I Returned from a Business Trip and Discovered My Son’s Sketch Featuring His ‘New Mommy’ – The Woman Depicted Was Familiar from the Cafe
Let me share how a simple drawing turned my world upside down. I’m Harper, and it all started when I stumbled upon a picture my son drew, featuring himself and someone I didn’t recognize. What followed was a series of events that changed my life forever.
I’ve never been good at being away from my family. Working one week a month in a different city was supposed to be a great career move, but I find myself missing my husband Shawn and my son Marcus more than I ever thought possible.
Every time I step off that plane and see their smiling faces waiting for me, it feels like coming home after a long, exhausting journey. This time was no different.
I returned home late Friday night and was welcomed with hugs and kisses. Shawn had made my favorite lasagna, and Marcus had a new drawing to show me. My heart swelled with love and contentment. Little did I know, that was about to change.
Saturday morning, I decided to do some cleaning. With a cup of coffee in one hand and my hair tied up in a messy bun, I made my way to Marcus’ room.
It was a typical eight-year-old’s room: toys scattered everywhere, crayons on the floor, and stacks of papers with his various drawings. I started picking up and smiling at the doodles of dinosaurs, rockets, and family portraits. Then I saw it.
A drawing titled “Me and my new Mommy.” My heart stopped. NEW MOMMY? My hands shook as I stared at the picture. It was Marcus, smiling brightly, holding hands with a woman who was definitely not me. She had blonde hair and wore big, red earrings.
“No way… Shawn wouldn’t… would he?” I muttered to myself, feeling my eyes sting with tears. I slumped onto Marcus’ bed, clutching the picture. The thought of Shawn cheating on me and introducing our son to another woman felt like a punch to the gut.
I was about to spiral into a full-blown panic when I noticed something else in the picture. There, in Marcus’ innocent handwriting, was the name of our favorite family cafe: “At Jack’s.”
I had to know the truth. There was no way I could sit on this information. I wiped my tears and took a deep breath. I needed a plan.
“Hey Shawn,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady as I walked into the living room where he was reading. “How about we go out for brunch tomorrow? Maybe At Jack’s?”
Shawn looked up from his book, a smile spreading across his face. “Sounds great, Harper. It’s been a while since we went there together.”
The next day, we headed to the cafe. Marcus was excited, chattering about pancakes and syrup. On the other hand, I felt like I was walking towards my doom. My mind raced with thoughts of confronting this mysterious “new mommy” and what it would mean for our family.
We arrived at the cafe, and I scanned the room, my heart pounding. We sat at our usual table, and I tried to act normal, though my mind was anything but. I kept glancing around, hoping I was wrong. And then, I saw her.
The woman from Marcus’ drawing. She had the same blonde hair and those distinctive red earrings. She was a waitress, carrying a tray of coffee cups, and she noticed us almost immediately. My stomach twisted into knots. She walked over to our table, a warm smile on her face.
“Good morning! What can I get for you folks today?” she asked cheerily.
I took a deep breath and looked at Marcus, who was eagerly flipping through the menu. “Honey, is that your ‘new mommy?’” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
Marcus looked up, his eyes wide. “Yes, that’s Jessica!”
Shawn’s face turned crimson. “How did you…”
Jessica smiled even broader, kneeling to Marcus’ level. “Tell her, Marcus. She needs to know what you feel.”
“What do you mean?” Shawn asked, looking genuinely confused.
“Oh, stop, as if you don’t know,” I snapped, pulling out the picture from my purse. “About this.”
Shawn looked bewildered as I handed him the drawing. “It’s Marcus’.”
He took the picture, his brow furrowing. “Again, please. What’s happening?”
I felt a wave of frustration and hurt wash over me. “I found this yesterday while cleaning Marcus’ room. I saw the name of this cafe and had to know what was going on. Marcus called her his ‘new mommy.’”
“But it’s nonsense,” Shawn said, shaking his head. He turned to Marcus, trying to keep his voice calm. “Marcus, buddy, tell your mom.”
Marcus looked up at me, his big brown eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and honesty. He pointed to Jessica, the waitress. “I wish she were my mommy.”
My heart sank. “But why, honey?”
Marcus glanced at Jessica, who gave him an encouraging nod. “You’re missing all the time. But Jessica is so kind to me. She brings me pancakes with funny faces on them. She likes my drawings.”
Jessica knelt beside Marcus, her face soft and understanding. “He showed me this picture. What did I tell you, Marcus?”
“To speak to Mom and tell her what I feel,” Marcus replied, his voice small but sincere.
At that moment, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. They streamed down my face as I realized how much my little boy needed me. He needed his mom, not just physically, but emotionally. I was always gone, always working, and he found comfort in someone else because I wasn’t there.
I knelt and pulled Marcus into a tight hug, feeling his small arms wrap around me. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know you felt this way. I promise I’ll do better.”
