My Daughter’s Teacher Is Flirting with My Husband–But He’s a Freeloader!
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My husband showed up in a sports car to pick up our daughter, and her teacher was so impressed she added him on social media.
She claimed it was to “better communicate about the child’s education.”
Soon after, her profile picture changed to a heavily filtered selfie, and her social posts turned into daily updates about being “so ready to find love.”
I was blissfully unaware of this little drama–until one day, I caught my husband
video–calling her while holding our daughter.
“Daddy, I want Miss Taylor to be my new mommy!” my daughter chirped.
“Yes, yes, Daddy will get a divorce right away,” my husband replied with a grin.
Watching the three of them act like a happy little family, I couldn’t help but laugh coldly.
Seriously? Just because he’s driving a fancy car, my husband–who lives off me–thinks
he’s a billionaire now?
Time to remind him where he came from. He can crawl back to his broke job anytime.
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For our 10th wedding anniversary, I bought my husband, Mason, a silver sports car to
celebrate.
The moment he saw it, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning.
It wasn’t just any sports car–it was one of only ten limited editions in the world. Not something money alone could buy.
Mason had gushed about this car more than once, so I figured I’d surprise him. After all, our anniversary also happened to be his birthday.
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During the test drive, Mason couldn’t wait to snap pictures and show off to his friends. But in his excitement, he accidentally posted it in our daughter Angie’s preschool group
chat.
The quiet group chat immediately exploded.
“Oh my gosh, isn’t this one of those global limited–edition cars? I can’t believe the real deal is in our group!”
“Angie’s dad, what kind of business are you in? You must be loaded!”
I quickly messaged Mason, telling him to delete the post. But it had been over two
minutes–too late to retract it. All we could do was watch as the messages poured in.
Some parents even started asking if Mason could invest in their business ideas.
And Mason? He was eating it up.
“Oh, no, no,” he replied humbly. “Just a small investment here and there. Made a bit of money, so I decided to treat myself.”
Small investments? Sure. The only thing he “owned” was a failing internet café I paid for, and it had been hemorrhaging money since day one.
With his lack of business skills, Mason couldn’t afford a sports car in ten lifetimes.
Still, he was my husband, and I wasn’t about to embarrass him in front of everyone. So, I
kept quiet.
That’s when Angie’s teacher, Miss Taylor, suddenly chimed in.
At first, I thought she was going to tell everyone to stop chatting about unrelated topics in a preschool group.
But instead, she directly tagged Mason:
“@Angie’s Dad, I’ve sent you a friend request. Please accept it–I need to discuss some things about Angie’s behavior at school.”
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Miss Taylor’s response came quickly: “Let’s discuss this privately.”
I started to worry. Had something happened to Angie at school? I sent Miss Taylor a
private message asking if everything was okay.
She didn’t reply.
Instead, she updated her profile picture.
Her old photo had been a scenic landscape. Now, it was a close–up selfie–her wearing a
white tank top, strategically revealing just enough skin to leave an impression.
It gave off serious “pick–me” vibes.
I called Mason. “What did Angie’s teacher say?”
He sounded casual. “Nothing specific. She just asked me to stop by the school. I’m heading there now.”
“Drive safe,” I said, hanging up.
At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I went back to work, assuming it was just a minor
issue.
A few moments later, Mrs. Lee, one of the moms from the group chat, sent me a private
message.
Her family owned a beauty salon I frequented, so we’d gotten to know each other over
time.
“Angie’s Mom, don’t you think this Miss Taylor messaging your husband is a little… off?”
I replied politely, brushing it off with a couple of vague responses.
