I Caught the Guy She’s Dating Wearing a Wedding Ring

“You’re late,” my friend, Jen called from the top of the steps.

“By like two minutes,” I replied as I ascended the steps with my daughter.

“I was on time,” Jen smirked.

Yeah, but you’re a dick so it doesn’t count.

“You didn’t have to deal with a three-year-old refusing to get in the car because she’s got the wrong color shoes on,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

As we came to a stop in front of Jen, my daughter raised her foot in the air and mumbled, “Pink.”

“I like your pink shoes,” Jen began.

“Don’t bother,” I said. “She doesn’t like pink today. Shall we go in?”

We walked through the glass doors of the gym and up to the scanners. I removed my membership card from my pocket and swiped it on the machine. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed Jen had walked over to the reception desk.

“Mommy, can we go swimming now?” My daughter asked, tugging on my jacket.

“One minute. Let’s wait over here for Jen,” I replied with one eyebrow raised.

“I want rainbow sparkle shoes next time, Mommy,” my daughter whispered.

“Mmmm. I don’t think rainbow sparkle shoes are a thing,” I said as Jen approached.

“Sorry,” Jen called as she jogged over to us. “I had to pay.”

I eyed her curiously. “Aren’t you a member of this gym?”

“Nah,” she said, stuffing her wallet back into her bag.

“Then why did you ask to go swimming with us at this gym?” I asked, sensing the incoming of fuckery.

Jen looked me in the eye and beamed.

Oh, Christ.

“Pete goes to this gym and I know he works out here on Wednesday mornings.”

There it is.

It’s a stalking mission.

I clasped my hands over my forehead and slowly dragged my palms down my face.

“Oh, stop,” Jen barked. “It’s not a big deal, I just want to see if he’s with his wife.”

There are about eight things wrong with that sentence.

“Why would he… Why? Just why?” I asked, flapping my hands around in disbelief.

“Because they used to work out here together before they separated. He told me he comes alone now and I want to make sure he’s telling the truth.”

Why are you talking about this on dates? Is there an expectation to provide family schedules now? What happened to discussions about favorite board games and satchels?

I stared at Jen for a moment, blinking hard. Then without a word, I took my daughter’s hand and headed for the pool.

A few months ago, Jen began dating a man who claimed to be separated from his wife but was still living with her. When she told me about him, I was convinced he and his wife were still together but Jen didn’t agree.

After splashing about in the pool, Jen changed quickly and headed for the reception area to wait around for Pete.

In a totally normal way.

Fifteen minutes later, when I’d finally got my daughter dry, dressed, and in her “boring” pink shoes, we headed for the exit.

As we reached the changing room doors, Jen burst through them. I stepped aside to avoid colliding with her.

“What are you doing?” I asked, exasperated.

“I saw Pete,” she hissed.

Did he see this crazy? Is he behind you with a pitchfork?

I scoffed. “And you ran away?”

“He didn’t see me. He’s on his own. No wife!” She announced as she raised a fist in the air.

My daughter giggled and copied the celebratory move.

No. Don’t get involved in this. I’m planning to raise you normal style.

“Fantastic. So, can we go?” I asked in a deadpan voice.

“He’s at the reception desk. You go and I’ll stay here. I don’t want him to think I’m stalking him,” Jen replied.

No, it’s better to stifle the psycho tendencies until month six.

“Just message me when he’s gone,” she added, guiding me and my daughter out the door.

“What? But what if he’s there for ages? I don’t even know what he looks like!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, you do,” Jen said with an eye roll. “I showed you pictures. He’s six foot, slim, has a shaved head and he’s wearing a gray t-shirt and black shorts.”

What about his shoulder width and hand span measurements?

“Go!” She said, nudging me out the door.

I scowled at Jen before turning around and walking down the hallway.

“Mommy, what is Jen doing?” My daughter asked.

Best not to think about it, Kid.

“She’s taking a moment to reflect,” I said as we rounded the corner to the reception area.

As we walked past the entrance scanners, I spotted a six-foot, bald man wearing a gray t-shirt and black shorts at the reception desk. He turned around and began heading for the door we were approaching.

“What is refect, Mommy?” My daughter asked as I reached for the glass door handle.

“Erm, to think about something,” I replied as a hand appeared from behind me and grasped the same door handle.

“I’ve got it,” a male voice said.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Pete smiling as he pulled open the door.

Do you open doors for your wife?

“Thank you,” I said as I turned back around.

My hand grasping the door handle fell to my side as something caught my eye.

A glimmer of gold. A gold ring on Pete’s ring finger.

I love how separated he is.

I walked through the doorway, calling out another thank you, and headed across the parking lot with my daughter. Once I reached my car, I scanned the area for Married Dude and found no trace. I messaged Jen to tell her she was clear.

“Mommy, I refect about my shoes and I refect I need rainbow sparkle shoes,” my daughter said as I helped her into her car seat.

“That’s a lot of reflecting,” I said as I pulled the seat belt across her.

“I know,” she nodded.

“Hey!”

I turned around to see Jen approaching.

“Did he leave?” She asked.

No, he’s in the trunk.

“Yeah…” I trailed off. “Erm, I think he was wearing a wedding ring.”

I pulled my head out of the car and closed the door, securing my daughter inside.

“What?” Jen asked, stopping in front of me.

“He held the door open for us and I saw a ring on his finger,” I said, wondering where to settle my gaze.

Jen paused for a moment and then shook her head.

“Nah, it was probably on a different finger or a different type of ring.”

“I don’t think so. It was a gold band and I’m sure it was on his ring finger,” I replied softly.

“No,” she shook her head again. “It’ll be for something else.”

Yeah, maybe the tooth fairy gave it to him.

“Thanks for coming with me. I’ll ask him about it,” she said as she backed away.

I’m sure he’ll be boy scout honest.

She turned and began walking to her car. “Let’s do something next week,” she shouted over her shoulder.

Like an intervention?