It was supposed to be a perfect day — Lola’s fifth birthday.
I’d spent weeks planning everything. From the rainbow unicorn cake to the DIY piñata I’d worked on every night after she fell asleep, the details were perfect. I wanted her to remember this birthday forever — her first “big girl” party, as she called it.
A week before the big day, my mother-in-law, Nancy, pulled me aside after dinner. She looked unusually… nice. Too nice.
“You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart,” she said, resting her hand on mine like she cared. “Peter and I thought you deserved a little pampering. We booked you a spa day! Just relax — we’ll set everything up, and you’ll be back in time for the party.”
I blinked. “Really?”
Even Peter chimed in, rubbing my shoulders. “Come on, babe. You’ve been running yourself into the ground. Let them do this. Lola will be thrilled when she sees you glowing and rested.”
I hesitated. I’d never been good at letting go. But I was tired — really tired. So, against my gut instinct, I gave in.
“Just make sure the unicorn horns go on the cupcakes before the frosting dries,” I muttered as Nancy walked me to the door on the morning of the party.
She only smiled. “We’ve got it all under control, dear.”
The spa was beautiful — the kind of place I never went to. They had booked me for the full works: massage, facial, mani-pedi, even a scalp treatment. For the first hour, I allowed myself to relax. But after two hours, I felt restless.
Something was off.
Maybe it was the way Nancy had smiled. Or how Peter avoided eye contact that morning. Or maybe it was just the mother in me — always needing to be near Lola on her big day.
So I left early.
I decided to stop at the party store and grab the number five candle I’d forgotten. That’s when I pulled into the driveway… and felt my stomach drop.
The house was empty.
No music. No streamers. No balloons.
I rushed inside — nothing. No sign of a party. No cake, no kids, not even wrapping paper scraps.
Panic set in. I grabbed my phone. No missed calls. No texts. Just silence.
As I stepped outside, confused and half-dizzy, my neighbor, Mrs. Connors, waved at me from across the street.
“They already left for the party at that little café downtown,” she called. “Looked like quite the crowd!”
Café?
We never planned a party at a café.
I demanded the address and drove like a madwoman, heart pounding in my chest. My head filled with static — something was wrong.
I floored it across town. And when I walked into the café, my blood went ice cold.
Pink balloons, glittering banners, and a two-tiered cake with sugar roses. There were kids, lots of them, and some adults that I didn’t know. A clown was juggling in the corner.
I spotted Lola in a pink dress I hadn’t picked, standing at the center of the crowd, eyes wide and confused.
Beside her stood Peter, smiling like this was the best day of his life.
And clinging to his arm, literally leaning into him, nails perfectly polished, lips too red for a kids’ party, was a woman I had never seen before.
Just as I stepped in, they lit the candles.
Everyone sang for Lola. She beamed, although she did look overwhelmed.
Peter leaned in and kissed her cheek. Then the woman did too.
I stopped walking.
The room kept moving around me, balloons swaying, forks clinking, the clown mid-juggle, but everything inside me turned to stone.
Lola’s face was lit by flickering candles. Five years old. Beautiful. Beaming. She didn’t know what was going on around her.
She didn’t know why her father was holding some other woman and why her mother wasn’t at her birthday party.
My legs carried me forward before I could stop them. My hands were shaking, but my voice?
Steady.
“What the hell is going on?”
It was as though every sound in the room had vanished. The juggler missed a pin. A child started to cry somewhere near the cake.
Peter froze like I’d slapped him. His smile crumbled, his hand still hovering above Lola’s back.
Nancy turned, her expression stiff. Her lips parted, then closed again like she’d thought better of lying. Or maybe she just couldn’t figure out which lie would hurt less.
“Kelsey,” Peter said, clearing his throat. “You were supposed to be at the spa.”
“I left early,” I said.
A vein in his temple twitched.
Nancy stepped toward me, her voice syrupy and low, like she was calming a wild animal.
“Kelsey, this isn’t what you think. You weren’t supposed to be here. We planned this to go smoothly.”
“Smoothly? Without me?” I asked. “Without her mother?”
That’s when she did it. The woman. The one I didn’t know existed. She smiled at me like this was all normal. Like I was the dramatic one for showing up at my own daughter’s birthday.
Peter rested a hand on her back. Possessive. Casual. Wrong.
