When I got sick, I finally saw a side to my husband that I didn’t like. He abandoned me and our newborn baby because he didn’t want to step up and be a good father and husband, so I played along. But I came out on top!

I’m 30, married to a man named Drew who’s 33, and we have a six-month-old baby girl named Sadie. She’s the light of my life—a smile like sunshine, chubby cheeks, and the sweetest little giggle. But apparently, all of that was just a minor inconvenience to my husband when I got sick.

Let me tell you what happened. Strap in, because it still feels like a fever dream, and not just because I had a fever when it all started. This all occurred about a month ago. I’d caught some brutal virus. Not COVID-19, not RSV, but something gnarly.

I mean, this thing came with body aches, chills, and a cough that made my ribs feel like they were being punched from the inside! The worst part? Sadie had just gotten over a cold herself, so I was already drained.

At this point, I was sleep-deprived, sick, and trying to take care of a baby who was still clingy from her own recovery. Strangely, Drew had been acting weird for weeks, even before I got sick. He was distant.

Always on his phone, chuckling at things he wouldn’t share. When I’d ask what was so funny, he’d just shrug and say, “It’s work stuff.” His fuse was short, too. He snapped over stupid things—the dishes in the sink and my forgetting to defrost the chicken.

My husband also kept commenting on how tired I looked. “You always seem exhausted,” he said one night while I rocked Sadie in my arms and tried to suppress a cough.

“Well, yeah, duh. I’m raising a human,” I replied with a tinge of annoyance.

I thought maybe, just maybe, this illness would snap him out of it. I hoped he’d see me struggling and finally step up. Pick up the slack. Be the man I married.

Boy, was I wrong!

The night my fever hit 102.4, I could barely sit up! My hair was stuck to my forehead, my skin burned, and my whole body ached like I’d been hit by a truck! I looked at him and, with all the strength I could muster, I whispered, “Can you please take Sadie? I just need to lie down for 20 minutes.”

He didn’t even blink. “I can’t. Your cough is keeping me up. I NEED SLEEP. I think I’m gonna stay at my mom’s for a few nights.”

I actually laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was so absurd I thought he had to be joking!

He wasn’t.

He actually got up, packed a duffel bag, kissed Sadie on the head—not me—and walked out. All the while, I kept asking him, “Are you serious right now? You’re really leaving?” And he just nodded his head and said nothing.

He didn’t even bother asking how Sadie would be taken care of while I could barely stand! After he left, I sat on the couch holding her while she cried from being overtired and hungry. I stared at the door. My phone buzzed a few minutes later after I texted him.

“You’re seriously leaving me here sick and alone with the baby?” I had texted, still in disbelief.

“You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me. I’d just get in the way. Plus, I’m exhausted and your cough is unbearable.”

I read that text five times and stared at it in shock! My hands were shaking, whether from the fever or the rage, I’ll never know! I couldn’t believe that this man, who was supposed to be my life partner, thought my cough was too much of a hindrance than staying and helping with OUR child while I was clearly sick!?

FINE!

I somehow made it through the weekend. I barely ate. I cried in the shower when Sadie finally napped. I kept her alive on nothing but Tylenol, willpower, and instinct. And during that time, Drew didn’t check in, not once!

I couldn’t rely on family because they were hours away, and although my friends popped in and called now and then, they were too busy, out of town, or had some other reason. The whole time I was burning up in bed, one idea kept playing in my mind: I need to show this man what it feels like to be completely abandoned.

So I did.

I started devising my plan. I figured if he thought being sick and then abandoned wasn’t a big deal, I was going to give him an idea of what it felt like. By the time I felt somewhat human again, with no fever, still coughing but functional, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

So a week later, I texted him.

“Hey babe. I’m feeling much better now. You can come home.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Thank God! I’ve barely slept here. Mom’s dog snores and she keeps asking me to help with yard work.”

Yard work. Poor baby. Imagine that.

Ahead of his return, I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, prepped Sadie’s bottles and food, and even made Drew’s favorite dinner, spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread from scratch. I showered, put on makeup for the first time in two weeks, and wore jeans that didn’t scream “I’ve been up every two hours with a baby.”

When he walked in, he looked around like everything was back to normal. He was smiling, looking relaxed, ate like a king, burped, and then collapsed onto the couch with his phone! He barely said a word to me about the week I had endured!

A few minutes into his relaxation time, I finally struck!

