My Husband's Other Life

During Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law hinted for the umpteenth time that she wanted a grandchild. However, my husband, Zachary Cole, who had insisted on staying child-free in the past decade, only smiled and filled her plate.

After dinner, he slipped onto the balcony. "There, there. Daddy will come see you on New Year's Day," he whispered.

I stood in the corner of the living room with a glass of water in my hand, feeling cold as the words sank in. I stepped forward and forced a playful tone. "I just heard you say 'Daddy.' Got a secret kid stashed somewhere?"

He rubbed his nose, his voice stiff. "You must've misheard. That's… just a friend's kid."

My heart sank. I'd been married to him for a decade, so I knew exactly what he looked like when he was lying.

The Child He Already Had

I noticed something amiss. So, I played along with my husband's story and casually asked, "Really? You were smiling awfully tender just now."

Zachary Cole's gaze skittered away, refusing to meet mine. "The kid's got a sweet mouth. He kept calling me 'mister.' It's late. Get some sleep."

He turned and walked into the bathroom before I could get a word in edgewise.

After 10 years of marriage, I could read him like an open book. That moment of hesitation told me everything I needed to know. He was hiding something.

By the time the bathroom door swung open, I was already lying in bed pretending to be asleep. Zachary slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around me from behind like he always did. However, I couldn't help but feel as though his embrace felt like a stranger's.

Once his breathing finally evened, I eased out of bed and picked up his phone on the nightstand.

We'd been married for a decade. Yet, this was the first time I had ever looked through his phone. How ironic.

I went straight to his WhatsApp. The chat list was spotless with my name pinned at the top. The family group came next, and then his work contacts. Still, I checked his other apps just to be safe. And there it was, an icon I didn't recognize: Baby Steps.

I tapped it, and it asked for a password.

I tried his birthday, my birthday, our anniversary—nothing.

I had a sudden inspiration and typed the New Year's date: 0101.

The page loaded, and my breath caught in my throat.

It was a parenting album.

The first photo was a four- or five-year-old boy holding a sign that said Happy New Year, his eyes curved in a bright smile. He was hugging a box of LEGO. The caption read, 'Daddy's New Year's gift—baby's over the moon.'

I scrolled up.

October: 'Fifth birthday—Daddy took us to the beach as promised.'

August: 'First parent-teacher conference—Daddy looked so handsome in a suit.'

May: 'Baby got sick—Daddy stayed up with him all night…'

The earliest photo dated back five years. It was a close-up of a newborn's tiny feet, captioned, 'Our little prince is here. Six pounds, eight ounces. Daddy cried.'

So, it wasn't that he didn't want to be a dad because he already was one.

And to think I believed his bullshit, his claims that a life with just the two of us was enough for him. What did that make me?

I put the phone back where it was and lay down again.

I stayed awake until dawn with my eyes open. When morning came, I acted as if nothing had happened. I got up, washed up, and got dressed. I made sure to behave as though it were any other morning. Only after he left the house did I grab my keys and follow him.

After several twists and turns, he entered a residential neighborhood. I took a deep breath and was just about to ring the bell when I heard a child's laughter from inside.

A moment later, a woman's gentle voice followed. "Baby, stop messing around and put away the New Year's gift your daddy gave you."

My blood turned to ice.

'Daddy?'

My hand hung in midair, unable to press the doorbell.

Soon, another voice came from inside. It was one I knew better than my own heartbeat. Zachary's. He sounded warm and indulgent.

"Alright, I promise that we'll go to the theme park next week."

My back sank against the cold wall as I slid down to the floor. My phone slipped from my palm and hit the ground, the screen cracking—just like something inside me.

I drew a long breath and pressed the doorbell.

The door opened, and a little boy poked his head out. He had round cheeks as his eyes sparkled in curiosity. It was the same kid from the photos. He glanced at me and yelled, "Mommy, someone's here!"

A moment later, the last person I thought I'd see stepped into view—Yara Silvers, my college roommate.

She stopped when she saw me. "Estelle? What a coincidence. How did you know I lived here?"

"Tell Zachary to come out," I said evenly. The audacity of her to act as though she had no idea what was going on.

Silence suffocated the living room behind her.

Yara frowned and blocked the doorway. "Zachary? Why would he be here? You've got the wrong place."

She paused, lowering her voice into a warning. "We have a child present. No need to make a scene."

Just then, someone finally appeared from the shadows of the living room.

"Ellie… please let me explain…" Zachary's voice trembled as he walked toward me.

Nevertheless, his behavior… the look he was giving me as though he was the victim of our broken marriage made me sick to the core.