When I told my husband I was pregnant, he froze. When he saw the ultrasound, he panicked. The following day, he was gone—no calls, no trace. But I wasn’t about to just let him disappear. I needed answers… and payback.
That morning, I woke up to an unusual silence. Usually, my husband, Max, would already be moving around the apartment: taking a shower, making coffee, or mumbling about the news.
But that day… nothing. I opened my eyes and reached for his side of the bed. Cold. I sat up and looked around. His suit, which was always carelessly draped over the chair, was gone.
I jumped out of bed and hurried into the living room. Empty.
The kitchen? Spotless.
On the dining table was a single sheet of white paper:
“I’m sorry. I’m not ready.”
I read those five words over and over again, my brain refusing to process them.
“What?” I whispered.
A sinking feeling spread through me. I rushed to the closet—empty. No shirts, no pants, even his shoes were gone.
The bathroom? His favorite cologne, shaving cream, even his towel—gone. I yanked open his drawer in the entryway. Nothing.
He was gone. For real.
Why? How?
I replayed last night in my head.
When I handed Max the envelope with the ultrasound photo, he took it carefully. At first, he smiled, but then… his whole face changed.
“You’re… you’re pregnant?”
“Yes! Isn’t it wonderful?”
I was practically glowing with excitement.
“But… we weren’t planning this…”
“I know, but some things are meant to be, right?”
His eyes dropped back to the ultrasound. His jaw tensed.
“Wait… what is this?”
“It’s twins, Max.”
His arms wrapped around me, but something about the embrace felt… off. A wife expects a certain kind of reaction when she shares life-changing news. And that wasn’t it.
He didn’t ask how I felt. He didn’t kiss me or say we’d figure it out together. Instead, he just got up.
“I need some fresh air.”
And then he left.
I had imagined that moment so differently. I thought he was overwhelmed in a good way, that maybe he’d come back with a huge bouquet or a giant box of chocolates.
Instead, he didn’t come back at all.
And at that moment… I stood there with a hollow pit in my stomach, clutching my phone.
I called once. No answer. Twice. Three times.
“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.”
I opened my messages. The last one from me, sent last night:
“I’m so happy! I can’t wait until we feel their first kicks together! ❤️”
He hadn’t even read it.
The last one from him? Before dinner:
“Running late. Don’t wait up.”
I’d thought nothing of it at the time. Work, business, the usual last-minute meetings.
But after he’d gone… I was seeing the pattern. The late nights, the unexplained absences, the phone switched off at night. I bit my lip.
Is he really just scared of being a father? Or is there… something else?
I wiped the tears from my face. He was terribly mistaken if he thought he could just vanish without a word.
At first, I thought Max was just panicking and that his fear needed time to process. But days passed, and he didn’t come back.
By the fourth day, my patience had worn thin. If Max wasn’t coming back, I needed to know why.
I started cleaning. Partly because the apartment felt suffocating and partly because I was determined to find something.
I opened the closet and began sorting through what little he had left behind. I folded, sorted, and packed, but every action was fueled by a single goal: finding answers.
When I reached the laundry basket, I pulled out a pile of clothes that had been sitting there since I told him I was pregnant: his shirt, trousers… and jacket, which was at the bottom of the pile.
The same jacket he wore that evening.
I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. A faint scent lingered. Soft, floral, unmistakably feminine. And it didn’t belong to me.
It can’t be…
I frantically turned the jacket inside out, shaking my hands as I dug into the pockets. Loose change. Crumpled receipts. A folded napkin from a restaurant.
And then… something that made my breath hitch.
A receipt!
My eyes darted over the details. The purchase wasn’t anything special, but the location… there it was, a neatly written address in a woman’s hand.
What if this is just a random receipt? What if it means nothing?
But deep down, I already knew the truth. It wasn’t just an address. It was a lead. And I had a gut feeling that I would find someone who had the answers at the end.
That evening, I stood outside a cozy little house on the outskirts of town. My breath came in shallow gasps.
I had been watching for thirty minutes. Long enough to see the woman arrive—blonde, at least ten years younger than me. She had parked her old Jeep, pulled out grocery bags, and disappeared inside.
Later, warm light glowed from the windows. I could see her moving around, preparing dinner.
For herself? Or… for Max?
I had to act while she was still alone. Finally, I stepped forward and knocked.
The door opened almost instantly, and the woman blinked at me, confused.
“Hi,” I said, my voice cold.
“Hi… Do I know you?”
“You really don’t?”
“No… Should I?”
A few seconds passed before realization hit me. She had no idea who I was.
“I’m Max’s wife.”
Her face turned pale.
“Wife?” Her hands gripped the edge of the doorframe. “Max is… coming soon, but… but you should come in,” she finally stammered.
I stepped inside, my eyes scanning the house. Simple, clean, nothing fancy. A few open grocery bags on the counter, a half-prepared dinner on the stove. It smelled like garlic and rosemary.
She pulled the curtains shut before pouring me a glass of water. Then she grabbed one for herself and downed it in a single gulp. She was more nervous than I was.
“I’m Katie,” she finally said. “I’ve been dating Max for six months. I… I swear, I didn’t know he was married.”
