
My husband had been visiting our beautiful new neighbor quite often, helping with heavy boxes or fixing a lightbulb. One day, I couldn’t take it anymore and went over with some cookies, pretending to be a friendly neighbor. That’s when I saw a little boy… He was the spitting image of my husband!
I began noticing how often David helped our new neighbor, Lauren. At first, it seemed harmless—carrying boxes, fixing a broken door, simple things neighbors usually do. But as the days went by, his visits to her house became more frequent.
“Why do you keep going over there?” I asked him one night, my voice betrayed a hint of annoyance.
He shrugged, barely looking up from his phone.
“She just needs help with a few things. It’s no big deal, Sarah.”
“No big deal? You’ve been over there almost every day this week.”
David sighed, brushing me off with a wave of his hand.
“You’re overthinking this. She’s a single mom; she just needs some support. It’s nothing.”
He wouldn’t cheat on me, right? Not David. He’s just being kind, that’s all.
For a moment, I let it go, convincing myself that my husband couldn’t be doing anything wrong. But then came that afternoon, the one that changed everything.
I came home earlier than usual. As I walked up the driveway, I saw them.
David and Lauren were standing on her porch. They were close, too close. And then it happened. His arms wrapped around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
What is he doing? Why is he holding her like that?
Suddenly, all those little doubts I had shoved aside came crashing down, louder than ever.
David, my David, was cheating.
The next morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something. Sitting there, watching David act like nothing was wrong, was driving me crazy.
I had to see Lauren myself. Maybe I was wrong, and there was some innocent explanation for all of this. But if there wasn’t, I needed to know.
I grabbed a box of cookies, hoping it would make me look friendly instead of nosy.
“Just a neighborly visit,” I told myself, walking across the street to Lauren’s house.
Lauren opened the door, looking surprised to see me.
“Oh, hi, Sarah!”
“Hi, Lauren,” I replied, holding up the cookies like a peace offering.
“I thought I’d bring these over. You know, just to say ‘welcome to the neighborhood.’”
“That’s so sweet of you. Come in.”
Lauren was still a bit shocked.
The house smelled faintly of fresh paint, and toys were scattered around the living room. As we made small talk, my eyes darted around, searching for any sign of David’s presence, anything that might confirm my worst fears. I could hardly focus on what Lauren was saying.
Suddenly, a small boy came running into the room, giggling. He couldn’t have been older than five. He had dark hair, the same shade as David’s, and those familiar brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat.
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“Max, say hi,” Lauren said, smiling at the boy.
Max waved shyly before running off to play. I stood there, frozen. That boy… he looked so much like David.
Could it be? Could Max be David’s son?
The resemblance was uncanny, and the thought that David might have a child with Lauren twisted my gut in ways I didn’t think were possible.
“Sarah, it’s Max’s birthday, and we’re having a little party. Nothing too big, just a few friends, cake, you know. Come with David. It will be fun!”
ROYAL TRAGEDY. William and Kate are in shock.

When the Prince and Princess of Wales bought pizza for mountain rescue workers, they met a man selling pizza and wrote a touching funeral speech for him.
Father of two Peter Morris, who was 47 years old, died of cancer in May, not long after Kate was told she had it.
On notepaper from Kensington Palace, Prince William wrote his wife Tracey a letter of condolence. When he died, it was read.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what a huge hole he will leave in your life,” he wrote. “My heart goes out to you and your family.”
“Catherine and I had a great time meeting Pete.”
“We know Pete was a very dedicated and well-liked member of the community because of how people have responded to his death.”
“I wanted you to know that you and your family are thinking about you right now.”
In April of last year, Kate and Wills bought 12 pizzas from Peter’s converted VW van for £127.50. Peter is from Ebbw Vale in South Wales.
They gave the Central Beacons Mountain Rescue Team a choice of pizzas while they were at Dowlais Rugby Club in Merthyr Tydfil. The pizzas were margarita, pepperoni, BBQ chicken, and goats cheese.
At the time, Peter said, “They were really nice.” When I was setting up the business, I never would have thought that one day I would work for the young king.

In 2016, Pete opened Little Dragon Pizza Van.
He had beaten esophageal cancer, but doctors found it in his adrenal gland and liver four months after he became a royal. He died in less than a year, but the business keeps going.
The letter from William will be framed for Pete’s daughters, who are eight and five years old.
Tracey, who is 40 years old, told The Sun, “It was a huge surprise.” I have no idea how they learned that Pete had died. Because Kate is getting help, it may have struck a chord with them.
“He talked about how normal they were.”
“Many people wrote to tell us they loved Pete, but the letter from William and Kate was the most lovely.”

William wrote his wife Tracey a letter of condolence on paper from Kensington Palace.
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