loves her career, even if it means being away from home a lot. However, when she returns from a business trip, she overhears a cryptic conversation between her husband and her four-year-old son. Little does she know — the thread of her marriage is about to unravel.
When I think about the foundations of my life, there were three that always stood out: my husband, Victor, my son, Mason, and my career. Despite the storms that Victor and I weathered together, including four heart-wrenching miscarriages, we emerged stronger than before the storm.
Or so I believed.
Victor and I were a strong and supportive couple — we knew what worked for us and what didn’t. Especially when it came to healing from the miscarriages we had survived.
“It’s okay, Paige,” Victor constantly reminded me. “We’ll have our baby when the time is right. If not, there are other options.”
I would always smile at him, wondering when his words would come true.
But then, a pregnancy test came back positive. And three months later, our baby was still thriving in my womb.
So, when Mason came into our lives, it felt like our shattered dreams had finally pieced themselves back together. Mason became the one thing that we focused on unconditionally. Whenever our son needed us, we dropped everything.
“Mason is a lucky kid,” Victor said one day when Mason was running around our backyard. “He is incredibly loved.”
And he was. Victor and I prided ourselves on caring for our son above everything else.
I walked into the house, leaving my luggage in the living room. The house was quiet again — but it made sense. It was Mason’s nap time.
I walked into my son’s room first. He was just waking up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Hi, baby,” I said, kissing his head.
Before he could answer, there were muffled sounds coming from inside my bedroom.
“Dad’s not downstairs?” I asked, getting up.
Mason looked at me for a moment too long.
“Mommy, don’t go in there. You’ll be sad,” he warned, his words echoing the secret pact I had overheard.
Fueled by a mix of dread and anger, I approached my bedroom. The muffled sounds from inside were enough confirmation. I braced myself and opened the door.
Victor swore.
The woman untangled herself from my husband and my bedding.
“Paige!” he exclaimed, sitting up in bed. “It’s not what you think!”
I laughed.
“Do I look that stupid?” I asked him, before I felt the tears well in my eyes.
The woman picked up her clothes and locked herself in our bathroom.
The confrontation that followed was a blur of tears, accusations, and heartbreak. Victor tried to deny everything — he was a charming man. And I knew that if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I probably would have believed his lies.
“I have nothing else to say to you,” I said.
“What did you expect, Paige?” Victor asked later.
The woman had fled, and I was left to face the man I no longer knew.
“You’re never here,” he lashed out. “You’re never around. And when you’re home, you spend all your time on Mason or working. What about me?”
I listened to Victor go on about how he was the victim in the story.
“I need human contact, too,” he said. “And I don’t know what you get up to when you’re flying all over the country. I bet you’ve got stories, too.”
Mason had been put to bed again, and his bedroom door was shut — anything to try and keep my son from losing any more of his innocence.
“No, Victor,” I said. “I’m not you. My vows meant something to me.”
After that, I took a walk around the block. I felt guilty for leaving Mason with Victor once again. But I just needed a moment. I felt betrayed — yes, I was working all the time. I couldn’t deny that. But my job also sustained our home — it wasn’t just up to Victor to provide for us.
And then, what about Mason? How long had my son been exposed to this?
When had Mason been forced to keep the secret of his father’s infidelity.
I felt sick to my stomach.
How many women had there been?
How much had Mason seen?
I knew that Victor was a good father — but how good could he have been if this was the life he led in front of his son?
I went back home and made dinner. Victor was stuck in the study, sitting behind his computer. He was fuming. I could feel it. But I knew that it was because he had gotten caught.
In the aftermath, as I recounted the ordeal to my family, their embrace was a sliver of comfort. My parents encouraged me to get Victor to move out.
“Let him leave,” my father said. “You and Mason need to stay comfortable.”
In the end, Victor moved his things out. But he still denied the affair — apparently I didn’t know what I had seen.
At least he didn’t contest the divorce.
“He’s trying to save whatever dignity he has left,” my mother said on the phone.
Reflecting on the secret conversation that had set everything in motion, I realized that the signs were always there. I had chosen to see only the best in Victor — constantly ignoring the whispers of doubt.
Now, armed with the bitter truth, I was determined to rebuild, not just for my sake, but for Mason’s.
I have to be stronger and smarter now.