I hadn’t seen Nancy in five years. We stayed in touch through texts and Zoom calls, but life with my husband Spencer and our daughter Olive had pulled me away. When Nancy said she’d be in town, I jumped at the chance to reunite and let the kids meet.

The day at the amusement park was perfect. Olive and Nancy’s son, Connor, clicked instantly. Laughing and sharing rides, it felt like old times. Later, at a cozy café, Connor spotted a photo of Spencer on my phone. “That’s Daddy!” he said. Nancy quickly denied it, but Connor insisted. My heart sank.

That night, curiosity drove me to Spencer’s laptop. Hidden emails and photos revealed a secret: Spencer and Nancy had been having an affair. Worse, Connor was Spencer’s son—conceived while I was pregnant with Olive. The betrayal cut deep, but I stayed silent, planning my next move.

The following day, I invited Nancy for ice cream, recording every moment. When Spencer arrived, the truth spilled out. Both kids called him Daddy, and the facade shattered. Spencer called it “a mistake,” but I saw the damage clearly.

I hired a divorce lawyer and uncovered hidden accounts funding their secret life. When Spencer came to collect his things, he looked defeated. I told him I deserved trust and peace.

Nancy’s apology came weeks later, but I sent her a letter instead, closing that chapter for good. Now, with Olive asleep beside me, I live in truth—cold and lonely, but finally free.