Husband Leaves Pregnant Wife for Influencer Until Parents Deliver Wedding Photo Gift

The wooden leg of the crib lay across the lavender carpet, its pre-drilled holes slightly misaligned. I sat on the floor with my palm flat against my lower back, holding a small silver screw that did not seem to fit any of the joints of the two-hundred-and-eighty-nine-dollar frame.

The room still smelled of fresh lavender paint, a scent we had chosen together only three weeks ago. It was supposed to be a peaceful space, but the unfinished wood felt cold under my fingers.

Margot walked in, carrying a plastic basket piled high with folded white onesies. She stopped near the doorway, her thumb twirling a blue hair elastic around her wrist.

“Mom, did Dad have a big meeting in Chicago?” Margot asked.

“He said he had to see a client before the weekend,” I said, leaning against the unfinished pine headboard. “He has been working late every night this month.”

“He took all his suits,” she said, setting the basket down on the changing table. “Even the dark gray one from the back of the closet.”

I looked down at the screw in my hand. “He probably wanted options for the dinners.”

“The hangers are all on the floor,” Margot said. “Every single one of them. He didn’t even put them back.”

I set the screw on the windowsill and pulled myself up using the edge of the changing table. My eighth month was wearing on my joints, and the baby gave a sharp, low kick against my ribs.

“He is just being thorough,” I said.

“You picked an unusual time to say that,” Margot whispered, looking at the half-assembled crib.

I walked down the narrow hallway to our bedroom, my slippers silent on the floorboards. The door was half-open, casting a narrow sliver of yellow light onto the hallway runner.

Evan stood by the cherry wood dresser with a tan suitcase open on the mattress. He did not look up when the door clicked against the frame, his hands busy smoothing a folded blue shirt into the corner of the case.

“Margot says you cleared out your closet,” I said, standing by the dresser.

Author

  • Andrew Collins is a contributor who enjoys writing about everyday topics, people, and ideas that spark curiosity. His approach is simple and conversational, aiming to make stories easy to read and relatable. Outside of writing, Andrew follows current trends, enjoys long walks, and likes turning small observations into meaningful stories.

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