I thought our gender reveal would be the happiest day of my life.
Cute decorations. A big reveal box. Both families in the backyard. Cameras everywhere. My husband smiling like he’d just won the lottery.
Two days before the party, I saw something on his phone that changed everything.
And I decided the “reveal” would go exactly as planned.
I’m Rowan. I’m thirty-two, pregnant with my first baby, and I hosted the most unhinged gender reveal party you can imagine.
Not because I wanted to be dramatic.
Because my husband, Blake, is a cheater.
And my sister, Harper, is the little heart emoji in his phone.
Yeah. That Harper.
Blake and I had been together eight years, married for three. He’s charming in that irritating way where strangers tell you, “You’re so lucky,” and you nod like you didn’t spend last night cleaning up his empty beer cans while he “worked late.”
