SZ BREAKING NEWS 🚨 Larry sends Bethany a group photo with Jaden and his child. Bethany sees it and is shocked. Read More Full Story in 1ST COMMENT 👇

 BREAKING NEWS 🚨 Larry sends Bethany a group photo with Jaden and his child. Bethany sees it and is shocked.

Bethany was halfway through reheating her coffee—again—when her phone buzzed on the counter.

One vibration.
Then another.
Then the unmistakable ping of a photo message.

Larry.

She frowned. Larry never sent photos. Larry barely sent punctuation.

She wiped her hands on her sweater and picked up the phone.

At first, her brain refused to process what she was seeing.

A group photo.

Larry, grinning too wide.
Jaden, standing stiffly beside him.
And between them—

A child.

A small boy, maybe four or five, with Jaden’s eyes. Same deep-set stare. Same crooked left eyebrow. Same exact face Bethany had memorized over years of loving Jaden, fighting with him, forgiving him, and finally—painfully—letting him go.

Her stomach dropped so fast it felt like she’d missed a step on the stairs.

Larry: “Crazy running into you today. Thought you should see this.”

Bethany stared at the screen, her coffee forgotten, now cold, the microwave beeping angrily in the background like it was scolding her for not paying attention.

“Thought you should see this?” she whispered aloud. “Thought I should see what, Larry?”

Her hands began to shake.

She zoomed in on the photo. The child’s hand was wrapped tightly around Jaden’s finger—not Larry’s. Jaden’s. Possessive. Familiar. Like this wasn’t some random moment, but a routine. Like this was something they did all the time.

Bethany’s chest tightened.

She hadn’t spoken to Jaden in almost two years. The breakup had been messy, dragged out, full of half-truths and “I just need time” excuses. He’d sworn there was no one else. No secret life. No baggage he hadn’t told her about.

“No kids,” he’d said, laughing. “I can barely keep a plant alive.”

Her phone buzzed again.

Larry: “Didn’t know if you already knew. Seemed… important.”

Important.

Bethany sank into a chair.

Her mind started racing, replaying moments she’d brushed off back then. Jaden disappearing for whole weekends. Calls he took outside. That one time he’d panicked when she suggested moving in together, saying, “There are things you don’t know about me.”

She’d thought he meant emotional stuff.

Not this.

She typed, erased, typed again.

Bethany: “Who is the child?”

The three dots appeared immediately. Then vanished. Then appeared again.

Minutes passed.

Finally:

Larry: “His son.”

The word hit her like a slap.

Son.

Bethany laughed once—sharp, humorless. “Of course,” she said to no one. “Of course.”

Another message followed.

Larry: “Jaden didn’t want me to say anything. But when I saw your name pop up in his contacts earlier today, I figured you deserved to know.”

Her heart pounded. Earlier today? So Jaden still had her number. Still carried her around in his phone like a ghost he couldn’t delete.

She opened the photo again, this time looking at Jaden.

He didn’t look surprised to be there.
He didn’t look guilty.
He looked… settled.

That hurt more than anything.

Bethany stood up abruptly, pacing the kitchen. Anger began to cut through the shock, hot and bright. How many times had she cried over that man? How many nights had she blamed herself for “asking too much,” for wanting clarity, for wanting a future?

All while he was already someone’s father.

Her phone buzzed again.

This time, a new name.

Jaden.

Her breath caught.

Jaden: “Hey. I’m guessing Larry sent you something.”

She stared at the message, thumb hovering. A hundred responses fought for space in her head—rage, sarcasm, heartbreak, silence.

She chose honesty.

Bethany: “You have a child.”

A pause. Longer this time.

Jaden: “Yes.”

Just that. Yes.

No apology. No explanation.

The simplicity of it made her vision blur.

Bethany: “You looked me in the eye and told me there was nothing you were hiding.”

Another pause.

Jaden: “I was trying to protect everyone.”

Bethany let out a shaky breath that turned into a bitter smile.

“Classic,” she murmured.

Bethany: “You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting yourself.”

Dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Jaden: “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

That was it.

Something inside her snapped—but not in the way she expected. Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Quietly.

Cleanly.

Bethany straightened, feeling strangely calm.

Bethany: “You’re right. I don’t understand. And I don’t need to anymore.”

She locked her phone and placed it face-down on the table.

Outside, the world kept moving. Cars passed. A dog barked. Somewhere, life went on—messy, surprising, relentless.

Bethany took a deep breath.

She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. But underneath it all, she felt something new blooming in the wreckage.

Relief.

Because now she knew the truth.