There are those who say that betrayal is like drowning… you don’t realize that you have sunk until you try to breathe. I learned this truth on a Tuesday in April, when I got home early from a business trip and discovered the secret of my husband hiding behind the door of our guest room.
The fertility clinic waiting room was always too cold. I sat there to leaf through a magazine for parents, looking at smiling families while the clock marked the time of our appointment. Again, Matt was late. And I excused him… again.
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A sad woman sitting in the waiting room | Source: Freepik
A sad woman sitting in the waiting room | Source: Freepik
“Madam?” the nurse called, with the clipboard in her hand. “We can’t start without her husband. Shall we change the appointment?”
I checked my phone. He had sent three messages, but had not responded to any.
“Give me five more minutes, please.”
After 15 minutes, I picked up the bag and jacket. “I’m sorry. Something must have come up.”
I called my husband on my back to my car. But the voicemail jumped, just like in the visit to the fertility clinic last month. And the previous month.
When I got home, Matt was lying on the couch, with the remote control in his hand and his headphones on. He was laughing with his friends about the online game.
A man wearing headphones while laughing at the screen | Source: Pexels
A man wearing headphones while laughing at the screen | Source: Pexels
“Carol! You’re back soon.” He left the remote control. “How was the appointment?”
I stayed at the entrance, with the keys still in my hand. “There was no appointment. Not without you.”
He made a grimace of pain. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
“It’s the third time, Matt.”
“I know, I know. The work has been crazy and…”.
“I work part-time,” I replied.
“Look, I’m not sure if now is the right time to have a baby. Your work drives you a lot away, and children are expensive.”
A frustrated man | Source: Pexels
A frustrated man | Source: Pexels
“So I should keep working more, keep traveling more, until what? Until we can afford the perfect life for our hypothetical son?”
“Exactly!”. He smiled, relieved that he understood. “If you could get that promotion…”.
I didn’t argue. I just nodded and went to take a shower, letting the hot water mix with my tears. I wanted a baby more than anything, but Matt always had a new excuse. Even so, I moved on, accepted more customers, more trips and more responsibilities… all to achieve that mobile goal that he kept displacing.
Because love makes you stupid. And I loved Matt more than I loved myself.
An adorable newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
An adorable newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
“I’ll do it better,” I whispered to my reflection that night. “I’ll do it better.”
Three months later, I was packing for another business trip – the fourth of the quarter.
“Three days in Denver,” I said, folding a blouse and putting it in the suitcase. “The Henderson account is huge. If we get it, that promotion will be very good for me.”
Matt was lying in bed, looking at the phone. “That’s great, baby.”
“Will you be okay alone?” I asked, more out of habit than out of real concern.
A woman packing her suitcase | Source: Pexels
A woman packing her suitcase | Source: Pexels
He looked up with a strange expression… almost anxious. “Don’t worry about me. I have a lot to do.”
“Just things from the house. Maybe some cleaning.”
I almost laughed. In five years of marriage, Matt had never volunteered to clean up anything.
“Well, don’t try too hard,” I joked, pulling up the zipper of my luggage.
He smiled. “Believe me, I won’t.”
The Denver meetings were better than expected. On the last day in the afternoon, not only had we got Henderson’s account, but two of his partners had been interested in it. My boss was ecstatic.
“Go home, Carol,” he told me. “Get tomorrow off. You’ve earned it.”
An elegant older woman smiling | Source: Pexels
An elegant older woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I stayed in the hotel room, looking at my cell phone. I wanted to surprise Matt by arriving home soon, maybe buy his favorite takeaway on the way and open a bottle of wine.
So I booked the next flight home.
When I entered the house, I saw a small pink bicycle resting on the porch. I had never seen her. “Is it the neighbor’s daughter’s bicycle? It must be! But what is he doing on our porch?” I whispered to myself, puzzled.
With the key, I opened the door without making a sound, anticipating Matt’s surprised face. He came out of the kitchen with a kitchen towel on his shoulder and stood still as soon as he saw me.
“CAROL? Have you… returned? Before…?”
I smiled, leaving the suitcases. “Surprise! I’ve missed you.”
A frightened man | Source: Freepik
A frightened man | Source: Freepik
He advanced mechanically and hugged me, but he felt his body stiff. His eyes kept swaying over my shoulder towards the corridor.
“I’ve bought that pasta that you like so much,” I said, lifting the bag of takeaway food. “I thought we could have a good dinner.”
“Great!” he said, but his hands were shaking. “I just… uh… I have to clean some things. Why don’t you sit down for a while? I’ll be back now.”
I frowned. “First I should put away the suitcase. Is the guest room already…?”.
“NO!”. Matt panicked. “I mean, don’t go in there. It’s a complete disaster. I started that project I mentioned to you and… I piled it all up there. I was going to organize it before you came back tomorrow.”
A room with the door closed | Source: Pexels
A room with the door closed | Source: Pexels
I ranched an eyebrow. “Okay! Since when do you order?”
“I thought of giving you a surprise.” He took me by the arm and directed me to our bedroom. “Leave the suitcase here for now. Let’s eat while the food is still hot.”
That’s when I heard a soft and sharp chuckle coming from behind the door of the guest room.
Matt’s hand tightened against my arm.
“What has been what? I haven’t heard anything.”