Shawn put a hand on my shoulder, his voice softening. “Harper, you’re a great mom. We just need to figure out a way to make this work.”
I nodded, still holding Marcus close. “I’ll talk to my boss. I’ll quit these trips if I have to. You’re more important than my job, Marcus. I promise I’ll be here for you.”
Jessica stood up, giving us some space. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just wanted Marcus to feel happy and safe while he was here.”
I wiped my tears and managed a small smile. “Thank you, Jessica. You’ve been really kind to him. I appreciate it.”
As we finished our brunch, the tension slowly melted away. We talked and laughed, and I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I needed to be there for my family, no matter what.
When we got home, I immediately called my boss. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but I explained that I needed to stop the business trips. My boss was surprisingly understanding, and we worked out a new arrangement that allowed me to stay home more.
That evening, as I tucked Marcus into bed, he looked up at me with a sleepy smile. “Are you really going to be home more, Mommy?”
I kissed his forehead, my heart swelling with love. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m going to be here with you every day. No more long trips.”
He hugged me tightly. “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, Marcus. More than anything in the world.”
Shawn joined us, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around both of us. “We’re a team, remember? We’ll figure everything out together.”
As I lay in bed that night, Shawn’s arms around me, I felt a deep sense of peace. Our family was stronger than ever, and I knew we could face anything as long as we were together. The drawing that had once filled me with fear now reminded me of the importance of being present.
And from that day on, I made a promise to myself to always put my family first. Because no job, no matter how important, could ever compare to the love we shared.
I Went to Care for My Sick Boyfriend, but What I Found Changed Everything and Brought Someone Unexpected into My Life — Story of the Day
I went to check on my boyfriend, worried he was too sick to even text me back. But what I found shattered my trust and sent my world spinning. Days later, the last person I ever expected showed up at my door, and together, we started something that changed my life forever.
One crisp autumn day, I sat alone in my small, cozy apartment, the sunlight streaming weakly through the windows.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The orange and red leaves outside seemed to mock my restlessness as I stared at my phone, waiting for my boyfriend, Jace, to finally show up.
He hadn’t visited in days, claiming he was just tired, but something about his excuses didn’t sit right with me.
I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, tapping my foot anxiously against the hardwood floor. Finally, I gave up and dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he answered.
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“Hello?” Jace answered, his voice low and groggy, like he’d just woken up.
“Are you sleeping?” I asked, trying to hide the edge in my voice.
“Yeah,” he said, pausing for a second. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I just fell asleep. I’m not feeling great—might have a fever or something.”
“Oh…” I said softly, not sure what else to say.
He coughed hard into the phone, making me wince. “Look, I’ll text you later,” he muttered, his words rushed.
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“Feel bet—” I started, but the line went dead before I could finish.
Frustration bubbled up as I tapped my fingers on the table, my thoughts racing. If Jace was really sick, I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing. I’d take care of him, whether he liked it or not. That’s what girlfriends do, right?
Grabbing my coat, I headed out into the crisp autumn air, determined. The walk to the store was brisk, the kind that makes your cheeks tingle.
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Inside, I picked up fresh fruit, tea, and a box of throat lozenges, imagining how grateful Jace would be when I showed up.
Back at his building, I pressed the elevator button, adjusting the heavy bag on my arm. Usually, I took the stairs, but not today.
The elevator hummed softly as it descended, and I distracted myself by humming along to a tune stuck in my head.
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When the doors slid open, my heart stopped. There he was—Jace—with his arms around a woman I didn’t recognize.
Her face pressed against his chest, and they were so close it made my stomach churn. This wasn’t just a hug. It was something more.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, cutting through the quiet hallway.
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Jace’s head whipped toward me, his face draining of color. “Kate…” he stammered, his arms falling away from the woman. He stepped toward me, his hand reaching out like that would somehow fix things. “I can explain.”
His mouth opened, but I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Just don’t. If you take one more step or say one more word, I swear I’ll make you regret it.” I hurled the bag of groceries at him, the fruit spilling across the floor.
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Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and walked away, my heart pounding with anger and disgust.
He didn’t call after me, didn’t try to stop me, and for that, I was glad. He wasn’t worth it. Not anymore.
A few days had dragged by since I’d caught Jace in the elevator with another woman. He hadn’t bothered to call, text, or even send a pathetic apology.
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Not even a simple “I’m sorry, I’m a jerk, and I don’t deserve you.” Was that too much to ask?
It gnawed at me, this unfinished business. I couldn’t move on, couldn’t let go, because it felt like he was still lurking in my life, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
I decided I needed closure, even if it meant facing him. So, I texted him, my fingers trembling with anger. After a few minutes, he replied.
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@Jace:
Let’s meet tonight at 6 p.m., at our café.
Our café. The place where we had our first date. The nerve. Still, I agreed.
At 6 p.m., I sat in the corner booth, the one we always chose. The warm smell of coffee and pastries surrounded me, but it brought no comfort.
