I was just scrolling through Facebook, looking for a particular photo from our anniversary party last month. I wanted the one where our daughter, Lily, had gotten frosting all over her face. But as I scanned my husband Sam’s feed, something odd caught my attention.
A woman named Ella kept appearing in the comments, and not in a casual way. She wasn’t just clicking ‘Like’ here and there—her words carried a familiarity that sent a strange feeling creeping up my spine.
“Looking good as always!” she had commented on a picture of Sam and me dressed up for a fancy dinner two months ago.
That was bad enough, but what really made my stomach drop was the comment on Lily’s birthday photo. In it, Lily had been wearing glittery fairy wings and a silver plastic crown, looking like a tiny princess.
Ella had written: “Oh wow, you took my suggestion about the wings! So glad Lily liked them ❤️”
Took her suggestion? What suggestion? How did she even know about Lily’s wings?
I clicked on her profile, my pulse quickening. I had to know who this woman was and why my husband had never mentioned her.
Her profile picture popped up. She was beautiful. Bright eyes, a dazzling smile, an effortless glow about her. But something about her also seemed… familiar. Not that I had ever met her—at least, I didn’t think I had.
I started scrolling through her posts, and my stomach churned. Sam had liked nearly all of them. He had commented on many too.
Then, as if on cue, Lily came bouncing into the room, her pigtails swinging. She caught sight of my screen, and before I could even react, she squealed, “Ella!”
My blood turned to ice.
“You know her?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice even.
“Of course, silly! Don’t you? We see her all the time.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean, all the time?”
“Every Wednesday after school. Daddy picks me up, and we meet Ella.” Lily twirled around, completely oblivious to my growing distress. “She’s so much fun! We get ice cream, and sometimes we feed the ducks at the pond. But we use special duck food because Ella says bread isn’t good for them.”
She suddenly stopped spinning. Her little hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened in horror.
“Oh no! I wasn’t supposed to tell! Daddy said it was our special secret.”
My heart pounded. “Secret?”
Lily nodded earnestly. “Daddy said sometimes grown-ups keep secrets so they don’t hurt other grown-ups’ feelings.”
It hit me like a punch to the gut. My husband had been sneaking around with another woman—and worse, he had involved our daughter in it.
All those Wednesdays I had worked late at the office, thinking Sam and Lily were enjoying father-daughter time together… had been a lie.
I forced a smile for Lily’s sake. “It’s okay, sweetie. Why don’t you go play with your dolls?”
She skipped away, humming, while I sat frozen, staring at my phone, the screen dark, my reflection staring back at me—a woman drowning in suspicion and hurt.
There was only one way to know the truth.
Tomorrow was Wednesday. And this time, I was going to be there.
The next day, I called in sick for the first time in three years. My hands trembled as I parked across from Lily’s school and waited.
Sam’s white car pulled up. My heart pounded as I watched him glance at his phone. Texting her, I thought bitterly.
Lily ran out, her light-up sneakers flashing as Sam helped her into the car. I followed them at a distance, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.
They stopped at a park near the school. I pulled over, watching as they sat on a bench. Sam kept checking his watch.
And then, right on time, a car pulled up.
The woman from Facebook stepped out.
Ella.
My breath hitched. And then I realized where I had seen her before.
She was in Sam’s old high school photos. His ex. His first love. The one he had taken to prom.
My stomach twisted as Lily squealed, “Ella! Ella!” and ran into her arms.
Ella lifted her up, twirling her around. Sam watched, grinning like a lovesick teenager.
My world tilted. My family. My husband. My daughter. All laughing with her. As if they belonged together.
They soon headed across the street to a café—the same one where Sam and I used to take Lily for special treats.
I gave them a few minutes, then followed. The bell chimed as I stepped inside.
Ella was alone at the table, checking her phone.
I walked straight up to her.
“Hi,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “I’m Sam’s wife.”
Ella’s face went pale. Her phone slipped from her hands.
“I know,” she whispered.
“Sarah?”
I turned. Sam stood frozen behind me, Lily clinging to his leg, looking confused.
Ella quickly gestured to a chair. “Please, sit. This isn’t what you think.”
“What exactly should I think?” I asked, but I sat anyway. I needed answers.
Sam took a deep breath. “Ella and I go way back. We dated in high school. A while ago, she reached out because… well, she should tell you herself.”
Ella hesitated. “My husband passed away last year,” she said finally. “We always wanted kids, but it never happened. I started considering adoption, but I was terrified I wouldn’t be good enough. I knew Sam was a father, so I reached out to him for advice.” She wiped her eyes. “He suggested spending time with Lily might help me figure out if I was ready.”
I stared at them. My throat tightened. “And you never thought to tell me?”
“I didn’t know how,” Sam admitted. “I didn’t want it to seem… wrong.”
Ella reached into her purse and pulled out a photo. A little girl with bright eyes and braided hair smiled up at me.
“This is Maya. She’s four, and she’s waiting for me in Arizona. I’m adopting her.”
Tears welled in Ella’s eyes. “This is my last week here. I move on Saturday to bring her home.”
She hesitated before touching my hand. “I never meant to cause problems. Sam talks about you all the time. About what an amazing mother you are. I just hoped some of that magic might rub off on me.”
My breath hitched.
I looked at Sam. I looked at Ella. At Lily’s confused face. The anger slowly ebbed away, replaced by something else.
Understanding.
“No more secrets,” I said, looking straight at Sam.
“Never again,” he promised.
And for the first time in hours, I breathed easily again.
