On Lola’s fifth birthday, I was supposed to be at the spa, relaxing. Instead, I walked into a café and found my husband’s mistress blowing out birthday candles next to my daughter.
A week earlier, my mother-in-law, Nora, had insisted I take a spa day while she handled the party. Exhausted, I agreed. But two hours into my massage, unease crept in. Something felt wrong.
I left early and drove home—only to find the house empty. My neighbor, Rachel, mentioned a last-minute venue change to a plant café. Heart pounding, I rushed over.
There, surrounded by pink decorations I hadn’t chosen, stood my husband Peter, his arm around a woman I’d never met.
“This is Madeline,” he said casually. “We’ve been together a while. She planned this as a new tradition.”
My world tilted. “A new what?”
“A second birthday,” Nora added. “So Lola can bond with her new mom.”
Fury burned through me. But before I could react, Lola spotted me. “Mama! You came!” She ran into my arms. “Grandma said you forgot about me.”
My heart broke. I held her tight. “Never, baby.”
Peter shrugged. “You might as well accept it.”
“No,” I said, taking Lola’s hand. “We’re leaving.”
That night, we ate the cake I’d made, just us. She made a wish. “That you’d always be here.”
“That’s a promise, Lola.”
Later, I told Rachel everything. “I’m divorcing him.”
She handed me a glass of wine. “Good. You deserve better.”
