My husband gave another woman my birthday gift.
Rachel Quinn posted the robot he and my son built for her, smiling like it belonged to her life.
When I liked the post, he exploded, accusing me of starting drama.
That was the moment the truth slammed into me: he defended her more fiercely than he ever defended me.
Now the betrayal is undeniableand so is the ending of our marriage.
On my birthday, my husbands childhood friend, Rachel Quinn, posted pictures on social media of the brand-new robot my husband and son had built for her.
I casually gave it a thumbs-up. Not long after, my husband called to scold me:
We gave you one too, didnt we? And Max even made you a cake himself. What else could you possibly want?
But Rachels robot was obviously the latest model. Even the cake my son made for her was bigger than mine.
When my husband and son got home, the clock had just struck midnight.
The untouched cake still sat on the table. The card read: Happy Birthday, Mom!
Why didnt you eat the cake? Were you waiting for us to come home and celebrate?
My husband forced a smile as he and Max lit the candles and sang me a birthday song.
But instead of feeling touched, I felt suffocated. I waved them off. Im not hungry. You two eat.
My husbands expression immediately darkened.
I know youre upset about Rachel. But cant you understand her situation? She doesnt have any family here. She had a tough day at work today, so Max and I just went to cheer her up. Thats all. Stop overthinking it.
Max chimed in, Yeah, Mom. Rachels all alone. Cant you be a little more understanding?
Looking at the father and son tag-teaming me, my heart felt colder than an ice cavern.
It was my birthday, yet they left me to comfort someone else.
Every time I got angry about how they prioritized Rachel over me, theyd trot out this same excuse. It always made me feel like I was the unreasonable one, like I was the villain.
And every time, Id end up crying alone late at night. But the next day, all it took was a kind word, or a small gift, and Id forgive them. Id go right back to being the mom and wife they took for granted.
This time, though, I was tired of playing along.
Youre right, I said calmly. You should go spend time with her. Ill celebrate with my friends instead.
I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.
The two of them were stunned, frozen in place, clearly not expecting this response.
When my husband finally realized I was serious, he quickly rushed over to grab my arm.
Youre forty years old. Can you stop acting like a child? Im busy with work, and Max is swamped with school. We still made time to celebrate with you, but its never enough, is it? Were exhausted, you know?
Exhausted?
I stared at them coldly. They werent too tired to build Rachel a cutting-edge robot. They werent too tired to bake her a cake the size of a serving platter.
But for me? They handed me an outdated model and a cake made from scraps, and that was somehow too much effort.
Youre overthinking it, I said, voice icy. Im not upset. I just want to spend my birthday with my friends for a change. I havent done that in years.
Mom! Enough with the drama! Max suddenly snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. The cake tipped over, and the candles nearly set the tablecloth on fire.
Lately, Max had been under a lot of pressure at school, and his temper was always on edge. Every time he lashed out, Id patiently comfort him, no matter how much it hurt.
But this time, I stayed silent.
Seeing my lack of reaction, his anger flared even more. He started punching the furniture, kicking over chairs.
What do you want from us? Why cant you just leave me and Dad alone? Youve been emotionally manipulating us for years. Is it not enough? Do you want to drive us insane before youre satisfied?