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.”