I always thought that the happiest day of my life was the day I married Michael. But then we found out that I was pregnant, and I figured that the day I gave birth to our baby was going to be the happiest.

Little did I know that it would be the beginning of a nightmare. Michael had promised me that he would be there, holding my hand as we welcomed our first child into the world.

We had planned every detail together, from the music that would play in the delivery room to the tiny hat he would place on our baby’s head.

But when the time came, Michael just wasn’t there.

I remember the nurses’ sympathetic smiles as they assured me that he was probably just delayed. With each passing minute, the sinking feeling in my stomach grew worse.

I had been calling him for hours, leaving desperate voicemails, but there was no response. As the contractions intensified, so did my fear. Was I really about to do this by myself? What could have kept him from being here?

“Come on, Michael,” I said through gritted teeth.

When my daughter arrived, I was overwhelmed with joy, but it was tainted by the empty spot beside me where my husband should have been. Where was Michael? Why hadn’t he shown up?

My mother was with me throughout, holding my hand when Michael should have been, but I could see the worry in her eyes, too. And if she knew anything, she certainly didn’t tell me.

“Just relax, Elena,” my mother said. “Focus on Emily now. And yourself; your body needs a moment.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m just worried.”

After two days in the hospital, I was finally discharged. My mother helped me carry Emily to the car, and we headed home. The ride was silent, and my mother kept drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.

I tried to keep myself calm, telling myself that there must be a reasonable explanation for Michael’s absence. Maybe something happened at work. Maybe he’d had an accident and was away in another hospital.

The scenarios grew wilder with each mile we drove.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I found when we got home.

The house was eerily quiet. I pushed open the door, half-expecting Michael to be waiting inside with some excuse that I could forgive after seeing the look on his face.

“Michael?” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty rooms. “Michael, are you here?”

No answer.

“Be quiet, Elena,” my mother said. “Emily is sleeping.”

I ignored her and hurried upstairs. I had to check the nursery; maybe he was in there, just waiting for us to come home. We had spent weeks perfecting our daughter’s nursery to exactly how I envisioned it throughout my pregnancy.

But when I opened the door to the nursery, my breath caught in my throat.

The room was almost empty. The crib was there, but all the decorations, the stuffed animals, our daughter’s outfits, and the blankets we had lovingly chosen together were gone. All that remained was a single piece of paper, placed neatly inside the crib.

I love you and our baby, Elena. But I have to leave forever. Ask your mom why she did this. I’ve taken some of Emily’s things to remember you both.

I stared at the note, my mind struggling to make sense of the words. What did Michael mean? Why did he have to leave? And what did my mother have to do with any of this?

“Mom!” I shouted, trying to get down the stairs as fast as my postpartum body would allow. I clutched onto the note tightly as I thundered into the living room where she was sitting on the couch with Emily asleep in her arms.

“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the note at her. “What did you do? Where is my husband?”

She looked at me with heavy eyes. And for a moment, I saw a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place. Guilt? Regret?

“I didn’t want you to find out this way…” she said quietly.

“What? Find out what?” I nearly screamed at her. “What are you talking about? Tell me now!”

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for what she was about to say.

“I found out something about Michael, honey. And it was just too big to keep to myself. He needed to know that I knew.”

“Knew what? Why are you talking in riddles?” I asked closing my eyes, suddenly exhausted.

“He’s been having an affair, darling,” she said. “With someone from his office. Imagine the nerve.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, and I had to sit down quickly.

“No, Mom,” I found myself saying. “That can’t be true at all. Michael wouldn’t do that to us. He loves me! And he’s been so excited about our baby and growing our little family!”

“I wish it wasn’t true, darling. Do you think I enjoyed being right?” she asked softly. “I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. They were talking about meeting at a motel. I confronted him about it, and he admitted it. He’s been seeing his boss, a woman who’s much wealthier than we could have ever dreamed. She’s been offering him things he couldn’t refuse.”

“You mean… the promotion? It wasn’t just hard work? And the car wasn’t just because he made a big deal for the company?” I gasped.

My chest felt tight, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, tears streaming down my face as my lower pelvis ached. “Why didn’t you give me the chance to talk to him? A chance to fix it?”

“Oh, honey,” my mother said soothingly. “I gave him the chance. I told him that he had to tell you everything or leave, for good. I knew that if he told you everything, it would mean that he was still a good man with redeeming qualities. But see this? He chose to leave you, to leave Emily.”

For a moment, I didn’t want to believe my mother. I wanted to believe Michael, and that there was more to this story. How else could my mother have sat there during my labor, holding my hand while knowing the truth?

It made no sense to me.

Well, one thing made sense to me. My mother had never really taken to Michael in the way I had hoped. She tolerated him and liked that he took care of me. But there was nothing beyond that. They had no other relationship beyond me.

What if my mother just wanted him out?

Unknowingly, I said all these thoughts out loud.

“Really? Elena! You think I’d purposely hurt my daughter and jeopardize her relationship with her father?” my mother cried. “He hurt you by choosing to have an affair. I can tell you everything you need to know, but I need you to believe me.”

This couldn’t be happening. My husband, the man I had trusted with my life, had betrayed me, and my mother had forced him to leave without giving me the chance to even hear him out.

“You shouldn’t have taken that choice away from me,” I said. “You should have let me decide what to do!”

My mother gripped my thigh tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Elena,” she said. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want you to suffer more than you already did; this pregnancy was a lot on your body and mind, my darling.”

She seemed earnest enough, but I couldn’t help but be angry with her. All I could think about was how everything I had known, everything I had believed in, had been ripped away in an instant.

My husband was gone, and probably off with his mistress, my mother had betrayed my trust, and I was left alone with a newborn and a broken heart.

Emily’s eyes opened, and before I knew it, her little mouth twisted into a cry.

“She’s hungry,” my mother said. “Maybe one day, when Emily goes through something where she needs her mother to protect her more than give her a choice, you’ll understand why I did what I did.”

I nodded.

“I’m sure you’re right, Mom,” I said, slipping my shirt off my arm to feed my little girl. “But I need some space for a little while. I need to adjust to being a single parent right now.”

“But you’re not alone, Elena!” my mother exclaimed. “Michael may have chosen to leave you, but I’m still here. I’m right there to love and support you. And your little girl.”

“I know that,” I said. “But this is the choice I’m making.”

“I’ll make you some food and then I’ll leave,” my mother said. “Please, let me do that. Let me plan meals for a week. Okay?”

“Fine,” I said, grateful for the assistance even though I didn’t want to look at her.

In the days that followed our hospital return, I thought about Michael’s behavior closer. Of course he was having an affair. There were endless late nights and shared dinners with “colleagues over business.” It was clear now, that during those intimate hours, Michael and his boss were becoming closer.

I tried to contact Michael many times, but it always went to voicemail. Until one day, when he answered by accident. I could tell he had no intention of answering the phone because his voice was thick with sleep.

“Michael?” I asked.

“Elena?” he gasped.

“Is it true?” I asked.

“Yes. All of it,” he said. “I’m not coming back. I was excited to start my life with you and our baby, but I’ve grown to love Gretchen and our lives together. I have to give this a chance. And the least I can do is transfer the house to your name only. Gretchen’s lawyers will do it soon.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

Michael never contacted me again, and I didn’t reach out either. He disappeared from my life as quickly as he had entered it. But at least my daughter didn’t meet him and get to experience any of that.

She was safely away from Michael.