They all like the homewrecker bitch, and they'll regret it!

My husband brought his mistress to my daughter's Parent-Teacher Conference.

My husband had his arm around her waist. They stood by Sophie's desk like a perfect little family.

The teacher smiled. "Sophie, which one of these lovely ladies is your mommy?"

Vivian stepped forward. "I'm Sophie's mommy."

I waited for my daughter to correct her.

Sophie didn't even look at me.

I was standing in the doorway holding thirty-two cupcakes I'd been up since 4 AM to bake.

And my own child pretended I didn't exist.

So I walked to the only kid in the room with no parents, knelt beside him, and said, "I'm Leo's mom. Sorry I'm late.

That boy's real father walked in five minutes later.

Julian Ashford. My brother's best friend. The man who asked me out at nineteen and vanished without a word.

Now he was standing behind me, his hand on my shoulder, whispering two words in my ear.

"Play along."

******

Mia

I’d spent all night fighting with that damn buttercream.

I’d been up since four AM, measuring flour like my life depended on it.

Today was Parent-Teacher Conference Day, and I wanted everything to be perfect.

Thirty-two cupcakes sat in a pink bakery box, each topped with a sugar flower. My fingers ached from the piping bag, but I didn't care. Maybe if they were beautiful enough, Sophie would remember I was the mom who knew her favorite things.

I pushed open the classroom door. The smell of crayons and hand sanitizer hit me. Then, my heart stopped.

Ethan stood across the room. His arm was wrapped around Vivian Cho’s waist. They were flanking Sophie’s desk, a perfect family of three. There was no space for me.

Vivian looked polished in an expensive tweed jacket. Her heels clicked against the linoleum as she leaned closer to my daughter.

Sophie was wearing a navy blue dress I’d never seen before. Her hair was in an intricate French braid—the kind she usually screamed was "too tight" when I tried to do it. Today, she wore it without a word.

"Sophie, your family looks lovely," Ms. Patterson beamed. "Which one of these beautiful ladies is your mommy?"

Vivian stepped forward, her smile radiant. "I'm Sophie's mommy."

The words felt like a punch to the gut. I watched the other parents whisper in admiration. Vivian was everything they wanted to be. Put-together. Perfect. The kind of mother who never showed up in yesterday's yoga pants.

Sophie looked up at Vivian. I waited for her to correct the teacher. I waited for her to look for me.

Instead, Sophie beamed, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at her. She leaned against the woman’s legs, tilting her head. "Is my Mommy pretty?"

Flattery instantly erupted from the crowd. "Of course, sweetheart. Your mom is absolutely stunning."

And my husband? He didn't even bother to correct them. Instead, he just stood there, looking at them with such pride that it made my skin crawl. He was smiling—a real,