My Husband Said We Couldn’t Afford Preschool — Then I Found Out He Was Secretly Paying Someone’s Rent

 


The kitchen counter was buried in preschool brochures. I’d spent weeks searching for the right place for Emily—curious, bright, and craving more than I could give while juggling freelance work from our dining table.

She held up a purple crayon drawing. “I drew a cat!”

“It’s perfect,” I said, kissing her head. She deserved more than distracted parenting.

One brochure stood out: Little Explorers Academy. At $1,100/month, it wasn’t cheap, but we could cut back. I was ready to sacrifice. I thought Greg would be too.

When he got home, I showed him the brochure. “It’s perfect for Emily.”

He barely looked at it. “We can’t afford that.”

“But we can—if we prioritize.”

“I said no.” His voice was final. Emily peeked in, worried. Greg softened instantly. “Daddy’s just tired.”

Something felt off. Our finances weren’t dire. I watched him closely—late nights, guarded phone calls, changed passwords. When I confronted him, he insisted it was stress. I wanted to believe him.

Then, while spring cleaning, I found a receipt: $3,400 paid monthly for a luxury apartment. Not ours.

The Grand Apartments.

When I visited, it wasn’t a mistress behind the door—it was Meryl, Greg’s mother, lounging in silk pajamas. “He wants me to be comfortable,” she said, unapologetic.

“And our daughter’s education isn’t a priority?”

“I raised him alone. Now it’s his turn.”

Back home, I packed his things. When Greg walked in, I told him: “Go stay with your mother. Figure out your priorities.”


I enrolled Emily in Little Explorers. I worked harder, slept less—but she flourished. Greg saw her on weekends. Two months later, he showed up at our door.

“Mom’s gone to Miami. With a boyfriend. She maxed out my cards.”

He looked defeated. “You were right. I let her manipulate me. I betrayed you and Emily. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough.”

“I know. But maybe time… and effort?” he asked. “Dinner once a week?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Dinner. We’ll see.”

As he turned to go, I said, “Lie to me again, and there won’t be a second start.”

“I won’t waste this one,” he promised.