{"id":1831,"date":"2025-11-19T15:33:45","date_gmt":"2025-11-19T15:33:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/?p=1831"},"modified":"2025-11-19T15:33:45","modified_gmt":"2025-11-19T15:33:45","slug":"at-a-cafe-my-best-friends-5-year-old-son-saw-a-photo-of-my-husband-and-suddenly-exclaimed-thats-daddy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/?p=1831","title":{"rendered":"At a Caf\u00e9, My Best Friend\u2019s 5-Year-Old Son Saw a Photo of My Husband and Suddenly Exclaimed, \u2018That\u2019s Daddy!\u2019"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"l-shared-sec-outer show-mobile\">\n<div class=\"l-shared-sec\">\n<div class=\"l-shared-items effect-fadeout is-color\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"attachment-foxiz_crop_o1 size-foxiz_crop_o1 wp-post-image\" style=\"font-size: 1rem;\" src=\"https:\/\/deep-usa.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/11\/aHR0cHM6Ly9jZG4uYW1vbWFtYS5jb20vNjMzZGI4Y2U4ZTdmNDE2OTViM2NlOWY5NGI5OWI2NDBjMjJmYWU0Mzg5Zjk4ZDc0YTI4MDI4OGNhNWQ3NjQ1Yy5qcGc-860x430.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"860\" height=\"430\" \/><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"e-ct-outer\">\n<div class=\"entry-content rbct clearfix is-highlight-shares\">\n<div class=\"code-block code-block-10\">\n<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-66e2b066 default-scheme elementor-widget elementor-widget-foxiz-single-meta-bar\" data-id=\"66e2b066\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"foxiz-single-meta-bar.default\">\n<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n<div class=\"single-meta meta-s-default yes-wrap is-meta-author-color yes-border\">\n<div class=\"smeta-in\">\n<div class=\"smeta-sec\">\n<div class=\"p-meta\">\n<div class=\"meta-inner is-meta\">\n<div class=\"meta-el meta-like loaded\" data-like=\"18663\"><span style=\"font-size: 1rem;\">When Brielle reunites with her best friend for a carefree day out, a single moment shatters the fragile illusion of her marriage. As old secrets claw their way to the surface, Brielle must confront the truth hidden behind smiles, silence, and years of trust. What she discovers changes everything\u2026<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-28f29ddc yes-wide-f elementor-widget-theme-post-content default-scheme elementor-widget elementor-widget-foxiz-single-content\" data-id=\"28f29ddc\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"foxiz-single-content.default\">\n<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n<div class=\"s-ct-wrap has-lsl\">\n<div class=\"s-ct-inner\">\n<div class=\"e-ct-outer\">\n<div class=\"entry-content rbct clearfix is-highlight-shares\">\n<p>and she\u2019s not going down quietly.<\/p>\n<div class=\"code-block code-block-7\">\n<div id=\"deep-usa.com_responsive_3\" data-google-query-id=\"\">\n<div id=\"google_ads_iframe_\/23207117756\/deep-usa.com\/deep-usa.com_responsive_3_0__container__\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>I hadn\u2019t seen Nancy in five years.<\/p>\n<p>Not in person, anyway. We\u2019d done what old friends do, held on with birthday texts, late-night memes, and a couple of Zoom calls when life felt especially lonely.<\/p>\n<p>But we used to be\u00a0<i>close<\/i>. Like college roommate close, like finish-each-other\u2019s-ramen close.<\/p>\n<div class=\"code-block code-block-8\">\n<div id=\"deep-usa.com_responsive_4\" data-google-query-id=\"\">\n<div id=\"google_ads_iframe_\/23207117756\/deep-usa.com\/deep-usa.com_responsive_4_0__container__\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>But somewhere between her new job in another state and my life with my husband, Spencer, and our six-year-old daughter, Olive, life just got\u00a0<i>busy<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>So, when Nancy messaged to say that she\u2019d be in town for a training seminar and wanted to meet up, I felt that kind of fuzzy warmth that only old friendships can stir.<\/p>\n<p>I immediately suggested a Saturday adventure, our kids could meet, and we\u2019d get that long-overdue catch-up that we needed.<\/p>\n<p>Nancy agreed without hesitation.<\/p>\n<p>Olive was buzzing with excitement about us going to the local amusement park.<\/p>\n<p>I smiled, watching her skip ahead, her curls bouncing behind her. Nancy arrived just minutes after we did, a little breathless but glowing in that effortless way she always had. She held Connor\u2019s hand gently, guiding him through the turnstile.<\/p>\n<p>He was five years old, with big brown eyes, and a dimple that showed only when he was\u00a0<i>truly\u00a0<\/i>delighted.<\/p>\n<p>Olive reached for his hand without hesitation.<\/p>\n<p>They didn\u2019t speak, they just looked at each other like they were picking up where something had left off. It struck me in a small, unexpected way\u2026 how easy it was for children to connect, to trust, to just\u00a0<i>be<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>We spent the day moving from ride to ride, snapping silly photos, and buying overpriced snacks that somehow tasted better just because we were together and laughing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m so glad we did this, Brielle,\u201d Nancy sighed happily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve been wanting to get the kids together for\u00a0<i>so<\/i>\u00a0long!