Hearing this, I frowned and objected. I said the baby was only three months old and could easily get sick in a noisy, crowded place.
Besides, a party at a big hotel would cost a fortune, and with diapers and formula to buy, we couldn’t afford to be wasteful. Hearing my words, Daniel immediately waved his hand, dismissing my opinion.
“This is our daughter’s baptism, a once-in-a-lifetime event. We can’t just do something small. All my colleagues throw big parties. If we do something shabby, people will look down on us. Plus, this is a chance to invite clients and strengthen relationships. This isn’t just a party for our daughter. It’s about my reputation. You just stay home and take care of Lily. I’ll handle all the reservations. Don’t worry about the money.”
His excessive enthusiasm gave me a bad feeling. Why would a man who used to count every penny when we went grocery shopping suddenly want to throw a party at a luxury hotel?
That night, when Daniel was snoring beside me, I quietly took his phone, unlocked it with his password, and checked his banking app.
What I saw ignited a furious rage within me. Our joint savings account, the $12,000 we had saved for the baby’s delivery costs and emergencies, had been completely withdrawn three days prior.
I quickly checked the transaction history. $5,000 had been directly transferred to Chloe’s account with a clear message: “First payment for delivery costs. Use this for the hospital bill for now.”
A significant portion of the remaining money was used as a deposit for the hotel ballroom. The rest he had likely spent as pocket money.
I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms. He truly was the worst kind of man.
He had used the money his wife had painstakingly saved to pay for his mistress’s delivery costs and then used the rest to plan a lavish party to show off his own hollow image.
I quietly took screenshots of all the transactions and sent them to my secret email. Everything was clear now.
The upcoming party wasn’t for Lily. It was the perfect pretext for Daniel to pre-celebrate the birth of the child he was having with his mistress.
It was a blatant insult to me and my daughter. But Daniel had misjudged me.
He thought I was a docile wife who would just stay quiet and care for the baby. He had no idea that this ostentatious party he was so carefully preparing would become the perfect stage for me to expose everything about his disgusting charade.
I placed his phone back where it was and gently tucked Lily in. I decided to give him a party he would never forget.
The day of the party finally arrived. Early in the morning, my mother was busy getting her granddaughter ready.
She dressed Lily in a beautiful pink dress. I didn’t want to show up looking haggard after childbirth either.
I opened my closet and pulled out the most striking red dress I owned, one I had bought before my pregnancy. The form-fitting dress accentuated my fair skin and cleverly concealed my still-recovering figure.
I sat at my vanity, applied a light layer of foundation, and painted my lips with a vivid red lipstick. I swept my hair up into a neat bun, revealing a bright, determined face.
When I came out of the room, my mother looked at me with a mixture of surprise and pride, complimenting me on how I looked even more beautiful after having a baby.
Daniel, who was busy in the living room checking the guest list, was speechless for a few seconds when he saw me. He came over, wrapped an arm around my waist, and showered me with compliments.
I accepted his false flattery with the calmest demeanor.
At exactly 11:00 a.m., our family arrived at the hotel. The ballroom was spectacularly decorated with balloons, fresh flowers, and a large banner that read, “God bless Lily on her baptism day.”
Guests began to arrive, and soon the three large tables were filled with relatives from both sides. Laughter and the clinking of glasses created a lively atmosphere.
My in-laws greeted guests with beaming faces. My mother-in-law held Lily in her arms, proudly showing her off as she moved from table to table.
Daniel’s aunt came over, stroking Lily’s head and laughing heartily.
“Oh, look at that nose and mouth. She looks just like Daniel, and she’s so plump. Jennifer has done a wonderful job. You grandparents must be so happy to have such a beautiful granddaughter.”
The congratulations were endless. Everyone praised Daniel for being a capable man who had prepared such a wonderful party for his wife and child.
They said I was blessed to have a husband who was a good provider and a family man. I sat at the center table picking at my food, though I couldn’t taste a thing.
My surroundings felt like a perfectly staged play. From my duplicitous husband laughing and chatting outside to the relatives praising this false happiness, no one knew the ugly truth hidden behind the smiles.
I took a sip of water and scanned the entire room. The atmosphere was loud, but my mind was incredibly calm.
It was the absolute serenity of someone who held the entire situation in the palm of her hand.
A thick folder of evidence sat safely in the handbag on my lap. Every document, every photo, every statement was ready.
Today, right here, under these bright lights, with both families and all his friends gathered, I would tear off the mask of the model husband with my own hands.
I would make everyone witness the true face of a man who embezzled from a joint savings account to support his mistress. My composure was the brief calm before a massive storm.
Halfway through the party, people had finished their meals and were starting to chat and make toasts. Suddenly, Daniel stood up.
He picked up his wine glass and lightly tapped it with a spoon to get everyone’s attention. The noise subsided, and all eyes turned to him at the center of the room.
Daniel cleared his throat and began his well-rehearsed speech. His voice was low and smooth.
