The Movie Star Husband and the
Baby Bombshell
My famous actor husband, Jake, went
completely bonkers when he found out I was
pregnant. Like, next–level bonkers. The guy
actually posted online, asking:
“My wife’s expecting! What can I get her
besides a yacht, a mansion, and a private
jet?”
I saw the picture of the pregnancy test he’d
plastered all over his socials and thought,
“Well, might as well roll with this.” So, I
chimed in, all sweet and innocent:
“How about a plane ticket? We need to be
attached at the hip!”
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Next thing I knew, my Twitter feed exploded. I
was getting roasted alive:
“Seriously, Riley? You’re like a barnacle! Trying to latch onto Sarah and Jake’s baby?
Disgusting.”
I was so confused. I clicked over to Sarah’s
live stream, and there she was, chilling in my
sweats, in the new freaking mansion Jake got me, bossing people around about doulas and
organic baby food.
I went nuclear. I jumped into her stream,
demanding she get her butt out of my house.
But before I could even get a word in
edgewise, Jake’s personal account jumped
into her stream, dropping virtual confetti and
showering her with digital gifts, professing his
く
Sarah, the queen of smug, dared me to show
up at the mansion, face–to–face. I drove over,
ready to rip her a new one, but she just
casually waved a marriage certificate,
property deed, and a signed prenatal record
with Jake’s signature right under my nose.
I was seeing red. I called Jake, my voice
dripping with ice:
“You better explain this Sarah mess, and you
better do it now, or you’re sleeping on the
couch for the rest of your life!”
Like I said, Jake was thrilled to hear about the
pregnancy. He went full–on Daddy–mode,
showering me with yachts, mansions, and
private jets, and was still looking for more
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ways to spoil me. Hence, the desperate social
media plea:
“My wife’s expecting! What can I get her
besides a yacht, a mansion, and a privatel
jet?”
I even felt a little touched when he plastered
my pregnancy test all over Instagram. So, I
figured, might as well join in:
“How about a plane ticket? We need to be
attached at the hip!”
As soon as I hit “send,” my notifications
started blowing up. I was a little nervous,
since, for Jake’s career, we’d kept our
marriage and baby plans on the DL.
But when I finally clicked through, I nearly
く
choked. Every single comment was a variation
of “stop trying to steal the spotlight“:
“Riley, haven’t you embarrassed yourself
enough? Seriously, quit trying to be relevant.
“You’re trying to claim Jake and Sarah’s kid
now? Get real!”