“Hey,” I said sweetly, “Can you hold Sadie for a sec? I need to grab something upstairs.”

“Sure,” he muttered after sighing and rolling his eyes. He kept scrolling TikTok with one hand and held her with the other.

I came down five minutes later with my small suitcase and my car keys. Sadie was smiling and babbling in his lap.

Noticing the movement, he blinked. “What’s that?”

“I booked a weekend spa retreat,” I said, calm as can be. “Massage, facial, room service. I just need some rest.”

He sat up, confused. “Wait, you’re going now?!”

“Yep. Just two nights. I left instructions. Bottles are labeled and her toys are there. Diapers and wipes are stocked. Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I got lots of groceries. Everything’s good. Unlike you, I actually planned ahead for you. Besides, you’re the dad. You know how to handle this stuff.”

“Claire, I don’t know what to—” he started.

I raised a hand. “No, no. Your words last week, remember? ‘You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me.’ Now it’s your turn.”

He seemed gobsmacked for a few seconds before he said, “Wait—Claire, c’mon. You can’t just—”

“I can. I am. You abandoned me when I needed you most. So now you’ll see what it’s like to carry everything alone. Don’t call unless it’s a real emergency. And no pawning her off on your mom. You’re the dad. Figure it out.”

He just stared at me with his eyes wide. I don’t think he was processing what was happening.

“You wanted sleep? Good luck getting any. Bye-bye, dear. I’ll be back Sunday night!”

And then I walked out. I didn’t slam the door. I didn’t cry in the car. I drove 45 minutes to a beautiful, tranquil, and quiet little inn with a spa and free chocolate chip cookies in the lobby.

That day, I vowed not to answer any calls or texts. I figured if there was a real issue, Drew could get in touch with his mother or take Sadie to the hospital. I even ignored the first wave of panicked voicemails and FaceTime attempts.

Instead, I had a 90-minute massage, took naps, read by the fireplace, got a pedicure, and watched trashy reality shows in a fluffy robe. Bliss!

Saturday? Slept in until 9 a.m., got a facial, and ate a warm croissant while reading a book by the fire.

He did call twice. Left two voicemails. One was mild panic. The other was an attempt to guilt-trip me.

“Claire, Sadie won’t nap. I don’t know how you do this. She spit up on me twice. Please call back.”

I didn’t.

But I did FaceTime that evening because, despite everything, I missed my daughter, and unlike him, I still really loved him.

When the screen lit up, Drew looked like he’d aged 10 years. Sadie was in his arms, hair a mess, chewing on his hoodie string. Her diaper looked… full.

“Hey, Sadie-bug,” I said, my voice softening. “Mommy misses you.”

She smiled. Reached for the screen. Drew looked like he wanted to melt.

“Claire,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t realize how hard this is!”

No kidding!

I nodded. “I know.”

Sunday evening, I came home to a war zone! Toys everywhere. Dirty bottles in the sink. Drew was still in the same shirt from the day before, his eyes sunken, hair sticking up like a cartoon scientist!

Sadie squealed and giggled when she saw me! I scooped her up and kissed her all over! She smelled like baby wipes and panic, but was fine, maybe a little clingy.

Drew just looked at me like he was seeing a goddess with infinite powers—exhausted and ashamed.

“I get it now,” he whispered. “I really do.”

“Do you?” I asked.

He nodded. “I messed up.”

I pulled out a folded paper from my purse and placed it on the table. Don’t get excited, it wasn’t divorce papers, at least, not yet. He looked down like a deer caught in headlights, probably thinking the papers were the end of our marriage.

But it was a list. A schedule. Morning duties, nighttime feedings, grocery runs, laundry, baths. His name was next to half of them.

“You don’t get to tap out anymore,” I told him. “I need a partner. Not a third child.”

He nodded, slowly. “Okay. I’m in.”

To his credit, he has been trying. He wakes up when Sadie cries at night. He makes her bottles and finally managed to change her diaper without gagging! He even learned to swaddle her without watching a tutorial!

But I’m not stupid. I’m not rushing to forgive him. I’m still watching. Still deciding.

But at least now, he knows: love doesn’t mean allowing someone to walk all over you, and I’m not the type of woman you leave behind when things get tough.

I’m the woman who makes sure you never, ever forget it.

In the following story, a woman was thrilled when her boyfriend proposed but, his mother quickly shut down any idea of them actually getting married. To cut a long story short, the jilted woman didn’t take the slight lying down and got revenge in the best way possible!