One ordinary morning, I stepped outside and saw a “Just Had a Baby” sticker on my boyfriend Eric’s car. We’d been together for two years — no baby, no secrets, or so I thought. That moment shattered everything.
Eric and I met at a concert and hit it off instantly. We did long-distance — he’d visit every week, but I never went to his place. He claimed it was too small, shared with a roommate. I believed him.
We had plans: moving in together, adopting a dog, building a life. Then one day, my best friend Leslie called, congratulating me on the baby. I was confused — until she told me she saw the sticker.
Eric claimed it was a prank from a friend celebrating their own baby. I wanted to believe him. But doubt had taken root.
Later, I found his company’s social media page and stumbled across a woman’s comment: “So proud of my Eric.” Her profile showed Eric with her, their son, and a newborn. He was married. With a family.
Crushed, I found a post from his wife, Angela, looking for a nanny. I applied.
At the interview, I told Angela the truth. When Eric came home and saw me, he panicked. He begged, lied, and deflected — but I showed her proof.
Angela was devastated. I left, heartbroken but resolute. I’d been a secret. But now, the lie was exposed — and I was finally free.
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