My Husband Yelled When He Found a Pregnancy Test in the Trash, but I Stayed Silent Knowing It Wasn’t Mine
I was washing dishes when I heard my husband, Daniel, yell from the bathroom. His voice was sharp, filled with anger and something else—panic.
“What the hell is this?”
I turned to see him standing in the doorway, holding a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test. My heart skipped a beat, but not for the reason he thought.
“Are you going to say something?” he demanded, his face red.
I dried my hands slowly, my mind racing. “It’s not mine,” I said calmly.
His anger flickered into confusion. “Then whose is it?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.
We lived alone. There was no sister, no friend who could’ve left it behind. But there was one person who had been here recently—Emily, our housekeeper. She came twice a week, and I had noticed lately that she’d been quieter than usual.
Daniel ran a hand through his hair. “If it’s not yours, then—” His voice trailed off, realization creeping into his expression.
I watched him closely. His reaction would tell me everything.
“Did you cheat on me?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re asking?”
He swallowed hard, and that’s when I knew. The truth was buried somewhere in his silence.
My heart pounded as I walked past him toward our bedroom. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my recent texts. Sure enough, there was one from Emily two days ago: Can we talk? It’s important.
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, I wished I had.
Turning back to Daniel, I saw guilt written all over his face. “You should be the one explaining right now,” I said, my voice trembling.
He exhaled sharply. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I laughed bitterly. “You’re lying. I see it all over you.”
The room was suffocating with tension. He stared at the test in his hand, his knuckles white.
“Did you get her pregnant?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Silence. A long, damning silence.
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Instead, I walked past him, grabbing my coat.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice desperate.
“To find out the truth,” I said.
As I walked out, my phone buzzed. It was Emily.
I took a deep breath and answered.
“Hello?”
A shaky voice came through the line. “Mrs. Carter… I’m so sorry.”
And just like that, I had my answer.
