I woke up before dawn, the house quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge. Lucas’s first day of school was today, and I wanted every detail perfect. I stood in the kitchen, ironing his new shirt, the same way my mother used to do for me. He was starting first grade, a milestone I’d dreamed of sharing with my husband, Travis. But our marriage hadn’t felt like a partnership in a long time.
Travis had fallen asleep on the couch again, an empty beer can rolling under the coffee table, the glow of ESPN replays flickering across his face. I nudged his shoulder. “Travis, wake up. It’s a big day.”
He mumbled, turned away, and waved me off. Ten years of marriage had taught me to lower my expectations, but Lucas had been excited for weeks, asking every day if Daddy would be there. I promised him he would.
The morning light spilled through the windows as I packed Lucas’s lunch. His little face beamed with excitement. “Daddy’s coming, right?” he asked, tightening the straps of his backpack.
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. I wanted it to be true.
But when it was time to leave, Travis only groaned, “I’ll meet you there later,” and rolled over. My gut clenched, a quiet alarm ringing that I tried to ignore.
At school, Lucas clutched my hand, his backpack bouncing against his small frame. We walked past colorful murals and bulletin boards until we reached his classroom. I crouched down, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “You’re going to do great.”
Just as I turned to leave, Travis arrived. Disheveled, sunglasses on, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. “I’ll say hi real quick,” he said, brushing past me. I walked away but realized I’d left Lucas’s water bottle in the cubby.
When I returned, I heard the teacher’s voice. “Jamie, sweetheart, can you help me with these papers?” Lucas looked up, smiled, and walked right over. My heart skipped. Jamie?
I froze in the doorway, hidden from view. Travis stood there too—calm, unbothered—as if this wasn’t strange. Lucas didn’t hesitate. Didn’t correct her.
I stepped in, forcing a cheerful tone. “Hey, Lucas, just came for one last hug.” I knelt, looking at him carefully. “Sweetheart, why did you answer to another name?”
Travis’s voice cut sharp. “He’s just distracted. You know how he is.”
But my chest tightened. Something was wrong.
After school, Lucas ran out, proudly wearing a paper crown with his name on it. I thought we’d finally have the celebration we’d planned—ice cream, the three of us. But Travis crouched down and said, “We’re heading to Grandma’s tonight. Just a father-son trip. Fishing, hot dogs. It’ll be fun.”
Lucas jumped up and down, excited. It sounded planned, not last minute. Travis ushered him into the car. “I called you a cab,” he said flatly. “Should be here any minute.”
I watched them drive away and made a split-second decision. “Follow that car,” I told the cab driver, sliding a fifty into his hand.
For half an hour, we trailed them until Travis turned into a driveway I’d never seen. The house had a pool, a swing set—too nice to be his mother’s place. I got out, walked carefully along the sidewalk, and peeked around the hedge. Lucas jumped out of the car and ran straight to the pool like he’d been there a hundred times.
Travis strolled casually to the porch. A woman stepped out, barefoot, blonde, holding a glass of something iced. My stomach twisted. He pulled her in and kissed her—slow, familiar.
The world tilted.
It was Jenna. Lucas’s teacher. The one who had called him Jamie.
I wanted to storm across the yard, scream until every neighbor heard, but then I saw Lucas splashing near the pool. My sweet boy, laughing. I couldn’t do it in front of him.
I found another way around, tried to climb the fence, but slipped and landed hard on my back, stinging from poison ivy. The barking dog gave me away. Travis ran out, Jenna trailing behind, Lucas close behind them.
“Mom? What are you doing?” Lucas asked, worried.
Travis glared. “Are you insane? Climbing the fence?”
I stood up, dirt clinging to my jeans, my skin itching and burning. “Insane? Watching you kiss his teacher while using my son in your twisted little secret—that’s insane!”
Lucas tugged on my hand. “Mom, it’s just a game. Daddy told me to pretend I was someone else. He said it would make Jenna happy. I got candy after.”
My heart cracked. “Go inside, baby,” I whispered, kissing his cheek. “Mommy’s got this.”
When he was gone, I turned on Travis, shaking. “You let her call him Jamie? Our son?”
Travis shifted uncomfortably. “Jenna lost her child… Jamie. I just wanted to comfort her. It was harmless.”
“Harmless?” I spat. “You built a fake family with our real son, behind my back. And you—” I pointed at Jenna—“you played along, pretending my child was yours.”
Tears filled Jenna’s eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
I stood taller despite the dirt, despite the sting of poison ivy. “You think I look pathetic now? You haven’t seen anything yet.”
That night, I went to Travis’s mother, Margaret. She adored Lucas. I laid everything out—how Travis lied, how he used Lucas to comfort another woman. When I told her about the affair, she was horrified.
“I’m not taking Lucas away from you,” I said. “You’ll see him. But I’m done. I’m taking the house, child support, and my freedom. You can have your grandson. But Travis has lost his wife.”
I didn’t ruin Jenna’s life. She’d already lost more than I could ever take. But Travis? I packed his clothes that night, each folded shirt and tossed belt a reminder that his double life was over.
As he stood in the doorway, watching his world collapse, I finally felt strong again.
Because while he was busy building lies, I was reclaiming the only truth that mattered—Lucas and I would never be part of Travis’s secret family again.
And I would make damn sure no one ever called my son by another name.