“This is Madeline,” he said, his voice utterly calm. “We’ve… been together for a while, Kelsey. She thought it would be nice to plan something special for Lola. A new tradition.”
My brain struggled to absorb the words. I didn’t understand why my husband was acting like it was perfectly normal to be with another woman at our child’s birthday party.
“A new what?”
“A second birthday,” Nancy offered like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “So Lola can start bonding with her new mom.”
My vision darkened around the edges.
I took a step forward.
“She’s not a mother, especially not to my child,” I said, my voice low and trembling. “She’s just your affair, Peter.”
Peter had the audacity to shrug.
“She’s part of our lives now, Kelsey. You might as well start accepting it.”
I wanted to smash the cake into his face.
I looked around at the decorations I hadn’t chosen and the guests I hadn’t invited. Then, I looked at this woman wearing pink like she belonged and how Peter stood so comfortably beside her.
How long had this been going on? I wondered.
And then, near the buffet, was Phil. Holding a paper cup of lemonade, watching like a man at a football game.
The cruelty of it all made my stomach turn.
Then, Lola looked up.
My child had been so caught up with her friends singing to her that she hadn’t seen me at first. Now, our eyes met. Her little brows furrowed, and she ran.
“Mama!” she shouted. “You came!”
She barreled into my legs, arms wrapping tight.
“Grandma said that you forgot about me.”
My heart shattered like glass in my chest.
I dropped to my knees, pulling her close.
“Don’t you ever believe that,” I whispered. “You are my entire heart, baby girl. I’d never forget about you, Lola. I love you more than anything.”
“I missed you,” she said against my neck.
I looked up.
Peter, now pale and blinking like he couldn’t believe the scene unraveling. Madeline, whose smug smile had vanished, dropped her arm from Peter’s.
I looked at Nancy, her hands limp by her sides.
There were no more words left.
“I’ll take her now,” I said.
“It’s not a big deal,” Phil muttered. “You should’ve just stayed at the spa, like you were told. It’s not a surprise that Lola doesn’t listen. You don’t.”
“You tried to erase me. At my own daughter’s birthday. You let your son parade around some woman who helped ruin our family. The fact that you and Nancy see nothing wrong with this behavior makes me sick. And you call this not a big deal?”
I turned toward the door, Lola’s small fingers tucked into mine.
“Come, sweet girl. Let’s have your party at home.”
“Just you and me, Mama?”
“Just you and me,” I echoed.
I walked out with Lola, neither of us looking back.
We got home just as the sun began dipping behind the trees.
Lola pressed herself to me as I pulled out the cake I’d made the night before. It was chocolate with layers of real strawberries throughout. Her favorite.
She grinned when she saw it, her cheeks still flushed from the party confusion and the whirlwind of emotion.
“I like this cake more, Mama,” she said as I placed it on the table. “It smells like our kitchen.”
I lit five candles again. This time, there was no crowd. No cameras. Just us. She closed her eyes tightly before blowing them out.
“Did you make a wish?” I asked, brushing a crumb from her lip.
“I wished that you’d always be here,” she nodded.
“That’s a promise, Lola,” I said. “No matter what.”
She smiled and leaned her head against my arm. Within minutes, she was asleep in my lap, still wearing the too-fancy dress someone else had picked for her.
I carried her to bed and kissed her forehead, smoothing the curls away from her eyes. She was mine. And no amount of party decorations or strangers could change that.
Later, I wrapped a slice of cake in foil and stepped next door. Rachel opened her door wearing sweats and a topknot, her eyes wide.
“Kelsey?” she whispered. “Is everything okay?”
“This is for you,” I said, handing her the cake.
“You left so fast earlier. I figured something was wrong,” she said as she took the package carefully.
“Peter threw Lola a surprise party. Brought his girlfriend, too. His parents were all in on it. They sent me to a spa so I wouldn’t be in the way. Happy Birthday, Lola!” I said sarcastically.
“You’re kidding,” Rachel’s mouth fell open.
“I wish I was,” I said quietly. “I had no idea… about any of it.”
“What the actual hell, Kelsey?” she muttered, the weight of my words sinking in.
“Right?!” I half-laughed.
We stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of it settling.
“I’m divorcing him,” I said quietly. “There’s more cake if you want…”
“And I’ve got plenty of wine if you want it,” she called out as I walked away.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I smiled.
