My Son's Parent Group Outed the Affair

The Uber came to a stop outside Theodore Baird's elementary school.

I didn't get out of the car immediately. Instead, I watched through the car window and stared intently at the family of three getting out of the car ahead of me.

The first one to get out was my husband, Joseph Baird. He wore a light gray fitted overcoat, a black suit jacket, and a white shirt underneath. I was the one who had pressed and ironed everything myself earlier today.

The second one to step out of the car was my seven-year-old son, Theodore. We all called him "Teddy" for short. He was wearing the scarf that I had knitted for him for Christmas.

"Mommy! I'll open the door for you!" he exclaimed excitedly while hopping over to the front passenger seat.

At that point, all the blood had frozen in my body.

Who was he calling "Mommy"? I was his mommy, not some other woman!

I gritted my teeth and glared intently at the door of the front passenger seat.

The door soon opened, and the first thing I saw was the woman's exquisitely manicured nails. Her hands were very smooth and delicate, and it was clear that she'd never done a lick of housework in her life.

Her hands were nothing like mine, covered in wrinkles and callouses after being soaked in cold water and disinfectant all year-round.

Then, I finally saw her face. She had delicate features and didn't strike me as particularly beautiful, but she was youthful and elegant.

"Let's go, honey," she said to Joseph with a smile.

My mind blanked as her words pierced into my eardrums. "Honey"? Who did she think she was calling that?

I glared at Joseph, trying to see how he'd react, even if it was just a hint of guilt. However, I saw nothing of the sort. He just naturally slid Teddy's hand into hers and said, "Let's go, Mrs. Baird."

Did he just call her… "Mrs. Baird"?

His words kept repeating in my head. The heater was switched on in the Uber, but it felt like it was winter in my chest.

Over the past seven years, I'd heard everyone calling me "Mrs. Baird", and every time, they were all referring to me, Misty Rutherford. But today, I heard my own husband calling another woman that.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down.

I told myself that I couldn't rush in and throw a hissy fit. At the very least, I didn't have enough evidence to accuse him of cheating on me today, so I couldn't afford to put him on his guard just yet.

I pulled out my phone camera and began to record them.

Teddy's homeroom teacher soon came out to welcome them. I'd seen her photo in the parent-teacher group chat. She looked like a very upright middle-aged woman.

I had also heard that she had been betrayed in her relationship when she was younger, and so, she absolutely refused to tolerate any homewreckers who broke up happy families.

She approached Joseph, Teddy, and the woman and smiled at them warmly.

"You seem to have gotten much prettier over the holidays, Mrs. Baird! The last time I saw you was Christmastime, wasn't it? It's so nice to see you again today for the community night. You're all such a happy family."

The last time?

My hand trembled when I picked up on that very important keyword.

Teddy had only just started school last year. And Joseph had been the one handling everything by himself, from enrollment to class registration, and he never let me interfere in those matters even once.

He told me, "You were the one who took care of Teddy all the time when he was younger. So, now that he's getting older, it's time for me to take responsibility for him as his dad."

That was why Joseph oversaw every sports meet, parent-teacher meeting, study tour, and more. He even took over everything in the parent-teacher group chats involving Teddy, and I could only join those groups in secret.

He told me he just wanted to foster a tighter-knit father-son relationship with Teddy and lighten my burden. However, he never said that it was also so that another woman would be able to replace me as Teddy's mother at school.

I took a deep breath and felt the air slicing into my lungs like razor blades.

The streetlight shone on the woman, and a tiny glint reflected off of her, making me narrow my eyes at it.