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Nancy and I fell into old rhythms with surprising ease, side glances and snorts of laughter, recalling dorm room disasters, inside jokes, and the ridiculous boyfriends we should\u2019ve left on read.<\/p>\n<p><i>Everything felt safe and familiar.<\/i><\/p>\n<p>Afterward, we stopped at a corner caf\u00e9 I loved. It was cozy, with exposed brick and a dessert menu that made adults giddy. The kids shared a banana split while Nancy and I sipped lavender lattes and marveled, quietly,\u00a0<i>painfully<\/i>, how fast childhood moved.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"code-block code-block-6\">\n<div id=\"deep-usa.com_responsive_2\" data-google-query-id=\"\">\n<div id=\"google_ads_iframe_\/23207117756\/deep-usa.com\/deep-usa.com_responsive_2_0__container__\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p><i>And that\u2019s when it happened.<\/i><\/p>\n<p>I pulled out my phone to show her pictures from our recent hiking trip.<\/p>\n<div class=\"code-block code-block-7\">\n<div id=\"deep-usa.com_responsive_3\" data-google-query-id=\"\">\n<div id=\"google_ads_iframe_\/23207117756\/deep-usa.com\/deep-usa.com_responsive_3_0__container__\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>It was just the three of us, Spencer, Olive, and I, hiking through moss-covered forests and sunlit trails.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019d always loved the way Spencer looked outdoors: grounded and relaxed, like the version of himself he often forgot he\u00a0<i>could\u00a0<\/i>be.<\/p>\n<p>As I swiped to the next photo, Connor leaned closer, his mouth still sticky with chocolate sauce.<\/p>\n<div class=\"code-block code-block-8\">\n<div id=\"deep-usa.com_responsive_4\" data-google-query-id=\"\">\n<div id=\"google_ads_iframe_\/23207117756\/deep-usa.com\/deep-usa.com_responsive_4_0__container__\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s Daddy!\u201d he said happily, pointing to the screen.<\/p>\n<p>Nancy laughed too. But it was\u00a0<i>too<\/i>\u00a0loud and forced.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, sweetie,\u201d she said quickly, almost choking on the sip of latte that was in her mouth. \u201cThat\u2019s not\u00a0<i>your<\/i>\u00a0Daddy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She reached across the table and turned the phone away.<\/p>\n<p>Her nails were freshly painted, but she\u2019d chipped one of the index fingers. She almost pushed the cup of coffee off the table in her haste.<\/p>\n<p>I stared at it.<\/p>\n<p>Connor frowned, his small face pinching in confusion.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMom, it\u00a0<i>is<\/i>\u00a0Daddy! He came last week and brought me a teddy bear.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The air shifted between us.<\/p>\n<p>It was subtle, but there was a sharp undertone\u2026 like the first pressure drop before a storm.<\/p>\n<p>Nancy laughed again, but this time it faltered. Her voice cracked on the tail end, like she\u2019d run out of breath\u2026<\/p>\n<p>or lies.<\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t speak. My fingers moved slowly, almost automatically, scrolling back through the photo roll until I found a solo shot of my husband. He was standing at the summit of a trail, wind threading through his dark hair, a crooked smile curling across his face.<\/p>\n<p>I remembered that moment.<\/p>\n<p>I had taken the photo while Olive was throwing pebbles at his boots. It was one of those rare afternoons when things had felt\u2026\u00a0<i>uncomplicated<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>I turned the phone toward Connor.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs this him, honey?\u201d I asked softly, watching his eyes more than his answer.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs this your Daddy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBrielle,\u201d Nancy\u2019s hand reached out quickly.<\/p>\n<p>But Connor was already nodding, like it wasn\u2019t even a question to him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes! That\u2019s my Daddy!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Nancy\u2019s hand hovered in the space between us, limp and unsure. Her face collapsed inward, just for a moment, like something inside her folded.<\/p>\n<p>Then, as if summoned by shame, she looked down at her latte.<\/p>\n<p>She stared into the foam as though it might offer her a way out, or absolution, or at least something easier than this.<\/p>\n<p>I smiled, small and careful, and tucked the phone back into my purse. My voice came out even, too even.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShould we head home, guys?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Olive nodded at me and yawned, as if on cue.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, it\u2019s been a long day,\u201d Nancy said, nodding quickly.