When Megan visited her husband’s office with his favorite lunch to surprise him, she learned a startling secret from his receptionist. Megan found out that her husband had been telling everyone she’s merely his kid’s nanny, allowing him to act freely at work.
Recently, I discovered that my husband has been telling everyone that I am merely his child’s nanny, one he keeps out of pity.
What?
It was an ordinary day, and I decided to surprise my husband with lunch from his favorite fast food place. We had both been working long hours lately and had little time to connect.
This was my first visit to Ben’s new office, and I was excited about surprising him.
“Hi, honey,” he said, answering his phone as I parked the car. “I’m just on a call; I’ll be done soon.”
I didn’t really want to talk to him; I just wanted to make sure he was there.
I got out of the car, grabbed the takeout bag, feeling a thrill. When Ben and I were first married, we often surprised each other at work or met up spontaneously.
It was the spark that kept our marriage alive.
Ben’s office was sleek and modern. I walked in, and a friendly receptionist greeted me with a bright smile.
“Good afternoon!” she said. “You’re Mr. Link’s nanny, right? Is something wrong with the kids? Should I buzz him, or do you want to go straight up?”
I nearly dropped the bag of food.
“Excuse me?” I asked, my heart racing.
The receptionist looked puzzled, as if unsure if she’d misspoken or if I hadn’t heard her right.
“Aren’t you Mr. Link’s nanny?” she repeated, her smile fading.
I took a deep breath, trying to process her words.
“No, I’m not the nanny,” I said. “I’m his wife, Mrs. Megan Link.”
Her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly looked around to ensure no one else was listening.
“Oh my God,” she said. “I am so sorry! I had no idea! Please, come with me.”
I couldn’t understand her reaction. She led me to a quiet corner of the lobby with two leather armchairs and a couch.
“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed.
“What?” I asked, suddenly feeling foolish. It was clear something was wrong.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Sierra,” she said. “But listen! Mrs. Link, it’s unbelievable! Mr. Link told us he’s a single father. That he hired a nanny for his kids so they wouldn’t be alone after school. He said you’ve been around since the first one, and now he can’t fire you out of pity.”
“What?” I repeated, louder than I intended. “How do you know he’s talking about me and not our real nanny? Because we do have one.”
“He showed me a photo and said to buzz his office if you showed up,” Sierra said.
I felt a wave of nausea.
“He really said that? Why would he do such a thing?” I asked aloud.
Sierra looked uneasy. She shifted her weight, contemplating her next words.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she said slowly, “but Mr. Link is very popular with the women here. Thanks to his story, everyone thinks he’s single. I’ve heard he’s been seeing someone in sales. They believe he’s a struggling single dad who works long hours to provide for his kids.”
I could hardly breathe. It felt like a nightmare.
“And you know for sure my husband is seeing someone else?” I asked, my voice trembling.
She nodded.
“Yes, but please don’t tell him I told you. The woman from sales likes to talk. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard her mention it.”
I stood, stunned. My husband had been living a double life, pretending to be a single father and cheating on me with his colleagues. The betrayal hit hard, but then anger surged.
I needed revenge. I needed to hurt my husband as much as he hurt me.
“Thank you for telling me, Sierra,” I said. “I promise he won’t know this came from you.”
The receptionist leaned in.
“There’s a presentation tomorrow,” she said. “It’s for management, and Mr. Link is presenting. If you want to make a statement, that’s the best time.”
She smiled encouragingly. Sierra was nudging me toward my revenge, urging me to tell my side.
How many times had my husband deceived me?
“Here,” I said, handing her the bag. “It’s just lunch for my husband. Enjoy it. And thank you, I know what to do.”
The next morning, Ben prepared for work without mentioning the presentation.
“What would you like for breakfast?” I asked, making coffee.
“Nothing, Megan,” he said. “I’ll grab something on the way. I don’t want to be late.”
“Suit yourself,” I said. “I’m going to wake the kids.”
Ben left shortly after, not even saying goodbye.
After getting the kids ready and feeding them cereal, I dressed in a professional and confident outfit.
I strapped the kids into the car.
“Why are we going to Dad’s office instead of school?” my son asked.
“Because Dad has a big presentation today, and surprising him will bring good luck. Don’t you think?” I said.
They cheered in the backseat. They didn’t know the whole story but understood enough.
We arrived in time.
Sierra smiled and nodded from her desk.
“Go ahead, ma’am,” she said.
I saw my husband through the glass walls of the conference room, confidently addressing his colleagues. I waited until he was fully engaged before entering with the kids.
“Hi, honey,” I said, walking in.
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to us.
My husband’s face went pale.
“Good morning,” I said clearly. “I’m Mr. Link’s nanny, and I’ve been told to come here only if something happens to his children.”
The silence was deafening. Even the kids sensed something was wrong.
“So, Mr. Link,” I continued. “Something has happened! Your children and their mother have discovered that their father is a liar and a scoundrel.”
I saw Sierra at the doorway. I nodded to her, and she understood to take the kids away.
“Come on,” she said cheerfully to them. “I’ve got donuts waiting!”
I turned back to the room.
“Ben Link is a liar and a cheater. I am his wife, not his nanny. He is not a sad single father. He is a pathetic man who pretends to be more than he is. Consider this when you continue business with him.”
“Megan, wait,” Ben said.
“Nope,” I replied. “I want a divorce. You can use your lawyer, or I’ll use mine. I’m taking the kids to my parents. I’m done with you.”
With that, I found Sierra and my kids, ready to leave Ben and his lies behind.
What would you have done?
