The Camera I Installed for Our Baby Became His Love Letter to Her

For an entire year after our daughter was born, my husband slept in the guest room.

For her safety, I'd installed a camera in the master bedroom that ran twenty-four hours a day.

That night, while he was in the shower, his phone kept chiming with one notification after another.

I had never once checked his phone, but in that moment, as if guided by some unseen hand, I picked it up.

In the message thread, almost every night in the small hours, he'd been sending the same woman a clip from that camera, along with a line of text.

"See? I didn't touch her today."

"Don't worry. Just looking at her makes me sick to my stomach. Nothing's going to happen between us."

In those clips, there I was in the middle of the night, hair a mess, pacing the bedroom over and over with the baby in my arms.

There I was, crying, blaming myself because our daughter was sick.

There I was, even, half-dressed and nursing.

Every breakdown, every lonely, ragged hour of my nights had been captured by that camera in perfect clarity.

That camera I'd installed only for our daughter's safety.

And now it had become the blade driven into me, the loyalty token my husband handed to another woman.

I had never gone through Donald Butler's phone, so naturally he'd never bothered to delete a thing.

I kept scrolling up, reading through every little piece of how they'd fallen for each other.

It started with "Nice work on the proposal today. Get some rest."

Then later, "What are you up to? I can't really sleep."

Then, the night they made it official, "Now you have a boyfriend."

After that, it was one clip after another of me in the dead of night, hair wild and face haggard, paired with Donald's vows of devotion.

"Don't worry, I'm sleeping in the study. I haven't touched her."

My hands shook harder and harder until I could barely hold the phone.

So this was what it felt like, watching the intimate details of your husband's romance with another woman.

The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped.

I set the messages back to "mark as unread," then calmly returned the phone to where it had been.

Donald walked over to me, toweling off his wet hair.

"Why are you still sitting in the living room? Not tired tonight?"

I lifted my eyes to look at him.

From eighteen to twenty-eight now. A full ten years.

I had loved this man for ten whole years.

When I didn't answer, Donald set down the towel and sat beside me.

"Why do you look so pale?"

"Are you feeling sick somewhere? Should we go to the hospital and have it checked?"

I drew in a deep breath.

"Donald, come sleep in the bedroom tonight."

Donald had work in the mornings, and after our daughter was born, I'd been the one to move him into the study so I wouldn't disturb his rest. At first he'd been reluctant, but over time we'd both gotten used to sleeping in separate rooms.

This was the first time I'd ever asked him to move back.

Donald froze, as though he hadn't expected me to bring it up.

"Wh why? Why are you suddenly saying this?"

His evasiveness made my heart sink for a moment.

Maybe afraid he'd upset me, Donald softened his voice.

"Rowena Summers, you know how it is. There's a really important project at the company right now, and I've been exhausted lately."

"Besides, I have to work late at odd hours, and you're already worn out taking care of the baby. Teresa Acevedo's still so little."

"I'm afraid I'd disturb you both and keep you from sleeping well."

The tenderness in Donald's eyes brimmed so full it nearly spilled over, and every word out of his mouth was for the good of me and our daughter, exactly the same as he'd been these past ten years.

If I hadn't just seen those messages on his phone, I would have believed every word he said was sincere.

But right now, all I wanted was to ask him.

"Really? Is that really what you think?"

But now wasn't the time.

I forced a smile onto my face.

"Whatever you say."

The instant the words left my mouth, Donald visibly relaxed.

He stood up.

"All right, Rowena. I've still got some work to deal with. I'm heading back to the study."

"You should turn in early too. It's getting late."

I nodded and didn't say anything more.

Only after the study door closed and his figure had vanished completely from my sight did the tension drain out of my back.

My tears came in big, heavy drops.

Donald.

Our daughter is only a year old. How can you bring yourself to walk away from this family?

Early the next morning, Donald left for work as usual.

I didn't start washing up and getting myself ready until after I'd given our daughter her morning feeding.

The woman in the mirror was clearly still the same as before, yet the light in her eyes had long been worn away by daily life.

And that wasn't all.

As a mom who breastfed exclusively, I'd barely set foot outside the house in the year since our daughter was born.

All I ever wore, day in and day out, was one set of pajamas or another, my face bare as I stayed home with her around the clock.

In a flash, I remembered a line I'd seen in Donald's messages the day before.

"The sight of her makes me sick."

At that thought, I walked into the closet and sat down at the vanity.

After more than a year without makeup, my hands were a little rusty, but the muscle memory was still there.

Before long, the bare face in the mirror had turned bright and striking.

I wasn't doing it to prove anything to anyone.

But when a woman sacrifices her own life for marriage and motherhood, that sacrifice shouldn't become a man's talking point.

