At nine months pregnant, I assumed that bending down to tidy up would be my biggest challenge. But my husband’s growing detachment and an unsettling find in his closet made me doubt everything. When I stumbled upon peculiar bills and a secret he had kept from me, I realized I had no choice but to confront what was driving us apart.
Tidying up while nearly nine months pregnant was draining. Every step sent a dull ache through my back, and my swollen feet throbbed as I inched from one side of the room to the other.
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But the mess had piled up so much that even I, someone who usually brushed off a bit of mess, couldn’t turn a blind eye anymore.
The layer of dust covering every surface felt like a silent accusation, a reminder that I was falling behind. And if I didn’t take care of it, who else would?
As I dusted the shelf lined with our family photos, my fingers hesitated over a frame. A lump rose in my throat as I lifted a picture of Aaron and me.
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The happiness in our faces was so pure back then. I could still hear the echoes of our laughter—that unforgettable moment when we sliced into the cake and revealed the blue frosting, met with cheers and excitement. We were having a son. I truly believed it was the best day of my life.
Aaron’s mother had gone on and on about how I’d soon understand what it meant to raise boys, just as she had.
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There was an edge to her voice, as if she wasn’t fully embracing me into her world.
From the very beginning, she had made it clear that she didn’t approve of me and never hesitated to express that I wasn’t the right woman for her son.
I did everything I could to earn her approval, but no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough.
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A tear slipped down my cheek as I put the frame back. That picture didn’t feel real anymore.
Lately, Aaron barely looked at me. He was quiet, distracted, and distant. He came home late without explanations, leaving me to wonder and worry.
I couldn’t help but feel like he was hiding something, even though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn’t.
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I heard the door creak open and quickly made my way to the hallway, trying to push aside the growing unease in my chest. Aaron stood there, looking drained and lost in thought.
“Hey,” I said, forcing warmth into my tone.
“Hey,” he replied, barely glancing at me.
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I paused, unsure of how to start. “I’ve been cleaning all afternoon,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “And while I was dusting, I couldn’t help but think about your mom. As my due date draws closer, I realize I haven’t heard from her in a while.”
I forced a smile, attempting to make it sound casual. “Do you think she’s finally starting to warm up to me now that I’m about to join the ‘boy mom’ club?”
Aaron shrugged, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know,” he muttered, brushing past me toward the bedroom.
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I trailed behind him, watching as he swapped his work clothes for jeans and a plain shirt. It wasn’t the usual laid-back outfit he wore when he wanted to unwind at home.
“Are you heading out?” I asked, my heart tightening.
“Yeah, just some errands,” he replied, not looking at me.
“What kind of errands?” I pressed, the tension creeping into my voice.
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“Nothing major,” he said, heading toward the door.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” I raised my voice, following him. “You hardly say anything anymore! If you’re cheating, just tell me!”
Aaron froze and spun around to face me, his eyes wide with shock. “Cheating? Veronica, no. How could you even think that?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” I cried, my voice cracking.
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“I’m not cheating. I just… I’m going through some things. I didn’t want to worry you, especially with the stress you’re already under,” he said, placing a hand gently on my belly.
“And now? Do I look calm to you?” I snapped, tears welling in my eyes.
Aaron sighed, his tone soft. “It’s fine. You’re overthinking it,” he said, leaning down to kiss my forehead before heading out the door.
I stood there, feeling empty, as if the breath had been knocked out of me. My mind raced with unanswered questions that I couldn’t quiet.
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My heart ached as I stared at my phone, hoping for some kind of clarity. I texted my friend Katherine, feeling desperate to make sense of the confusion swirling in my mind.
@Me
Something’s off with Aaron. He’s distant, and I know he’s hiding something.
@Katherine
I’ve read that many men cheat when their wives are pregnant because they don’t find them attractive anymore.
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I swallowed hard, rereading her message. My chest tightened as I typed out my response.
@Me
Do you think that’s possible?
@Katherine
You should check his stuff.
Her suggestion made me pause, but doubt kept eating away at me. I turned off my phone and walked to the bedroom, heart racing.
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Opening Aaron’s closet felt like crossing a boundary, but my hands moved without my permission.
I rifled through drawers and shelves, my breath shallow, until I found a small gift box hidden behind a pile of sweaters.
My stomach dropped as I lifted the lid. Inside, there was lace lingerie—delicate and clearly expensive.
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My hands shook uncontrollably. Aaron had never given me anything like this before. This wasn’t for me.
I grabbed my phone, the tears blurring my vision as I typed, barely able to keep it together.
@Me
Where are you???
