The story behind this AITA post reads like emotional shrapnel that never fully heals. After a marriage shattered by infidelity, three kids caught in the crossfire, and a long, bitter custody battle, a mother found herself face to face with her ex-husband and the woman he cheated with.
The pair approached her during a school Halloween event, hoping for sympathy over something deeply personal: the affair partner’s infertility.

But their request for comfort didn’t land the way they expected. Instead, it sparked anger, accusations, and an ongoing storm of hostility. Now she’s wondering if her response crossed a line.
Here’s The Original Post:





























The mother, who is now thirty four, discovered her ex-husband’s three year affair only after they already had three very young children together. She kicked him out immediately and filed for divorce.
He moved in with the affair partner, and together they launched a full-force custody bid, arguing that their new “two parent household” made them more stable. The court didn’t buy it. Custody landed at fifty fifty, and the bitterness lingered.
The ex remarried the affair partner so fast that the ink on the divorce decree was practically still wet. Since then, communication has been strained at best.
She keeps everything in a co parenting app and ignores texts or calls unless absolutely necessary. Face to face interactions, especially around their kids, are tense. Still, she tries to remain civil solely for their sake.
The kids themselves don’t enjoy being at their father’s house. They prefer their mother’s home and often struggle during the weeks they spend away. She has them in therapy to help them process the family fallout.
Their father refused therapy, choosing to explain things his own way, which led him to blurt out details about his cheating that they weren’t prepared for.
Their therapist had already warned him and the affair partner to stop pressuring the children to call her “mom” or variations of it.
The kids rejected that title, and the mother quietly celebrated that fact, though she never shared her feelings with them.
Then came Halloween. During a school event, the ex and his affair partner pulled her aside. They told her the affair partner is infertile and that they had been trying for years to have a baby.
They insisted it would “mean so much” if she would be kinder to her and help encourage bonding with the children. They said her infertility was painful and that she, as someone who got to be a mother, should show compassion. Their message was clear: they wanted sympathy.
Her response was not what they expected. She simply asked why they were telling her something that had nothing to do with her. The ex’s mood shifted instantly from pleading to furious.
He accused her of being cruel and disgusting for not offering sympathy to their “third parent.” She walked away to avoid a scene. Later that night, he sent multiple angry texts accusing her of insensitivity.
He even attempted to bring it up during a school meeting about one of the children. She documented everything and sent it to her attorney.
The conflict still hasn’t died down. His anger remains, and she now wonders if her reaction was too cold. She didn’t insult them or mock their situation.
She simply refused to participate emotionally in something that felt wildly inappropriate coming from them. She genuinely wants to know: was she wrong?
These are the responses from Reddit users:
Many readers didn’t hold back, pointing out how ridiculous it was for him to expect sympathy from the very person he betrayed.



























The overwhelming community verdict is clear: she is not the a h e. Sympathy is not an obligation, especially from someone deeply hurt by their actions.
Her ex and his affair partner chose to approach her with an emotional request that crossed personal boundaries and ignored the years of damage they caused. In the end, her response wasn’t cruel.
It was neutral, guarded, and appropriate for people who are not part of her emotional circle. They may want healing and acceptance, but healing takes accountability, not ambushes.










