My Son Chose The Teacher So I Left The CEO

Seven years of marriage. Seven years of trust. And for the first time, I reached into my husband Romans suit pocket and pulled out a diamond stud earring that wasnt mine.

Me? I hadnt worn real jewelry in years. My ears had probably healed over by now.

I didnt scream. I didnt throw a vase. I just placed the diamond on the dining room table, the cold stone clicking against the wood, and waited for Roman to bring our son home from soccer practice.

The front door swung open, letting in a gust of autumn air and the chaotic energy of a six-year-old. Leo spotted the sparkle immediately.

Mom, did you buy more junk? Leo wrinkled his nose, dropping his cleats on the floor Id just vacuumed. Dad says you spend too much money.

I fought the urge to ground him until college. Ignoring him, I locked eyes with Roman, who was closing the door behind them.

Care to explain whose this is?

Roman froze. He didnt speak. He just stood there, his tailored coat hanging heavy on his shoulders, that handsome, sculpted face of his draining of color.

Leo looked between us, eyes widening. Then, he let out a cruel, high-pitched laugh. Daddy! Did you get me a new mom? Finally!

A six-year-old shouldnt sound like a mean girl from a teen movie, but thanks to TikTok and too much screen time, mine did. He turned to me, his face twisted in a sneer.

Youre so cringe, Mom. You look like a homeless person. Im so embarrassed by you. Just leave!

He bounced on his toes, pointing at the diamond. That looks like Ms. Summers' earring! Yes! I want Ms. Summers to be my mom. Shes pretty and she smells like vanilla, and she likes Daddy so much.

Every word was a serrated blade, sawing specifically at the parts of me Id been trying to hide.

Hearing this, Romans hand, which had been clenched at his side, relaxed. The panic in his eyes shifted instantly to a dark, terrifying calm.

He walked to the mudroom closet. He didnt grab a shoehornwe aren't in the 1950sbut he came back holding the two things Leo feared most in this world: the charging cable for his iPad, and the wooden spoon I used for stirring pasta saucea relic of Romans Italian grandmothers style of discipline.

He slapped the spoon against his own palm. Thwack.

Leo, Romans voice was a low rumble, vibrating with a danger I rarely heard. He held out both items.

Son, do you want the Spoon, or do you want to lose the iPad for a month? Pick one.

1

I looked at Romans offering. The spoon was mostly for showa threat of old-school justice. The charging cable represented modern death for a digital native.

The simmering rage of the Seven Year Itch was suddenly doused by the ice-cold bucket of my sons betrayal. It was so absurd, so brutal, that I actually wanted to laugh.

Before I could even weigh in, Leo wailed. It was a nuclear siren of a cry, the sound of a privileged child facing consequences for the first time.

Daddy, no! Youre gonna punish me? For her? For the ugly cleaning lady?

He stamped his little feet, shaking with indignation. I hate you! I hate her! I want Ms. Summers!

Romans face went dark as a thunderhead.

He didnt hesitate. He dropped the cable, grabbed Leo by the back of his jersey, andthwackone solid, stinging swat to the backside with his hand, not the spoon.

It wasn't abusive, but it was shocking. Leos wail cut off instantly, replaced by a stunned silence, followed immediately by a scream that could shatter glass.

Im calling the police! This is abuse! Im telling TikTok!

I watched coldly. I didn't move a muscle to save him.

Roman hauled the screaming child to the Naughty Corner facing the wall, pointed a finger that meant stay, and then turned to me. The exhaustion in his dark eyes was bottomless.

Rene, he said, his voice cracking. I am so sorry. I have failed as a father.

He picked up the diamond stud from the table, frowning at it like it was radioactive waste. This... I think this does belong to that teacher, Ms. Summers. But I swear to God, Rene, I have no idea how it ended up in my pocket.

I stared him down.

Roman had beautiful eyes. They used to be the kind of bedroom eyes that made college girls stop in their tracks. Now, lines of stress fanned out from the corners, but they were still honest.

He was a lot of things, but he wasn't a liar. I knew that.

But that earring was a thorn, and it was buried deep.

Ms. Summers, I said, testing the name. The one who teaches first-grade English? The blonde? The 'hot' one?

Yeah, Roman nodded, then quickly added, I mean, I don't think she's hot.

His survival instinct was kicking in, but it wasn't enough to put out the fire.

So explain the physics of this, I pointed at the jewelry.

Before Roman could speak, Leo, sniffling from the corner, yelled out his defense. It is hers! I saw her wearing it! She lost it today and was crying! She said... she said she hoped a handsome prince would find it so she could marry him!

She also said Daddy looks like a movie star...

Roman and I exchanged a look. The pieces clicked into place.

Roman marched over to the corner, spun Leo around, and crouched down. His voice was deadly serious. Leo. Look at me. Did you pick up Ms. Summers' earring and put it in my pocket?

Leos eyes darted around the room. He poked out his bottom lip. Silence.

Answer me! Roman barked.

Leo broke. He dissolved into tears again. I just wanted her to be in our family! Shes so nice! Not like Mom! Mom wears gross pajamas all day and her hair is messy and she looks like a zombie! The kids at school say my mom looks like the nanny!

2

Kids say the darndest things. They also say the things that destroy you.

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant, cold hand. I couldn't breathe.

Seven years. I went from being Rene, the rising star in graphic design, the woman who wore structured blazers and commanded boardrooms, to this. A domestic engineer. A chauffeur. A cook.

I gave up the dream. I gave up the gloss. All for this house. All for them.

And to my own flesh and blood, I was just gross, old, and the nanny.

Roman looked stricken. He saw the color drain from my face, saw the light go out in my eyes. He let go of Leo and crossed the room in two strides, pulling me into his chest.

Shut up! he roared at our son, true anger vibrating in his chest. Leo, apologize to your mother. Now!

No! Leo jutted his chin out, doubling down on his bratty defiance. Im right! Look at her! What is she wearing? She never brushes her hair! At the PTA meeting, all the other moms had makeup and dresses. She wore sweatpants. Tobys mom laughed at me!

I stiffened in Romans arms. The PTA meeting.

I remembered that day. Id spent three hours making the organic bento box Leo demanded, then scrubbed the master bath. By the time I looked at the clock, I had twenty minutes.

I threw on my Lululemonsthe expensive ones, I thought that countedand ran out the door. I didn't even check a mirror.

I didn't realize that in my sons world, my devotion was his humiliation.

Roman hugged me tighter, turning his head to glare at his son with eyes like ice. Leo. Your mother wakes up before the sun to make your breakfast. She cleans this house while you sleep. She doesn't have time to 'dress up' because every second of her time is spent serving you.

I don't care! Leo screamed. I want a pretty mom! Ms. Summers is pretty!

Okay. That's enough. I gently pushed Roman away. I took a deep breath, willing my voice not to shake.

I walked over to Leo. I knelt down so I was eye-level with him. I looked into eyes that were shaped exactly like mine, but filled with a strangers contempt.

Leo. You think Im not good enough. You want to trade me in. Is that it?

He flinched at the dead calm in my voice, but he nodded.

Okay, I stood up. The sharp pain in my chest had faded, replaced by a numb, cold wasteland.

I looked at Roman. I spoke clearly, enunciating every syllable.

Roman. I want a divorce.