My Husband Took Paternity Leave. But I Wasn't Pregnant

On my first day as general manager of the Midwest regional office, HR manager Rachel Morgan came to see me. "Ms. Hayes, there's a special leave request that needs your approval." "Sales director Ethan Cole. He wants to extend his paternity leave by twenty days." My stomach dropped. Ethan Cole was my husband. A baby. With someone else. Since when? I'd come back from New York headquarters to surprise him. Turns out, I was the one in for a surprise. I opened the system and pulled up the request. The cursor slid to the Approve button. I clicked. Then I opened his personnel file and hit Termination. Enjoy your paternity leave, Ethan. You're fired. ... I closed the request page. "Rachel, what's this Ethan Cole like around the office?" Rachel looked like she'd been waiting for this. The second I asked, she was off. "Ms. Hayes, Ethan's practically the office's model husband." "He's well-liked, and his numbers are top-notch." "And the best part? He absolutely dotes on his wife." I turned the pen between my fingers. Rachel kept going. "You just got here, so you wouldn't know." "Every time we have a team-building event, or the year-end dinner—" "Ethan always brings his wife." "The way those two look at each other—honestly, it's a little much." My pen stopped. "Is that so? What does his wife look like?" Rachel immediately pulled out her phone. "I've got a photo. Took it at the last team-building thing." She held up a group shot. Ethan stood dead center, arm around a very pregnant woman. Both of them beaming. My stomach turned over. I'd never seen this woman before in my life. But the way Ethan looked at her—I knew that look. Back when we first started dating, he used to look at me like that every single day. After we got married, it just... stopped. I told myself it was the pressure. The long hours. Turns out, all that tenderness was going to someone else. "What's her name?" "Sophia Bennett." Rachel put her phone away. "I hear she's a dance teacher." "Sweet, soft-spoken type." "Ethan gives her whatever she wants." "Last time, Sophia had her eye on a Chanel bag. Ethan didn't even blink—just swiped his card." "Several thousand dollars. Not a second thought." My mouth twitched. That Chanel bag? I bought it last month on a business trip to Paris. Hadn't even had the chance to use it yet. Ethan said a big client's wife had a birthday coming up and he needed a gift fast. So he took the bag. Said he'd buy me a better one when his bonus came in next month. And I believed him. What a dutiful wife I'd been. I tossed the pen onto the desk. "That's enough. You can go." After Rachel left, the only sound in my office was my own breathing. I picked up my phone and dialed Ethan. It rang for a long time before he picked up. "Hey, babe." His voice sounded tired. "Where are you?" I asked. "Where else? Out meeting clients." I gripped the phone tighter. "I'm coming home tonight." There was a pause on the other end. "Really? Why didn't you say so earlier?" His voice rose a little. He sounded pleasantly surprised. "I'll run out and get groceries, make your favorite pot roast." He hadn't even finished his sentence when I heard it—a baby crying. Faint. But unmistakable. "Babe, something's come up. I've gotta go."

The busy tone droned on. I set the phone face-down on the desk. A few seconds passed. Then I picked it up again and dialed another number. "Hey, Vanessa. I need you to look into someone for me." Vanessa was my oldest friend. She knew a lot of people. "Who is it? You piss off another exec at headquarters?" "Sophia Bennett. Dance teacher." "What about her?" "Ethan's been keeping her on the side. She just had his baby." "Son of a bitch!" Vanessa exploded. "That bastard! Say the word, Diana, and I'll have someone go over there right now and break his legs!" I held the phone. My fingers were ice-cold. "Not yet." I said it perfectly calmly. Vanessa went quiet. "Diana, you're scaring me. Are you okay?" "I'm fine. I need evidence. As much as I can get." "Evidence that'll destroy him. Evidence that'll make sure he never works in this industry again." I hung up and leaned back in my chair, staring out the window. I used to work in this same regional office. Then an opportunity came up at New York headquarters, and I fought tooth and nail to get it. Eventually, I transferred out. Once I was settled in New York, my first thought was to get Ethan out here too. "Come to headquarters. My position's solid now. I can help you get in." "I'm doing fine here. I'm the top salesperson. Moving would mean starting from scratch. Not worth the hassle." I pushed him on it more than once. He always had an excuse. "The regional office is growing fast. If I leave, what happens to my team?" "Babe, tough it out. Seeing each other once a month is fine. A little distance is healthy." He sounded so sincere. So I believed him. I was alone at headquarters, working myself to the bone. Most of my paycheck went straight into his account. I figured, as long as we were okay, a little exhaustion was nothing. Looking back now, I was a joke. I got home from work and opened the door—the smell of pot roast hit me immediately. Ethan poked his head out of the kitchen, apron on. "Babe, you're home. Go wash up, dinner's almost ready." I changed my shoes and sat down at the table. Three dishes and a bowl of soup—all my favorites. Ethan brought out the last dish and sat down next to me. He put the biggest piece on my plate. "Try it. Haven't cooked for you in a while—see if I've still got it." I took a bite. Same taste as always. "It's good," I said. Ethan looked relieved. "Good. Eat up. You've gotten thin." He kept piling food onto my plate until it was a mountain. I set down my fork and looked at him. "Where's your mom? And Lily?" Ethan's hand froze mid-reach. The smile on his face stiffened for a second, then snapped right back. "Look at you. Work's got you all mixed up." "My mom took her back to Ohio a couple days ago. My cousin's getting married—she insisted on bringing Lily to be the flower girl." He put the food on his own plate and lowered his head, continuing to eat. He was good. I'll give him that. I nodded. "Oh. Right." Dinner was silent. He made small talk—asked how headquarters was treating me, whether my boss was easy to deal with. I gave him vague, noncommittal answers. After dinner, he cleared the dishes. I sat on the couch, watching his back as he busied himself in the kitchen. This man—I'd loved him for ten years. From high school to our wedding. I thought we'd be the happiest couple in the world. He came out after washing up, drying his hands on a towel. "Babe, there's something I need to tell you." "Work's sending me on a business trip tomorrow. I'll be gone a little over twenty days." He walked over to me, a note of apology in his voice. "You've only just come home, and now I have to leave. I was hoping we'd get more time together." I looked up at him. "Over twenty days?" "Yeah. Got a big client out there. It's urgent." I smiled. "It's fine. I'll head back to the office tomorrow too." His whole body relaxed. "That's my girl. Always so understanding." He leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head away. "I'm tired. Going to shower first." Ethan's hand hung in mid-air. I didn't look back. I walked into the bathroom.

