When my boyfriend dumped me for the one person I trusted most—my own mother—I thought the pain would crush me into pieces. He believed he could betray me and then just walk away, free of consequences. But what he didn’t know was that I had no intention of letting him leave without facing what he had done.
People say no relationship is perfect. For a long time, I believed that about Travis and me. Sure, we argued sometimes. He could be distant, dismissive, and had this annoying habit of twisting everything so it was always about him. But in my heart, I thought we had love. I thought we were real.
Travis had his sweet moments. He used to bring me coffee in bed, just the way I liked it—with a splash of oat milk and two sugars. He’d leave little sticky notes on the fridge saying things like “You got this” or “Smile, today’s yours.” And at night, sometimes he’d lie beside me, play a song on his phone, and whisper, “This one reminds me of you.”
I told myself that love wasn’t about perfection—it was about holding on through the imperfections. And so, I held on.
We had been living together for almost a year. I thought we were building a future, piece by piece. My mother, Linda, visited often. She said she just wanted to “help.”
She’d bring homemade chicken soup, fold our laundry when I hadn’t gotten to it yet, and offer endless advice I never asked for—like how to decorate the living room or how to cook rice without it sticking.
I appreciated it, at least in the beginning. I even thought I was lucky to have a mom who cared enough to show up so often.
But everything changed on that one terrible afternoon.
I left work early that day. My head was pounding, and all I wanted was silence, maybe a nap before making dinner. But the second I opened the door, I heard music drifting from the living room. And voices—low, familiar voices.
At first, I thought maybe Travis was just watching TV. But when I walked in, my world shattered into sharp pieces.
Travis was kissing my mother. His hands were on her waist. She was smiling up at him.
My chest felt like it had been split open. “What the hell is going on?!” I screamed, my voice breaking. My whole body shook.
Travis didn’t look guilty. He looked annoyed, as if I was interrupting something important. “Rachel, I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t let go of her. He just stood there like this betrayal was nothing.
Linda crossed her arms and tilted her head, treating me like a child throwing a tantrum. “You always make everything a crisis,” she said coldly. “We were going to tell you.”
I couldn’t believe it. My own mother. “You were going to what? Sit me down like it’s some kind of family meeting and say, ‘Surprise, we’re a couple now’? You’re my mother!”
I stepped closer, my voice shaking. “How could you do this to me?”
But Linda didn’t flinch. Her voice was sharp, cruel. “Travis deserves someone who listens to him. Someone who isn’t constantly tired or nagging. Maybe if you had been more of a woman, this wouldn’t have happened.”
The words hit me like knives.
Travis added his poison. “You haven’t exactly been easy to live with, Rachel. You shut down every time we tried to talk. Linda gets me.”
I stared at him like he was a stranger. I grabbed his coat from the chair and hurled it at him. “Get out. Both of you.”
And just like that, they left. No apology. No hesitation. They walked past me like I was nothing.
I didn’t cry that night. I couldn’t. I just stood frozen, in the silence of the home that suddenly felt like a stranger’s place.
But two days later, the nausea started. At first, I blamed the stress, the heartbreak, the betrayal. My stomach had been in knots since that afternoon. But when I threw up for the third time in a single morning, a cold thought struck me.
I drove to the pharmacy in silence, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I bought two pregnancy tests and rushed home. Both showed two pink lines.
I stared at them in disbelief. I went back and bought four more. Sitting on the cold bathroom floor, surrounded by six tests, I couldn’t deny it anymore.
I was pregnant. With Travis’s child.
The same man who kissed my mother. The same man who abandoned me like I was nothing.
It took me three days to call him. My hands were heavy when I finally pressed his name. My voice was small, but steady. “I’m pregnant.”
Silence. Then, finally, his voice: “Are you sure?”
“Six tests,” I replied. “They all say the same thing.”
That evening, he showed up with a paper bag. His face looked tired. “I brought some stuff—crackers, ginger tea. I looked it up. It’s supposed to help.”
I folded my arms. “You think snacks fix betrayal?”
He sighed. “I’m trying to be involved, Rachel. You always say I don’t show up. Well, I’m here now.”
“You’re here because you got caught,” I snapped.
But he kept showing up over the next week, pretending we were still together. He talked about baby names—“What about Ella for a girl, Jacob for a boy?”—and even about baby clothes and cribs.
I didn’t understand why he was acting this way. Maybe guilt. Maybe fear. But I let him talk, because I needed time.
Then came the phone call that broke me all over again.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Linda’s voice chimed, fake sweet but sharp underneath. “Just wanted to let you know—I’m pregnant too.”
I froze, unable to speak.
“You heard me,” she continued smugly. “And yes, I planned it. I knew you’d try to pull him back with your little surprise. So I made sure he’d stay with me.”
I ended the call without another word. My whole body felt like ice.
That night, Travis came again. He sat down and whispered, “Did she tell you?”
“Did you think she wouldn’t?” I asked, my voice flat.
He rubbed his hands together. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t sign up for two kids. I can’t even manage my own life.”
I glared at him. “Then maybe you should have thought about that before sleeping with two women in the same family.”
His voice turned sharp. “I’m just saying… maybe this doesn’t have to be so complicated. You have options.”
My blood ran cold. “You think I should get rid of my baby? To make this easier for you?”
“I’m just saying it might be for the best,” he muttered. “You’re not in a good place. You’re overwhelmed.”
I yanked the door open. “Get out. Now. And if you ever tell me what to do with my body again, I swear to God—”
He slammed the door so hard the walls shook. I collapsed to the floor, sobbing harder than I ever had. I cried for the man I lost, the mother who betrayed me, and the baby I hadn’t planned but already loved.
But when the sun came up, I wasn’t the same girl anymore. Something inside me had hardened. I wasn’t going to beg Travis. I wasn’t going to ask Linda why. I was going to raise my baby alone.
I even wrote Linda a letter, ready to drop it at her house. But when I got there, I found Travis with a suitcase.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He flinched, then muttered, “Just getting some stuff.”
I opened the suitcase. On top were two plane tickets. “Plane tickets? You’re running away.”
He rubbed his face. “Linda’s been driving me insane since she found out. She won’t stop talking about the baby, the names, the nursery. I feel trapped.”
“So your solution is to abandon her too?” I snapped.
He lowered his head. “I was going to send a message once I got out.”
My stomach twisted with rage. “You cheated. You lied. You destroyed lives. And now you’re blaming us?”
His voice rose. “You both made it messy. I’m tired of being the bad guy.”
“You ARE the bad guy,” I said coldly. “You made this mess.”
I ripped the tickets in half and called Linda right there. “Your perfect man is standing here with a suitcase and a ticket out of your life. Thought you should know.” Then I hung up.
Travis’s face twisted. “What the hell was that?”
“Consequences,” I told him. “You’ll hear from my lawyer. You’re paying for both children. Whether you like it or not.”
I walked out, leaving the torn-up letter behind.
When the sunlight hit my face, I felt stronger. I didn’t know what kind of mother I’d be. I didn’t have all the answers. But I knew one thing—never again would I let anyone make me feel small or unworthy.
Linda and Travis had taken so much from me. But in losing them, I found something better. I had found myself.