Grayscale shot of a shocked woman | Source: Pexels
Grayscale shot of a shocked woman | Source: Pexels
I separated from him and walked to the guest room. Each step was like advancing through quicksand.
“Carol, wait…”, he shouted behind me.
The room was not messy. Instead, there was an improvised play area with colored blankets on the floor. On a folding table there was a half-eaten happy box. There were stuffed animals arranged in a circle, as if they had been drinking tea.
And in the middle of everything was sitting a girl. I wouldn’t be more than five years old, with big brown eyes and curly hair tied with pink ribbons. He looked at me with the most innocent smile.
A girl playing with a stuffed animal | Source: Freepik
A girl playing with a stuffed animal | Source: Freepik
“Hello,” he told me. “Are you the bad witch?”
My heart stopped. “WHAT?”
He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Dad has told me that I have to be very quiet or the bad witch will get angry. But you don’t seem angry. You’re very pretty.”
I slowly turned to look at Matt, who was at the door, stunned.
He couldn’t look me in the eyes. “Her name is Ivy. She’s… she’s my daughter.”
My heart rumbled in my chest. “YOUR DAUGHTER?”
“With someone else. A woman I work with.”
A woman shaken to the core | Source: Pexels
A woman shaken to the core | Source: Pexels
I stared at him, not understanding. “Do you have a daughter? With someone else? How could you?”
“It happened… it happened a few years ago,” he stammered. “An adventure with Sasha, accounting. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Didn’t it mean anything? You have a daughter!”
YIvy looked between us, her smile fading.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you,” Matt reasoned. “But I’ve been helping her. Economically, you know. Here and there.”
Suddenly, all those inexplicable expenses made sense. The extra credit card, cash withdrawals and “work lunches” that seemed to cost a fortune.
A man holding his wallet | Source: Pexels
A man holding his wallet | Source: Pexels
“Have you been supporting another family with the money I earned?”
“So how is it, Matt? Please explain to me why you have been hiding your daughter in our guest room, calling me ‘evil witch’, while I killed myself to earn enough money so we could have a child together.”
His mouth opened and then closed. Any explanation he had died on his lips.
I turned away from him and sat on the floor next to Ivy, who looked at us with wide and insecure eyes.
A guilty man | Source: Pexels
A guilty man | Source: Pexels
“Hello, Ivy,” I said, forcing a friendly tone. “I’m Carol. Nice to meet you.”
“Do you want to play blocks with me?” he asked hesitantly.
For 10 minutes, I built towers with this innocent girl while Matt stared, speechless. She was sweet, brilliant, and none of this was his fault.
Finally, I got up. “Tonight I’ll sleep in our room,” I told Matt calmly. “You can stay on the couch. And tomorrow morning, you will take Ivy to her mother’s house.”
“Tomorrow. We’ll talk later.”
I didn’t sleep that night. How was he going to do it? I stayed awake, reliving every moment of our marriage, wondering what else had been a lie.
A stressed woman sitting on her bed | Source: Pexels
A stressed woman sitting on her bed | Source: Pexels
In the morning, I heard that Matt moved early, picking up Ivy’s things. I stayed in the bedroom until I heard the front door close.
I reported that I was sick and called a locksmith. While I was waiting, I put in boxes all the objects that belonged to Matt. Clothes, shoes, game equipment… everything. When he returned, two hours later, the boxes were neatly stacked on the porch and the locks had been changed.
On top of the largest box
was a Manila paper envelope. Inside were the divorce papers, already signed by me. My friend Jenna, who is a lawyer, had the papers ready a few hours after I sent her a message the night before. I guess it helps to have the right people by your side.
Divorce papers on the table | Source: Pexels
Divorce papers on the table | Source: Pexels
Matt entered the garage and left slowly, looking at the boxes and then at me, who was at the door.
“Carol, please,” he begged me, “we have to talk about this.”
“I’ve been talking for years, Matt. Talking, working and trying… while you led a double life.”
“So how is it? Tell me what possible explanation could make this okay.”
He looked down. “I was afraid. Fear of being a father, fear of failure. When Sasha told me she was pregnant, I panicked. I wasn’t prepared. But then, when I met Ivy… I fell in love with her. And I’ve tried to be there for her without losing you.”
“Hiding It? Making him think he was some kind of monster?”
An emotionally overwhelmed man feeling defeated | Source: Pexels
An emotionally overwhelmed man feeling defeated | Source: Pexels
“I never wanted to get that far. Please give me another chance.”
“Do you know what’s the worst? It’s not even the adventure or the secret daughter. It’s just that while I was desperately trying to start a family with you, you already had one that you hid from me.”
“The papers are pretty clear. I don’t try to keep everything. I just want you to leave. This is my house.”
“What am I supposed to do now? Where will I go?”
For the first time in years, I answered honestly: “That’s not my problem anymore!”
A woman shrugging her shoulders | Source: Freepik
A woman shrugging her shoulders | Source: Freepik
I closed the door, ignoring his knocks, calls and messages. In the tranquility of the house that had once harbored so many dreams, I finally allowed myself to cry… not for the man I had lost, but for the time I had wasted loving someone who never deserved it.
Sometimes you have to drown a little before remembering how to swim. And while I was sitting there, surrounded by the echoes of our failed marriage, I made myself a promise: from now on, I would only swim towards the things that really deserved my heart.