A sharp, bitter laugh almost escaped me. Instead, I reached for my left hand and slipped off my wedding ring. I placed it in the center of the table.
“We’ve been married for two years. And we’re having twins.”
“Oh my God…”
She didn’t know. She really didn’t know.
Katie exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples.
“How could he…”
At that moment, we weren’t two women on different sides of a betrayal. We were two women standing on the same side of a war.
Katie leaned forward, eyes locked on mine.
“What are we going to do with him?”
And just like that, an idea started to take shape. A slow, deliciously cruel idea. I lifted my glass and took a sip.
“I think it’s time Max got a taste of his own medicine.”
“I hope you like a little revenge with your dinner.”
“Oh, I do. But we’re going to make it… special.”
Katie leaned in closer. “Tell me more.”
And that was how it all began.
The living room buzzed with laughter and cheerful chatter. The warm scent of vanilla cake filled the air, pastel-colored balloons gently swayed near the ceiling, and a golden banner gleamed above the dessert table.
“Congratulations, Daddy-to-Be!”
The words shimmered under the soft glow of the lights, adding to the illusion that this was a heartfelt celebration. In reality, it was a meticulously planned trap.
I stood in the shadows, watching Katie accept warm wishes and hugs. Not a single move betrayed the fact that it was a performance. Finally, Max stepped inside.
“Wow… A party?”
He spread his arms slightly, forcing a chuckle, but I could hear the nervous edge in his voice.
“Surprise!”
Katie practically bounced toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I wanted to make this day unforgettable for you.”
“Unforgettable? For me?”
His eyes scanned the room as if searching for someone.
“Wait… are you saying you’re pregnant?”
“Oh, yes!” Katie beamed. “And tonight, Daddy, this isn’t even the biggest surprise!”
She playfully pinched his side before he could respond. Before he could react, Katie’s best friends, Megan and Sophie, appeared beside him.
“We got you a gift!” Megan squealed, thrusting a brightly wrapped box into his hands.
The room applauded as Max hesitated before unwrapping it. His fingers trembled as he pulled out… A giant pack of newborn diapers.
“Oh… wow…” he muttered, maintaining his composure.
“You’re going to need these!” Sophie winked. “And don’t forget the wipes! Babies love spitting up all over freshly ironed shirts.”
“And the sleepless nights. Oh, you’ll love those! Ten wake-ups a night—minimum!”
“But it’s so precious when they scream at 3 a.m., and you must rock them back to sleep,” Sophie sighed dreamily.
I saw a bead of sweat trickle down Max’s temple. And then… the cake arrived. The room fell silent as Katie took the knife and handed it to Max.
“You should do the honors, love. A little peek at who’s waiting for you inside.”
She patted her slightly padded belly (the detail we had planned meticulously).
Max hesitated, but with so many expectant eyes on him, he had no choice. He dragged the knife through the soft frosting, slicing through the layers.
As the first piece lifted away, the entire room gasped.
Inside, swirled together, were TWO colors. Pink and blue.
“Two?…” Max mumbled.
His gaze lifted to Katie. She clapped her hands together, beaming.
“Surprise! We’re having twins!”
“Twins?!”
“Yes! And you know, it must be fate! You once told me your grandmother had twins, too—maybe it runs in the family!”
Cheers, whistles, laughter. The perfect, suffocating pressure.
Max opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His hands twitched at his sides, his fingers brushing against his pants as if trying to ground himself.
“This… this is so… unexpected…”
“But you always wanted kids, right?” Megan teased.
“A big, loving family?” Sophie chimed in.
“Oh, and double the love, double the fun!”
Max’s eyes darted toward the door. He was calculating his escape. And then… the final blow. Katie’s parents stepped forward.
“Son!” her father boomed, clapping a heavy hand on Max’s shoulder. “Congratulations! We are so happy!”
“Oh, our grandbabies!” her mother wiped away joyful tears. “What a blessing!”
Max flinched. He took a step back. Then another. “I… I need some air… I need to go! I can’t…”
“Going somewhere?” I stepped forward.
“You’re not running away again, are you, Max?”
Katie gasped dramatically. “Oh no! Not after all those speeches about being a family man.”
Max swallowed hard. “This… this was a setup!”
“Was it? Or did we just reveal the truth?”
Katie reached forward, scooping a generous handful of cake frosting. She smiled sweetly before “splat”!
She smashed it right into his face. The room erupted into laughter. Megan followed suit, grabbing another handful. Sophie was next.
“Oops! My hand slipped!”
Max staggered back, wiping frosting from his eyes.
“You… you tricked me!”
“No, sweetheart,” Katie purred. “You tricked yourself.”
He spun toward the door, but Katie’s father stood in his way.
“Leaving so soon, son?”
Max was trapped. And I had never felt more satisfied.
I adjusted my purse on my shoulder, ready to leave, but paused just long enough to enjoy the sight of him, covered in cake, completely exposed.
“Oh, and Max?” I called over my shoulder. “Enjoy the attention. You deserve it.”
And with that, I walked out the door, leaving my ex drowning in the chaos he had created.