<\/p>\n<p>That night, after Olive drifted off with her stuffed dolphin tucked under one arm, I stepped into our walk-in closet and closed the door behind me. The darkness felt safe.<\/p>\n<p>I sat cross-legged on the carpet, the smell of fabric softener still clinging to the sleeves of Spencer\u2019s sweaters stacked neatly above me.<\/p>\n<p>I opened the family laptop that I\u2019d brought in with me and started digging.<\/p>\n<p>Spencer had always been careless with his digital footprint, never quite clearing his history or removing passwords.<\/p>\n<p>The Gmail account had been there all along, auto-saved on our laptop.<\/p>\n<p>Spencer must\u2019ve forgotten, or maybe he\u2019d gotten so confident that he stopped caring.<\/p>\n<p>My hands moved on instinct, like they already knew the truth and were just waiting for my mind to catch up.<\/p>\n<p>The inbox was a mess of labels and archives\u2026 but the evidence wasn\u2019t even buried.<\/p>\n<p>It was just\u2026\u00a0<i>sitting there<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>Moments later, I came across a full archive of messages, some deleted, others merely hidden beneath innocent subject lines. There were\u00a0<i>dozens<\/i>\u00a0of pictures.<\/p>\n<p>There were pictures of Spencer and Nancy,<i>\u00a0my husband and best friend<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>In some, they were at parks, restaurants, and hotel rooms. Sometimes laughing, sometimes kissing, and sometimes comfortable in bed, limbs tangled beneath rumpled sheets.<\/p>\n<p>And then there was sweet little Connor.<\/p>\n<p>He appeared in more photos than I expected, riding on Spencer\u2019s shoulders, holding his hand, asleep on his chest. Moments that looked so normal,\u00a0<i>so paternal,<\/i>\u00a0it made my stomach turn.<\/p>\n<p>I did the math.<\/p>\n<p>Connor was born eight months after Olive.<\/p>\n<p>Which meant\u2026<\/p>\n<p>while I was\u00a0<i>pregnant<\/i>, rubbing cocoa butter over my belly, dreaming of nursery colors and middle names, Spencer had been sleeping with Nancy.<\/p>\n<p>And\u00a0<i>she<\/i>\u00a0had been commenting on all my posts, sending baby clothes wrapped in pastel tissue paper, and acting like my joy was hers to share.<\/p>\n<p>I stared at the screen until my chest went numb. Not tight, not panicked, just numb, like my body knew it had to protect itself from going under.<\/p>\n<p>Spencer always told me his job required travel. Every other month, sometimes a week at a time.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019d never questioned it. I\u2019d kissed my husband goodbye at the airport, promising his favorite meals when he got back home. I always texted him goodnight.<\/p>\n<p>I always made sure that Olive said goodnight to him on FaceTime.<\/p>\n<p>But he wasn\u2019t flying for work. He was flying straight to\u2026\u00a0<i>Nancy<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t cry.<\/p>\n<p>I just closed the laptop slowly and sat on the carpet with my hands folded in my lap like a child waiting for punishment.\u00a0<i>But I wasn\u2019t the one who\u2019d done anything wrong.<\/i><\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t confront him that night. That would have been too easy.<\/p>\n<p>No, I wanted Spencer to\u00a0<i>feel<\/i>\u00a0my pain and humiliation\u2026 I needed him to hurt as much as I did.<\/p>\n<p>So, I planned.<\/p>\n<p>The next morning, I texted Nancy and suggested that we meet again for one last ice cream trip before she left town.<\/p>\n<p><i>\u201cThe kids seemed to really get along, Nancy! I want to have another series of moments that we can remember for a long time to come.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n<p>She replied almost instantly, telling me how happy she was that we could move past the awkward moment from the day before.<\/p>\n<p><i>\u201cKids say the weirdest things, don\u2019t they, Bri?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><\/i><i>But sure! We\u2019ll see you and Olive wherever you want.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n<p>I told her that I\u2019d make the reservation. I picked a caf\u00e9 known for its enormous sundaes and family-friendly booths.<\/p>\n<p>We arrived a little before noon.<\/p>\n<p>My sweet girl wore her sunhat with daisies. Connor arrived holding a toy truck. Nancy looked radiant, like nothing had fractured her perfect image.<\/p>\n<p>We chatted over waffles and whether strawberry toppings were worth their price.<\/p>\n<p>I made jokes. She laughed. It was almost\u00a0<i>too\u00a0<\/i>easy.<\/p>\n<p>But halfway through, I excused myself.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGive me a second,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI just need to run to the bathroom. Olive, stay with Aunt Nancy, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I slid into the bathroom and washed my face with cold water. Then, it was time.<\/p>\n<p>I took my phone out of my back pocket and phoned my husband.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSpencer, I\u2019m at the ice cream place with Olive. I\u2019m not feeling good, honey,\u201d I said the moment he picked up. \u201cPlease come get us.