He thanked the relatives from both sides for taking time out of their busy schedules to attend. He spoke of the hardships of work and the long nights he spent providing for his family.
Then he turned to me with an affectionate gaze and said in a moving voice, “To all our relatives, friends, and colleagues, the person I want to thank the most today is my wife Jennifer. For ten long months, she carried our child and gave birth to a healthy, beautiful daughter. I will always carry the weight of her sacrifice deep in my heart. As an ordinary office worker, to have a stable job and a warm family like this, I believe it’s a blessing on our entire family. This party is not only to celebrate my daughter’s milestone, but also to show my gratitude to my wonderful wife.”
A thunderous round of applause erupted. My in-laws sitting beside me nodded with satisfaction, and some guests smiled with envy.
Daniel raised his wine glass high, made a toast to good health, and downed the glass amidst cheers. The performance had reached its perfect climax, the image of a responsible family man.
If I didn’t know the truth, I would have fallen for it, too.
After emptying his glass, Daniel slowly sat down next to me. In stark contrast to his confident demeanor just moments ago, he leaned in and whispered, his voice low enough for only the two of us to hear.
“Jennifer, when the party’s over, can you pay the bill with your card? My company’s finances are a bit tight at the beginning of the month, so all my cards are maxed out. I used most of my cash on the decorations and tipping the staff. It doesn’t matter who pays between us, right? Please.”
Hearing those words, I managed a faint smile. It was a smile skillfully concealed but filled with contempt.
I turned to him, my gaze serene, and nodded. “Okay, I’ll take care of it. You go and mingle with the guests.”
My easy agreement made Daniel let out a sigh of relief. He patted the back of my hand lightly, then got up again and moved to another table, clinking glasses and laughing loudly with people.
As I watched his back disappear into the crowd, the contempt inside me reached its peak. What a despicable scheme.
He had drained our joint account, sent $2,000 to his mistress for her delivery, and used the rest as a deposit for a party to boost his own ego.
And at the last minute, he planned to dump the remaining balance on me, forcing me to pay for his charade with my own modest salary.
Everything was going according to his plan. But he had miscalculated one thing.
My salary was for my daughter’s formula, not for propping up a traitor’s fragile pride. I quietly unzipped my handbag and placed my hand on the folder of documents inside.
The bill would arrive soon, and the time to end this vulgar play was drawing near.
Around 1:00 p.m., the party was winding down. Guests had put down their forks and were eating fruit.
The chatter continued, but it wasn’t as loud as before. Just then, a young staff member in a white shirt entered from the entrance holding a black bill folder.
He walked straight to the main table where I sat with my in-laws.
He said, “Excuse me, ma’am, sir. I hope you enjoyed your meal. Here is the final bill for the banquet room and catering. After the deposit, the remaining balance is $4,500. Please review and settle the payment.”
The staff member placed the billholder squarely in the middle of the table between me and Daniel.
My in-laws stopped their conversation and looked at their son. Daniel acted nonchalantly, nudging my side with his elbow and winking at me repeatedly.
He gestured with his chin, signaling for me to open my purse and take out my card, but I didn’t move an inch. I sat upright in my chair, my hands clasped on the table, my expression utterly placid.
As I hesitated, Daniel started to get anxious. People were watching.
He leaned close to me, hissing through clenched teeth.
“What are you doing? Hurry up. Everyone’s looking. Just swipe the card. I’ll transfer you the money when we get home.”
I slowly turned my head and looked him straight in the eye. My gaze no longer held patience or submission, but extreme contempt.
I pushed the billholder towards Daniel. Then I stood up straight, cleared my throat, and declared in a voice so clear and sharp that everyone in the room turned to look.
“You pay the bill. It’s not my child’s party after all.”
In an instant, a suffocating silence fell over the banquet hall. The clatter of cutlery stopped immediately.
My in-laws stared at me, dumbfounded. The relatives from both sides began to whisper.
Everyone knew that the baby sleeping peacefully in the bassinet was the child I had given birth to, the child my own mother had cared for since she left the hospital.
And now I was boldly proclaiming that she wasn’t my child.
Daniel’s jaw dropped, the color draining from his face, leaving it deathly pale. He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back down, stammering as he tried to salvage the situation.
“Jennifer, have you been drinking? If you’re drunk, stop making a scene. Our Lily is right there. Have you lost your mind? Everyone, I’m so sorry. My wife is just tired today and isn’t making any sense.”
I violently shook his hand off me.
“I’m not crazy, and I’m not drunk.”
Under everyone’s horrified gaze, I began to turn the tables. I pointed directly at the face of the model husband and spat out each word, clear and deliberate.
“Lily is my daughter. No one can deny that. But this party isn’t for her. This elaborate party is a cover, isn’t it? A party to celebrate the baby that’s about to be born between you and your first love, paid for with the delivery fund you stole from me. Just a few days ago, you sent that woman $5,000 for her hospital bills. You threw an $8,000 party to hide your own filth. And now you’re trying to force me to pay your remaining balance. That illegitimate child is not mine, so I have no obligation to pay this bill.”