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The message remained unread. I collapsed onto the bed, gripping the box, crying until exhaustion finally took over.
Sleep came, but it brought no peace—only a restless blur of worry. My marriage felt like it was unraveling, and I was powerless to fix it.
The next morning, I woke to an unnerving silence. I glanced over at Aaron’s side of the bed. It was untouched.
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Had he even come home? I couldn’t recall hearing the door or his footsteps. A tight knot formed in my stomach as I slowly made my way downstairs.
When I reached the kitchen, I froze. There, sitting neatly on the counter, was a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
He had been here. My eyes lingered on the food, but I had no appetite. This wasn’t an apology—it was avoidance. He thought breakfast would make everything better.
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I picked up the plate, ready to throw it away, but something caught my eye in the trash bin.
Amid crumpled napkins and wrappers was a pile of shredded paper. There was something about it that seemed intentional. My curiosity got the better of me, and I set the plate down, pulling the scraps out of the bin.
At the table, I carefully started piecing them together, my hands trembling. They were bills, though the details were fragmented.
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No addresses, no logos—just numbers and dates. My mind raced with a flood of unanswered questions.
I pushed the papers aside and collapsed into a chair. I couldn’t keep guessing. I needed the truth—from Aaron.
So I sat, staring at the clock, my resolve firm. I would confront him the moment he walked through that door.
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That evening, as Aaron stepped inside, I sat motionless in the kitchen. Scattered across the table were the torn bills I had painstakingly reassembled. My pulse quickened as his gaze fell on them.
“Do you have an explanation for this?” I asked, my tone controlled but firm.
Aaron froze, his eyes flicking over the papers. “Great. I meant to take the trash out,” he muttered, his jaw tightening.
“That’s your response?” My voice wavered, frustration bubbling to the surface.
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“Veronica, I—”
“What? You’ve been distant, sneaking off, and I find lingerie that isn’t mine! Now this?” I smacked my palm against the table, my frustration boiling over.
Aaron let out a slow breath, his posture slumping. “They’re medical bills,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
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“Medical bills? For who?” I demanded, frustration twisting into confusion.
“My mom,” Aaron admitted quietly.
“Sara? She’s sick? Why didn’t you say anything?” I stepped forward, my chest tightening.
“I didn’t want to add to your stress. You have enough on your plate. And with how things are between you two… I figured you wouldn’t be happy about me using our money for her, especially with the baby almost here,” he said, avoiding my gaze.
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“Aaron, that’s absurd! She’s your mother. If she’s unwell, of course, I’d want to be there for both of you,” I said, my tone unwavering.
“I didn’t consider that,” he confessed, his expression falling.
“And the lingerie?” I questioned, folding my arms.
“It was meant for you. You’ve been feeling uncertain about yourself, so I thought it might help you feel cherished,” he murmured softly.
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I let out a deep breath, my frustration shifting into weariness. “I’m still hurt. You kept all of this from me. I’m your wife, Aaron. It stings that you didn’t trust me enough.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice filled with regret.
“I need some space to process,” I said, sinking back into my seat.
Aaron gave a nod and quietly left, the sound of the front door closing echoing through the still house. The silence enveloped me once more.
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Two hours later, I found myself standing outside Sara’s hospital room, a box containing her favorite cherry pie in my hands. My nerves were on edge, but I knocked gently. The door creaked open as I stepped inside.
Aaron was sitting next to her, holding her hand. His expression lit up when he spotted me.
“Veronica?” Sara said, her voice filled with surprise as she propped herself up.
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“No, please stay seated,” I said quickly, moving closer. “I brought you a cherry pie. I remembered it’s your favorite.”
Sara’s gaze softened. “Oh, thank you, Veronica. That’s really sweet of you.”
I paused for a moment before speaking. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to visit,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.
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“It’s not your fault,” Sara said, shaking her head. “I know Aaron didn’t tell you. We didn’t want to worry you.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I replied, meeting her eyes. “I know we don’t always get along, but in times like this, support matters. Family matters.”
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Sara nodded, her face reflecting sincerity. “You’re right. I know I haven’t been the easiest mother-in-law. I’ve treated you unfairly. This illness has given me a lot to think about. I’m sorry, Veronica. I’ll make an effort to back off.”
Aaron grinned. “Effort? That’s all?” he teased.
Sara chuckled quietly. “Well, don’t expect instant change. Some habits are tough to shake.”
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I shook my head with a soft laugh, easing the tension. Aaron rose, walked over, and carefully placed his hand on my belly.
Sara looked at me, not with her usual judgment, but with something that felt like understanding. It seemed like the walls between us might finally be starting to come down.
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