Paige loves her career, even if it means being away from home a lot. However, upon returning from a business trip, she overhears a mysterious conversation between her husband and their four-year-old son. She doesn’t yet know that the fabric of her marriage is about to unravel.
When I think about the foundations of my life, I always highlight three: my husband Victor, my son Mason, and my career. Despite the storms Victor and I have weathered together, including four heartbreaking miscarriages, we emerged stronger than before.
Or so I thought.
Victor and I were a strong and supportive couple — we knew what worked for us and what didn’t. Especially when it came to healing from the miscarriages we had experienced.
‘It’s okay, Paige,’ Victor constantly reminded me. ‘We’ll get pregnant when the time is right. If not, there are other options.’
I would always smile at him, wondering when his words would come true.
But then the pregnancy test came back positive. And three months later, our baby was still thriving in my womb.
When Mason came into our lives, it felt like our broken dreams had finally come together. Mason became the one thing we focused on unconditionally. When our son needed us, we dropped everything.
‘Mason is a happy child,’ Victor said once as Mason ran around our yard. ‘He is incredibly loved.’
And he was loved. Victor and I were proud to put our son’s care above all else.
As I held the responsible position of executive director of a clothing brand, travelling was an integral part of my life. I was involved in every stage of our product development, right up to the moment the clothes arrived in stores.
This often meant leaving Victor and Mason to fend for themselves. But I didn’t mind — Victor was the perfect father. He even changed his work schedule so he could work from home more often than from the office. That way, he could be there for Mason.
‘I don’t want a nanny or babysitter looking after our son,’ Victor said one day while cooking dinner for us.
‘If you can manage during the day, I’ll take the evening shifts,’ I suggested as a compromise.
I felt bad that Victor had to be on the defensive during the day, but we had no other choice.
Recently, when Mason turned four and became a curious boy, I realised that preschool was on the horizon. So, in an effort to be more present and spend more time with him as a toddler, I vowed to limit my trips to work.
But little did anyone know that it was during my absence that the fabric of our family began to unravel.
I was away for about three days, stuck in meetings, and all I wanted was to go home and hug Mason, breathing in the scent of baby fabric softener from his clothes.
The day that changed everything was like any other. I took a taxi from the airport and eagerly awaited seeing my husband and son.
When I entered the house, it was unusually quiet, with only the sound of shuffling footsteps upstairs.
Victor’s voice was quiet but insistent, the kind Mason associated with bad behaviour and bedtime.
‘Buddy, you have to promise me one thing, okay?’ Victor said.
‘Okay,’ Mason murmured innocently. ‘What is it?’
‘You have to promise me you won’t tell Mum what you saw.’
‘But I don’t like secrets,’ Mason said. ‘Why can’t I tell Mum?’
Victor sighed deeply — the sound carried through the house like air.
‘It’s not a secret, Mason,’ he said. ‘But if we tell Mum, she’ll be sad. Do you want Mum to be sad, mate?’
It was my son’s turn to sigh.
‘No, I don’t,’ he said.
I sighed deeply, feeling that the conversation was over. Climbing down from my seat halfway to the stairs, I put down my bags and called out.
‘Mason! Victor! Mummy’s home!’ I called loudly.
‘We’re here,’ Victor shouted.
I walked into Mason’s room and saw Victor sitting on his bed and our son sitting on the floor surrounded by his toys.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, and Mason jumped into my arms.
‘Nothing, sweetheart,’ Victor replied with a wink. ‘Just boys’ talk. Welcome home.’
Victor stood up and kissed me on the top of my head as I was leaving.
‘I have to get back to work,’ he said.
I spent the rest of the evening feeling anxious. I wanted to believe Victor when he said that the conversation I had overheard was really nothing important.
Perhaps Victor wants to hide the fact that he gave Mason too much sugar or unhealthy food in general, I thought to myself.
After all, Victor had never given me any reason to doubt him. Still, I couldn’t sleep that night. I tossed and turned, and when I couldn’t sleep, I scrolled through my phone, wanting to know how our new clothing line was doing.
I tried to occupy my mind as much as possible. But Victor’s whispered words haunted me: could something as simple as eating the wrong food make me “sad”?
Something was wrong, I knew it.