And it certainly shouldn't become a husband's reason to tear his own wife down.

Once my makeup was done and I'd changed clothes, I got our daughter ready too, then dialed the driver.

"Barret Finch, come pick me up."

"I want to drop by Donald's office."

On the way to the office, I bought plenty of fruit, coffee, and pastries.

This design firm was one Donald and I founded together after college, and a lot of the longtime employees knew me.

It was only later, once the company was on solid footing and I'd gotten married, pregnant, and had a baby, that I gradually stepped back from running it and handed the whole thing over to Donald.

The moment I walked in, the receptionist recognized me right away.

"Rowena! What brings you in today?"

"Oh my gosh, is this your and Mr. Butler's daughter? She's just too cute!"

Smiling, I had the driver carry in the afternoon treats I'd bought.

"Bring these in and pass them around. Everyone works so hard. Take a little break."

The instant I walked into the office area, everyone crowded around.

"Rowena, we've missed you like crazy."

"Rowena's the only one who knows how to spoil us. I was just craving something sweet."

Donald, inside his office, heard the commotion outside too.

The moment he stepped out, his eyes landed straight on me, standing in the middle of the crowd with our daughter in my arms.

I didn't miss the flicker of admiration that flashed through his eyes.

He strode over to me and slipped an arm around my waist, intimate as ever.

"How'd you find the time to come by today?"

A good many of the longtime employees broke into knowing smiles, filling in the newer hires who didn't know me.

"Didn't know, did you? This is the boss's wife. She used to be our vice president."

"Look at them. Don't Rowena and Mr. Butler make a perfect match? And their daughter's so adorable too. Mr. Butler's really got it all, hasn't he?"

I have to say, how does Rowena still look like a young girl after having a baby? Her figure hasn't changed, her skin is still perfect. I'm so jealous.

I answered everyone with a smile, my eyes sweeping the room without giving anything away.

When I felt the hand at my waist loosen, I followed Donald's gaze to a girl in the crowd whose smile looked forced.

Fair skin, lovely face.

An employee beside her pressed a cup of coffee into her hands.

Go on, take it. Rowena bought this to treat all of us.

Oh, right, you've been here less than a year, so you probably don't know Rowena yet. This is the boss's wife. Beautiful, isn't she?

Something pained flickered through the girl's eyes, but she gritted her teeth and nodded anyway.

I turned to look at Donald beside me.

He was still smiling, plainly, but he couldn't hide the worry in his eyes.

Ten years of love between us. How could I not know him?

I looked around at everyone with a smile.

All right, I just stopped by to see everyone since I was in the area.

I'll take my daughter home now and let all of you get back to work.

Donald walked me to the elevator and waved at me with a smile.

Until the elevator doors closed completely and I couldn't see his face anymore.

The elevator dropped to the first floor, the doors opened and shut again, but I didn't step out.

I drew in a deep breath and pressed eighteen again, the floor where Donald's office was.

The instant the elevator doors opened, I saw Donald, his face anxious, pulling a girl into the stairwell.

No one noticed me.

I softened my steps and walked to the stairwell door.

Donald had the woman pinned against the wall, and the man who always had everything under control had nothing in his eyes but panic.

Wanda Fox, don't get the wrong idea. I really had no idea why she came today.

Don't shut me out, okay? I'm really about to lose my mind.

The girl kept her head down. I couldn't make out her expression, only saw her tears falling in fat drops onto the floor.

Donald drew in a deep breath, then, at a loss, gathered the girl into his arms and soothed her in a low voice.

Listening to Donald coaxing her, for some reason, I actually laughed.

But as I laughed, the tears fell before I could stop them.

I knew Donald. He was the kind of man who would never let a misunderstanding sit overnight.

Every time before, the moment I was upset, he never cared whether I was still fuming. All he could think of was soothing me right away.

Rowena, my Rowena, don't you know me?

Please, don't shut me out. If you ignore me, I won't be able to sleep tonight.

Back in the office, I had already pictured this scene, which was why I went down and then came back up.

But even with myself braced for it, the sight before me made my heart sink, and sink again.

I reached up and wiped the tears from my face, held my daughter tighter in my arms, turned, and walked into the elevator.

After I got home and put my daughter to sleep, I curled numbly into the couch on the balcony, watching the sky darken bit by bit.

When Donald got home, I was still holding that same position, unmoving.

Donald walked over and crouched in front of me, tilting his head up to look at me.

What's wrong? You've been home this long and you still haven't changed?

Only then did I come back to myself, and I let my gaze settle on him.

After we looked at each other for a moment, I stood up and headed for the dressing room.

It's been so long since I wore makeup or new clothes. I can't quite bear to give it up.