Ethan left early the next morning. Vanessa called. "Jesus Christ, Diana. That bastard is garbage!" "They've been together for three years." "He's got her set up at The Ashford. The most expensive postpartum retreat in the state. VIP suite, room 8808. $120,000 a month." Vanessa was breathing hard on the other end, barely able to get the words out. "I'm going over there right now. I'll make sure those two never forget today." I looked out the window. "No. I'll go myself." I hung up, grabbed my car keys, and left. The lobby of The Ashford was blindingly bright, the air thick with fresh flowers and the kind of quiet that only money can buy.. "Good morning, ma'am. Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist's smile was perfectly rehearsed. "A friend recommended this place. Just looking around." "Of course. I'll have one of our consultants give you a tour." A consultant named Karen led me inside. The wool carpet underfoot was so thick it swallowed every sound. She kept listing the luxury services they offered. "Our security is extremely tight. Every room is fully private. Our guests value their privacy." "For example, the guest in 8808." She pointed to the door at the end of the hall. I stopped walking. "Can I see that one?" "I'm sorry, ma'am. That room is occupied." "My friend is staying here. I'll just pop in and say hello." I didn't waste another word. I brushed past her and put my hand on the door handle of 8808. Karen tried to stop me. "Ma'am, you can't—" I turned my wrist. The door cracked open. Laughter spilled out. "Sophia, one more bite, honey. I made this for you this morning." It was Margaret—Ethan's mother. I peered through the gap. Sophia was propped up in bed, looking perfectly healthy. Margaret sat at her bedside, holding a plate, cutting the food into tiny pieces and feeding them to her one by one. The kind of care I had never once received from that woman in my entire life. Ethan sat at the edge of the bed, a tiny baby in his arms, grinning from ear to ear. "Sweetheart, you've been through so much." Ethan leaned down and kissed Sophia on the forehead. My daughter Lily—the one who was supposed to be in Ohio as a flower girl—was leaning against the side of the bed. She tilted her little face up toward the woman in the bed and called out sweetly. "Mommy, I want to hold my baby brother too." Sophia smiled and patted Lily's head. "Lily's such a good girl. Once your baby brother gets a little bigger, you can hold him." My hand was still on the cold door handle. I thought about when I gave birth to Lily. C-section. Seven stitches. For the first two weeks, even coughing felt like something was ripping inside me. The day I was discharged, I arranged my own ride home. Ethan said a client had scheduled a last-minute dinner. He couldn't get away. Margaret came once. She stood by the bassinet for twenty minutes and didn't say a single word to me. On her way out, she paused at the door and looked back at me. "When I had Ethan, I was looking after him on my own within days." "You should try doing things on your own. Stop expecting everyone to wait on you." Those six weeks—no night nurse, no doula, not one person who asked if I was in pain. After giving birth, I lived on half a carton of leftover takeout from the fridge. Ethan was always busy. Business trips. Client dinners. I'd be lucky to see him a few times a month. Every time Lily cried at night, I had to drag myself up to feed her, change her. One time I was in so much pain I couldn't stand. I begged him to help me, just once. He just rolled over. "esus, Diana. I have a meeting at seven." The nausea surged again. My hand found the bag. Found the recorder. My thumb pressed record. I didn't feel it click.