Every time the door opened, I glanced up, expecting to see him. But Jace didn’t show.
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By 7 p.m., I was tapping my foot under the table, staring at the cold tea I hadn’t touched. By 8 p.m., I was furious. Finally, my phone buzzed.
@Jace:
I can’t come. I can’t stand seeing you so sad like this.
I stared at the screen, stunned by his cowardice. What did that even mean? He couldn’t stand seeing me?
He was the one who had cheated, yet he was acting like the victim. My anger boiled over.
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When I finally got home, the fury still burned in my chest. I stomped up the stairs, muttering under my breath.
Then, as I turned the corner, I froze. Standing outside my apartment was her. The woman from the elevator. She looked nervous, like she’d been waiting for me.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the hallway. I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to show up.
“I want to talk to you,” she said, her tone calm but uneasy. “I feel like I owe you… more than just a conversation.”
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I folded my arms tightly, glaring at her. “You’re a few hours late,” I snapped. “I don’t want anything to do with that jerk. You can have him.” Turning away, I fumbled with my keys, determined to shut this conversation down.
“That’s the thing—I don’t want him either,” she said, her voice firmer this time. It stopped me cold. “I finally realized what he’s really like, and I wanted to talk to someone who understands.”
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I hesitated, my hand still on the doorknob. This was absurd, completely insane. But a part of me was curious.
With a deep sigh, I turned back to her. “Fine. Come in,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping aside.
As she entered, I asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Ashley,” she said softly, her eyes darting to the floor.
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“Kate,” I said, introducing myself reluctantly.
“I know,” she admitted, guilt written all over her face.
I walked to the kitchen, motioning for her to follow. “Come on,” I said. “I’d offer you tea, but I think this calls for something stronger.” I grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter and set it down.
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Ashley sat at the table, folding her hands nervously. “You didn’t know about me,” she began. “But I knew you existed. Jace told me he had a girlfriend, but he said you were awful to him. He claimed you ignored him, flirted with other men, made him feel worthless.”
“What the—?! That’s exactly what he did to me!” I burst out, anger flaring.
Ashley nodded slowly. “I see that now, after what happened when you caught us. But back then, I believed him. I thought he was going to leave you and be with me.”
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“Looks like the jerk fooled both of us,” I said bitterly, pouring the wine.
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t want him to get away with it,” she said, her voice steady.
“What are you suggesting?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Ashley smiled, a sly, mischievous grin. “Revenge,” she said simply. “You know how much of a homophobe Jace is?”
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Her words made me pause, curiosity sparking despite my anger. And that was how it all began.
Ashley and I wasted no time setting our plan into motion. We created several profiles for Jace on popular dating sites, carefully crafting his “interests” and uploading photos we had saved from his social media.
We sent flirty messages to men who seemed eager to connect, pretending to be Jace himself.
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“I’m looking for someone special,” we wrote, ending with a winking emoji. We even set up meetups at his apartment, choosing times when we knew he’d be home.
The thought of him opening his door to confused strangers made us laugh until our sides hurt.
On another site, we posted his phone number with the tagline: “Night owl? Call me between 2 and 4 a.m. for some fun.”
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Though we couldn’t track the exact number of calls, the texts we received from Jace told us everything we needed to know. “Who are these people?” “Why won’t my phone stop ringing?” His desperation fueled us to keep going.
The billboard idea was the final touch. We found ad space in the busiest parts of town and designed a bright, eye-catching poster featuring Jace’s smiling face with the caption: “Looking for a man to support and cherish.”
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Seeing the first billboard go up was priceless. We high-fived in the car, imagining his face when he spotted it.
Our phones buzzed nonstop with texts and calls from Jace. “You have to stop this,” he wrote. “Please, I’m begging you!”
Eventually, we responded.
@Me:
We can stop, but there’s one condition.
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@Jace:
I’ll do anything. Just stop.
I sent him the amount—enough for a two-week vacation to Spain. When the transfer hit my account, I sent him one last text.
@Me:
Oops, we forgot the passwords to the accounts, and the billboards are prepaid for two months 
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After sending that final text to Jace, Ashley and I blocked his number. There was nothing more to say. The moment felt oddly triumphant, like closing the chapter of a bad book I’d been stuck reading for far too long.
We immediately turned our focus to planning the trip. A few days later, Ashley and I landed in Spain.
The sun was bright, the air warm, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore was the perfect soundtrack to our newfound freedom.
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We found a spot on the beach, stretched out on lounge chairs, and ordered cold sangria.
Ashley turned to me with a grin. “Best team effort ever,” she said, raising her glass of sangria. I smiled, knowing she was right.
I’d lost a terrible boyfriend but gained one hell of a friend. Revenge never tasted so sweet.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When a grouchy old man slams the door on a persistent teen, he thinks he’s rid of her for good. But when a hurricane traps them together, the storm outside reveals the truth about her shocking connection to his past.
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