He claimed he had to leave for a work trip. “We’ll celebrate later,” he said, suitcase in hand. I swallowed my disappointment and waved him off like always.
The next morning, my mom invited me to help her shop for a baby gift. Hours later, as we walked past a restaurant, she suddenly froze. “Look,” she whispered.
Inside, I saw Liam. With Mandy—my best friend. Laughing. Sharing food. Kissing.
“He said he was out of town,” I muttered.
Mom snapped a few photos. “We’ll handle this smart,” she said.
Two days later, Liam returned. I smiled like nothing was wrong. Then, Friday came. I invited Mandy and her husband, Steve, over for dinner. With a fake pregnancy test and hidden nanny cams ready, I set the trap.
“I’m pregnant,” I announced. “And the father is… Steve.”
Chaos. Denials. And finally, the truth—from hidden audio of Mandy and Liam.
Steve kicked Mandy out. I told Liam to pack.
There was no baby. Just justice. I didn’t win—but I left with my dignity and a clean slate.
Would you have waited like I did?
