I’m 34 and thought my marriage to Logan was solid. When I left for a short work trip, I checked the baby monitor and saw a woman I didn’t know tucking in my one-year-old son, Ben, kissing him like she belonged. I called Logan—he wasn’t home, went silent, muttered “damn,” and hung up.
Panicking, I called my brother, who rushed over. He overheard Logan arguing with the woman, who said, “When you divorce your wife, Ben will be my son too.” I flew home immediately. Logan admitted she was his mistress and that he’d left Ben alone with her while he ran errands.
That ended everything. I filed for divorce and got full custody, allowing Logan limited visitation for Ben’s sake. Weeks later, I found the woman online, booked a session with her under a fake name, calmly showed her the photo of her kissing my son, and handed her a therapist’s card before walking away.
Logan still says he’s changed. I don’t answer.