pace slowed as I watched him check his watch and scan the street.
And then she appeared—a tall, stunning brunette. She was confident in her movements, her smile widening when she saw Nate. She bent down, cooed at my baby, then straightened up and kissed my husband on the cheek.
My body went cold, then hot. The sidewalk seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
They walked inside together, her hand resting comfortably on the stroller handle alongside Nate’s, like they’d done this a hundred times before.
I didn’t confront him that night. I placed his phone back where he left it and pretended to be napping when he returned. I needed to be sure.
“Did you have a nice walk?” I asked, feigning grogginess.
“Same as always,” he said, unbuckling Caleb. “The park was nice.”
The lie slid so easily from his lips that I almost doubted what I’d seen.
That night, I lay beside him, counting his breaths and studying his sleeping face. Was this the same man I married? Had I ever really known him?
I followed him again the next evening, this time deliberately. They met at the same place. Sat at the same outdoor table. I watched her laugh, watched her fingers brush against Caleb’s tiny hand. Nate leaned in close to her, his smile wider than any I’d seen at home in months.
No more wondering. No more doubt. I needed the truth.
The next day, I hatched a plan.
I bought a plastic baby doll that looked eerily lifelike. Wrapped it in Caleb’s blanket. Hid a small baby monitor beneath it.
That evening, Nate grabbed the stroller without even looking inside.
“Enjoy your walk,” I called.
“We always do.”
I waited five minutes, then followed, clutching the receiver.
There they were. The woman leaned forward, her fingers intertwined with my husband’s.
“Are you sure this is okay?” her voice crackled through the speaker. “I feel guilty.”
“It’s fine,” Nate replied. “She doesn’t suspect a thing. She’s too exhausted from the baby to notice.”
My breath caught.
“And how long are you going to pretend? Until Caleb grows up?”
“No, babe. Until she gets her inheritance from her grandma. Then she’ll give me some money for being a WONDERFUL husband. See? I even walk with a baby every evening. I’m practically a saint!”
Something inside me snapped. The receiver fell from my hand as I stepped toward them.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account.”
Nate choked on his coffee. The woman’s eyes widened.
“Monica! What are you—”
I yanked back the blanket in the stroller, revealing the doll.
“What the hell is this?” Nate stared.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
The woman stood. “Nate, you said she knew—”
“Knew what? That my husband uses our son as a prop to cheat? That he’s planning to milk me for my inheritance?”
I pulled off my wedding ring and dropped it on the table. “I hope you’re happy together. Because you just lost the best thing you had.”
I turned and walked away, head high, shoulders back.
The divorce was quick. Nate didn’t contest custody or the house. He signed the papers and disappeared.
Three months later, my friend Mia called. “Your ex? The woman? She’s engaged… to someone else. Nate was the side piece. He was screaming at her in public! I got it on video.”
I laughed. “Send it to me.”
Later, I watched the silent video of Nate gesturing wildly while she looked bored. And I felt nothing but freedom.
“Your father thought he was clever,” I told Caleb. “But karma doesn’t need directions.”
A year passed. Caleb grew. I rebuilt my life. Ran into Nate once in a supermarket.
“I messed up,” he said. “I know that now.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Can I at least—”
“Send a check for child support. On time, for once. Goodbye, Nate.”
Some chapters are better left closed. The best revenge? Moving forward without them.
