A Receipt Revealed His Double Life
During the Thanksgiving holiday week, my husband, Caleb Whitman, keeps working overtime. I feel sorry for how hard he's working, so I take over all the household chores.
While doing the laundry, I pull a food delivery receipt from the pocket of his coat.
Everything on the order appears to be intended for a pregnant woman. It has bone broth, baked salmon, and fresh seasonal vegetables. It's obvious that everything was chosen with care.
There's even a note that says, "For an expectant mother. Keep it low in oil and salt. Make sure the utensils are sterilized."
The delivery was sent to a luxury apartment above Caleb's office building.
I crumple the receipt, let out a cold laugh, and deliberately call him during lunch.
"So, when's the baby shower for your kid? Don't forget to send me an invite."