Teaching My Son to Forget His Dad

As soon as our son, Ryan Goodwin's, words fell, my husband, Rowan Goodwin, and I froze at the same time.

In the 28 days following the realization that Rowan was emotionally checked out of our family, whenever he walked out on Ryan and me for Megan, I had Ryan call him Mr. Goodwin as a reminder to both of us not to waste our tears on someone who wasn't worth it.

Ryan, however, didn't see things that way. He was only seven years old, an age when a boy was most dependent on his father. Every time I asked him to call Rowan that, he would hesitate for a long time before murmuring, "Mr. Goodwin."

Yet, now, he had said it on his own. It was so smooth and natural, as if he had rehearsed those two words countless times in his heart.

Noticing that we were both stunned, Ryan took my hand and told Rowan, "Mr. Goodwin, you should go handle your business."

Then, he looked up at me. "Let's go, Mommy. We're going to miss our appointment." He pulled me along, walking step by step toward the photo studio.

Rowan was the one who suggested the family photo to make up for missing Ryan's parent-teacher meeting, and Ryan had been looking forward to it for half a month.

I followed him stiffly. My chest felt so tight and heavy, like a boulder was crushing it, and I just wanted to cry.

Rowan's affair came to light by pure chance. He had gone to celebrate Megan Dolton's son, Nelson Herrera's, birthday, and when he came home, he forgot the receipt in his pocket—a family ticket for three to Starlight Studios.

On Ryan's sixth birthday, he had made a wish for all of us to go to Starlight Studios to see his favorite Minions. Rowan had called it childish and rejected the idea without a second thought. Yet, only a few days later, he went there with Megan's son.

I found Megan's post on Rowan's phone. "The most magical place must be visited with the best daddy." The photo attached was a picture of Rowan and Megan holding the child between them.

Megan was his first love, who was now divorced and had a child of her own. That night, Rowan and I had the worst fight we had ever had. I insisted on taking Ryan and getting a divorce.

Rowan accused me of being unreasonable and asked how I could bear to let our child grow up without a father. Then, he swore to God that he only pitied Megan.

Looking at Ryan's face, which had turned visibly pale with fright, I bit my lip so hard I nearly drew blood. I knew that if I forced Ryan to leave with me right then, he would never be able to forget Rowan.

But I knew even better that once a cheater, always a cheater. I refused to let Ryan suffer endless grievances just because of Rowan's so-called sympathy. Consequently, I chose a different approach—I tricked Rowan into signing the divorce agreement.