My Husband Kissed His Mistress While I Was Pregnant

The baby pressed against my ribs like a small fist trying to escape. Two in the morning, and sleep had become a distant country I could no longer visit. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, the blue light harsh against my eyes in the darkness of our bedroom.

Landon slept beside me, his breathing deep and even. The man who had promised me forever, who had held my hand through every prenatal appointment, who whispered against my belly that he couldn't wait to meet our son. I scrolled through an anonymous gossip forum — the kind of digital trash I never admitted to reading, filled with college girls rating frat parties and posting photos of their weekend exploits.

That's when I saw it.

A post that had gone viral in the small, toxic ecosystem of the forum: 'Guess who's dating a CEO?' The girl was young — twenty-one, according to her profile. Her face was pretty in that fresh, uncomplicated way that belonged to people who hadn't yet discovered how much life could hurt them. But it was the photo that made my thumb freeze above the screen.

A man's hand holding a champagne flute. A distinctive mole on the right hand.

I zoomed in. My own breath caught in my throat.

The Ritz-Carlton keycard was visible on the nightstand behind the champagne bottle. The hotel where Landon had claimed to have three business meetings last month. But it was the boarding pass in the background that finished me. L.H. — Landon Hughes. Departure date: the weekend he'd told me he was visiting his college roommate in Boston.

My hands were shaking as I screenshot every detail. The hotel room number. The date stamp. The girl's username, which I later discovered was Karsyn Clark, an NYU senior. I forwarded everything to a private email account Landon didn't know about, then cleared my browser history with the methodical precision of someone burying a body.

I lay back down beside him, my hand resting on my swollen belly, my eyes open to the darkness. The baby kicked again, as if sensing the shift in the air. I said nothing. I did nothing. I simply watched the ceiling and waited for morning to come.

When Landon kissed my forehead at breakfast, his lips warm against my skin, I smiled back. 'How's my boy treating you?' he asked, one hand on my shoulder as he adjusted his tie.

'Active,' I said. 'He's going to be a soccer player.'

Landon laughed — that easy, confident laugh I'd fallen in love with nine years ago, when we were both broke and dreaming. 'Perfect. I'll teach him everything I know.'

He left for the gym, gym bag slung over his shoulder, phone in hand. I waited until his car pulled out of the driveway before I moved.

The credit card statements were in his home office, filed neatly in a drawer labeled 'Taxes.' Three separate charges at the Ritz-Carlton in the past six months. Jewelry