After I got pregnant, my husband started acting strange—late-night “work dinners,” nights out with friends, and excuses that made my worries grow. One day, while doing laundry, a note fell from his coat pocket. It said, “I’ve had the time of my life.” My heart sank, and instead of confronting him, I decided to follow him the next time he went out.
When he left later that week, I quietly trailed him to an outdoor venue lit with string lights. To my shock, I saw him behind a DJ booth, adjusting equipment and preparing for an event. Nothing about the scene made sense—why all the secrecy? Why the late nights? And what was the note about?
When he got home, I told him everything. He didn’t get angry; he laughed gently and explained. He had been secretly DJing events for months to earn extra money. The note was simply a song request from a wedding guest.
Then he told me the truth that broke me in the best way: he was saving up to surprise me with a custom rocking chair and a handmade baby cradle—the ones I loved but said we couldn’t afford. I had feared betrayal, but he was only trying to be a devoted husband and future father, giving our baby something special from him.
