I’ve been dating a divorced man with 2 kids for 5 years. This year, on his daughter’s birthday, we went to drop her off at his mom’s house. I was invited in to look at the presents she got from her mom and grandmother. My heart sank when I noticed that one of the gifts—an art set in a pink case—was one I had bought and wrapped just a week earlier.

It still had the small sticker on the side where I had scribbled “To Mia, from Lily,” but someone had tried peeling it off. Poorly. My handwriting was still faintly visible. I blinked, trying not to make a scene. I didn’t want to ruin a child’s birthday over a gut feeling, but the confusion and sting of betrayal made it hard to breathe.

After cake and laughter and way too many pictures, I quietly asked my boyfriend, Mark, if he had given the gift to his ex-wife to pass off as hers.

He looked at me like I had grown two heads. “What are you talking about?” he said, chuckling like I was joking.

I wasn’t.