Kindergarten Homework: Track Mom's Period

I woke up to find a new photo post. I was still lying in bed and rubbing my lower back to ease the ache from my period. At first, I thought I was just another spectator like everyone else who was scrolling through the comments. That was until I saw the photo.

The man's hand had distinct knuckles and long, clean fingers. The custom Rolex worth several hundred thousand dollars on his wrist only enhanced his refined air.

Once the photo dropped, the comment section exploded.

"That watch must cost several hundred thousand, right? If it were me, I'd be tempted too. I'd strip naked and stand right in front of him."

"Can't blame the OP for being into him. He's rich, handsome, and has such a great physique—you really hit the jackpot, girl."

The original poster replied to that comment with another photo.

"Hahahaha, you guys have no idea. We go three rounds minimum every time we meet. We even made his Rolls-Royce shake.

"We hook up at least three times every time we meet—doubt his Rolls-Royce can even handle the two of us."

The photo showed the Rolls-Royce's interior trash bin stuffed with used condoms, while several pink cartoon stickers decorated the roof. When I saw those stickers, one of my eyelids twitched. Those were my daughter's favorite stickers.

Every single one of our cars had them.

The realization hit me like ice water through my veins. I couldn't breathe. My phone slipped from my trembling hands and clattered to the floor.

My daughter, who was woken by the noise, sat up beside me. When she saw me rubbing my back, the drowsiness vanished from her face. She looked at me with something like distaste, as if she'd realized something.

"Mom, did you get your period?"

When I nodded, excitement spread across her face.

"Great! I can tell Ms. Linsell again. She'll definitely reward me and Dad really well."

Normally, I wouldn't have thought twice about that comment. But now, hearing the word "reward", the truth lurked just beneath the surface, threatening to break through.

I forced my tired, aching body down to the garage and opened the trash bin of the Rolls-Royce we used to pick up our daughter. Sure enough, countless used condoms and women's lace underwear lay inside, proving that everything in that post was real.

My entire body shook, and I could barely stand. I never imagined that John Garpin would cheat on me.

By the time I stumbled back to the bedroom in a daze, John was up, and our daughter, Eloise Garpin, was getting ready for school.

When John saw my pale face and the way I was clutching my lower back, his expression froze for a moment. Then, he looked at me.

"Honey, you probably aren't feeling well, since you're on your period. I'll pick Eloise up today."

He was the picture of a good man, a devoted husband. However, I caught the flash of desire in his eyes. Disappointment washed over me, and I closed my eyes briefly before forcing myself to answer him, fighting to control the tremor in my voice.

"Okay. You pick her up today."