I agreed to look after my best friends child, never suspecting he was my husbands son. Four years ago, my best friend found out she was pregnant. Back then, my life was calm and steadyI was married, had my own place, a sense of security. She, on the other hand, was alone, unsettled, and didnt know who to turn to. One day she called me in tears, saying she didnt know what to do with the baby, that she needed to work and had no one to help. Through sobs, she said,
Youre the only person I trust.
Of course, I said yes. Wed known each other since school, and she was my closest friend.
At first, her little boy would stay with me for just a few hours at a time. Then, it became whole days. I bathed him, fed him, rocked him to sleep in my arms. My husband was always therehe played with the child, carried him around, bought him toys. Nothing seemed strange about it; actually, it felt rather sweet.
My friend often dropped by the house. Sometimes she stayed for lunch. Sometimes Id chat with my husband in the kitchen while she was in the bedroom. I never thought anything was odd, and I trusted them both completely. It never crossed my mind that something might be wrong.
Over time, little things happened that, looking back, were obvious red flags. The boy resembled my husband: the same nose, the same smile. I told myself I was being dramatic. One afternoon, while he was playing, he called me Mummy. My friend chuckled, said it was normal, that children get confused. I laughed too. I brushed it away; I didnt want to think about it any further.
Everything fell apart the day the boy fell ill. He developed a high fever. My friend was out of town and didnt pick up her phone. Worried, I took him to the hospital. My husband came with me. At reception, they asked for the fathers details. Nobody directly questioned him, but my husband volunteered his full name without hesitation.
I saw it instantly. I turned to him and asked,
Why did you say that?
He replied,
I dont know I was just worried.
But his face told a different story.
When we left the hospital, I confronted him in the car park.
Is this your child?
He denied it at first. Said I was out of my mind, asked how I could even think such a thing. I kept pressing, over and over. He fell silent, his head bowed. That silence told me all I needed to know.
That evening, I called my friend, asking her to come over. As soon as she arrived, I asked her directly,
Is your child my husbands?
She broke down sobbing and admitted the truth.
I never meant to hurt you, she said.
I replied,
You let me look after your child, all the while hiding this from me.
She confessed that when shed fallen pregnant, hed begged her not to tell me. Promised hed do the right thingas long as I never knew. And he did just that. The child was in my house, in my care. I paid for everything. I was the one who cradled him to sleep at night.
That night, everything became clearthe reason the boy spent so much time with us, why my husband was so keen to help, why my friend trusted me so completely. I had become the nanny, the careralmost the motherto my husbands child.
Something broke inside me.
That same week, I ended my marriage. I lost my best friend as well. There was no going back.
I know the childs not to blamebut I couldnt bear to see him anymore. Now, I live quietly by myself, in a home free of those who betrayed me.