Can't bear to give up my daughter. Can't bear to give up this family.

Donald didn't catch the deeper meaning in my words.

He chuckled softly, came over to me, and pulled me into his arms.

My Rowena, you look beautiful no matter what.

As he spoke, he lowered his head and went looking for my lips.

The movement dragged me straight back to what I'd seen in the stairwell that afternoon.

I tilted my head a fraction and slipped away from Donald's kiss.

"I'm a little tired today."

Donald froze.

I was the one who'd sent him back to his own room to sleep yesterday, and now I was the one turning him away.

But I no longer had the energy to manage his feelings. I picked up my pajamas and walked into the bathroom.

Once I'd cleaned myself up, I came out to find Donald sitting on the couch, working through the day's business.

I went over to him.

"Tomorrow's Friday. Let's go to your parents' place for dinner in the afternoon."

"Mom and Dad probably miss the baby by now."

Donald was busy and didn't even look up. "It is about time we went by. Wait for me at home tomorrow. I'll knock off early and come pick you both up."

"Rowena, you're the one carrying all of this. I'm lucky to have you."

I didn't answer him. I turned and walked toward the master bedroom.

In the second before I shut the door, I looked at Donald one last time, long and deep.

At the man I'd loved for ten years.

Donald.

The last day.

The next afternoon, before five o'clock, Donald and I had already arrived at his parents' house.

Donald must have called ahead.

The moment we stepped through the door, the smell of cooking was already drifting out from the kitchen.

Mrs. Abbott took her granddaughter from me, beaming.

"You haven't been by in half a month. I've missed Teresa so much."

"If you hadn't come this week, your father and I were about ready to drive over to your place ourselves."

Smiling, I walked into the living room with Donald just as Mr. Butler Sr. poked his head out of the kitchen.

"Sit down, Rowena, the food's almost ready."

"I made your favorite today, the sour-fish stew. You'd better eat plenty of it later."

Looking at the two of them, I nearly let my tears fall.

Donald and I had met at the freshman mixer our first year of college.

He fell for me at first sight and threw himself into chasing me.

The day he confessed, under a basketball court bathed in the setting sun, I bared my scars to another person for the first time.

"I'm an orphan. I have no mother or father. I grew up in a children's home, and I'm only in college because of student loans."

"Don't fall for me. A girl like me, plenty of people would hold it against her."

Poverty and being an orphan were the secret weights on my eighteen-year-old heart.

I'd thought it would scare Donald off, but instead he looked at me with his whole face aching for me, his words even stumbling a little.

"It's you I like. What does any of that have to do with your family?"

"And you don't have to worry about my parents not accepting you. My mom and dad love having a daughter most of all. They're truly, truly good people. Don't put that pressure on yourself."

"Rowena, right now I just need you to answer me one thing. Do you like me or not?"

The eighteen-year-old boy's cheeks were flushed, hopeful and bashful all at once.

As if something had taken hold of me, I nodded.

And Donald hadn't lied to me.

His parents really were the best kind of people.

In all these years, they'd never looked down on me for being an orphan, never used the fact that I had no family of my own to push me around.

They'd treated me like their own daughter, and they'd held their granddaughter in the palms of their hands.

Only now.

This family was about to fall apart.

Mrs. Abbott was the first to notice something off in my expression.

Jiggling her granddaughter in her arms, she spoke up, feigning casualness.

"Are you two still sleeping in separate rooms?"

I hadn't expected that question, and for a moment I just froze where I stood.

Donald hemmed and hawed and didn't answer either.

Our reaction had already answered Mrs. Abbott's question.

She didn't look up at us, still pretending to make small talk.

Sleeping apart like this isn't right. Teresa's just turned one now, and Donald ought to move back in. Young couples shouldn't be apart for so long. The feelings between them fade.

It's hard on Rowena, raising the baby by herself. Donald, if you move back you can help her. A child this age is a handful at night.

Donald, the baby isn't Rowena's alone. You need to be more considerate of her.

What even Mrs. Abbott could see, Donald somehow couldn't.

Or maybe it was simply that he'd never given my situation a second thought.

I said nothing, but something like guilt flickered across his eyes.

All right, I'll do whatever Mom says. I've been swamped with work this year, and I really have neglected Rowena and Teresa.

I'll move back into the master bedroom tonight.

A few months ago, Donald had been pledging his loyalty to another woman, right there on the home-security camera that watched the master bedroom where I slept alone.

Yesterday he'd been standing helpless in the company stairwell over another woman's tears.

Today he was agreeing with his mother to move back into the master bedroom.

I didn't know what was going through his head.

But right now, I didn't want to know anymore.

There's no need.

Donald, let's get a divorce.