She Told Me to Take a Vacation,I Never Came Back

Unfortunately, the adult world was never that simple.

After dinner, I spotted a new post on Melissa's best friend's Instagram stories and raised an eyebrow.

The wedding dress photos didn't show a face, but the small red birthmark on the woman's neck was unmistakable.

Melissa had the same one.

In another photo, her fingers were laced with a man's, and her ring finger bore the faint indentation of a band.

The watch on the man's wrist was one I recognized.

It belonged to Elwin.

The caption read: "The moon I once missed has come back to light my way again."

Those words were familiar.

I rushed into the study and moved Melissa's laptop aside. Beneath it sat a notebook. The moment I flipped it open, that exact sentence stared back at me from the first page.

Every piece of evidence pointed to the same conclusion: this account didn't belong to some best friend. It was Melissa's own.

"The trip to Northern Europe."

"A fictional friend's wedding and a fake text thread."

"Melissa, the lengths you've gone to lie to me, the schemes you've cooked up for Elwin Fox..."

I muttered the words under my breath, then picked up my phone and typed out a message.

[Save me a spot on the partnership.]

[And have your lawyer draft me a divorce agreement.]

A few months back, my childhood best friend had invited me to join a startup in Northern Europe. Thirty percent equity, no capital required. The other two partners had agreed without hesitation because they valued what I brought to the table.

But I had a wife and a son. Stability was all I wanted, so I kept turning him down.

Not anymore.

Close to midnight, Melissa stumbled through the door, reeking of alcohol. Her hands were empty. No gifts. Her hair clung to her cheeks in damp strands, and the black stockings beneath her red dress were torn in several places.

She looked like a mess.

"Honey, you're still up? Were you waiting for me?" She flashed a coy smile. "You bad man, always wanting to keep me up."

She turned and disappeared into the bathroom without another word.

Before tonight, she would have hugged me first.

The thought settled in my chest like a stone.

Then I heard muffled sobbing and hurried to Freddie's room.

"What's wrong? Bad dream?"

Freddie shook his head. His small finger pointed at the phone screen.

I looked down. Minnie Fox had posted on Instagram stories.

She was sitting at a pink piano, clutching a tablet, beaming from ear to ear. The caption read: [Thank you to the best mommy in the whole world for my limited-edition custom piano!]

"Daddy."

"I saw that piano on Mommy's computer. And the tablet too."

One sentence, thick with hurt, and it nearly broke me.

I finally understood why Freddie was crying.

Melissa always said, "Boys need to be raised tough, or they'll grow up spoiled." So she was strict with Freddie. He'd ask for a toy, and the answer was almost always no. Even this phone was a hand-me-down of mine. I'd sneak him out for fun when I could, and every time Melissa found out, she'd be furious with me.

That was why she'd bribed him with a toy car earlier. To keep him quiet.

And tonight, before she left, she'd promised to bring gifts back for both of us. She came home empty-handed.

Lying to me was one thing.

But how could she lavish another man's daughter with everything her heart desired while being so cold and dishonest with her own son?

"It's okay, buddy."

"Daddy will get it for you."

I soothed Freddie until his eyes finally closed, then walked back to the living room and sank into the couch.

When Melissa came out, I kept my voice level, though every word burned on the way up.

"Didn't you say you were bringing Freddie a gift?"

"Oh, I forgot! Totally slipped my mind."

She let out an awkward laugh and threw herself into my arms. "I'll get him something next time. He's a boy. Boys need to be raised tough, remember?"