<\/p>\n<p>I don\u2019t feel right\u2026 I think I\u2019m going to pass out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m coming, sweetheart,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>He was there in under ten minutes.<\/p>\n<p>When he walked in, both Olive and Connor lit up.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaddy!\u201d they both shrieked.<\/p>\n<p>Nancy\u2019s hand flew to her mouth. Spencer froze, his keys still in his hand.<\/p>\n<p>The kids ran to him, each grabbing a leg.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaddy! Did you bring me a teddy again?\u201d Connor asked, looking up at Spencer.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not<i>\u00a0your<\/i>\u00a0daddy, Connor,\u201d Olive frowned. \u201cHe\u2019s mine!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Connor\u2019s brow furrowed, and his lower lip jutted out.<\/p>\n<p>He looked as though he were a few seconds away from crying.<\/p>\n<p>And me? I was already recording the entire scene.<\/p>\n<p>My husband\u2019s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His eyes flicked from me to Nancy.<\/p>\n<p>She stood slowly, her expression blank. She didn\u2019t say a word to me. She just grabbed Connor and left.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBrielle, I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow long?\u201d I asked simply.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow long, Spencer?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt was one mistake,\u201d he said. \u201cWe decided not to tell you. Nancy and I didn\u2019t want to disrupt Olive\u2019s life over a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I almost laughed.<\/p>\n<p>The absurdity of it all hit me in waves.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve seen the photos, Spencer,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ve seen how you\u2019ve spent your \u2018working weekends.\u2019 And, my goodness\u2026 in those photos\u2026<\/p>\n<p>the way you looked at Nancy, it was like I<i>\u00a0never<\/i>\u00a0existed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He blinked, stunned. His mouth opened slightly, but there was nothing behind it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt wasn\u2019t like that, Brielle,\u201d he said, too quickly, too softly, as if speed and softness could disguise the truth.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStop, Spencer,\u201d I said, gently but firmly. \u201c<i>Please.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i><\/i><i><\/i>Don\u2019t ruin this moment by lying again.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t raise my voice. I didn\u2019t cry. I didn\u2019t give him the performance he might have expected.<\/p>\n<p>I just walked past him, holding my daughter\u2019s tiny, sticky hand in mine.<\/p>\n<p>Outside the caf\u00e9, she looked up at me, her lips still shining with syrup, her eyes impossibly wide.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs Connor\u2019s daddy\u2026 my daddy too?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n<p>I stopped in my tracks and knelt in front of her, brushing her hair gently behind her ear.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, and no, sweetheart,\u201d I said. \u201cYou have your\u2026<\/p>\n<p>own daddy. And he loves you very much. But he made some big mistakes.<\/p>\n<p>And we\u2019re going to be okay. You and me, we\u2019re going to be just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded slowly, like she believed me. And maybe she did.<\/p>\n<p>Kids understand more than we ever give them credit for. They see what we miss. They hear the cracks in silence.<\/p>\n<p>Over the next three weeks, I moved with a kind of quiet precision that surprised even me.<\/p>\n<p>I hired a divorce attorney who specialized in asset tracing and hidden accounts.<\/p>\n<p>Spencer had been careless there, too.<\/p>\n<p>There was a joint account that funded the little fantasy life he built with Nancy. Their hotel stays, dinner reservations, and gifts that, in our years of marriage, I\u2019d\u00a0<i>never\u00a0<\/i>received.<\/p>\n<p>I froze the accounts. I gathered texts, emails, screenshots, timestamps, and everything else that I\u2019d need to build a picture that couldn\u2019t be refuted.<\/p>\n<p>By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late.<\/p>\n<p>Spencer came home one afternoon to collect his boxes.<\/p>\n<p>He stood in the doorway, a man completely unfamiliar to me.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy are you doing this, Brielle?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBecause I spent six years building a life you were willing to destroy in secret. Because I deserve peace and joy. Because I deserve<i>\u00a0trust.<\/i>\u00a0And because you thought I wouldn\u2019t find out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He stood there like someone who\u2019d just lost a game he never realized he was playing.<\/p>\n<p>Days later, Nancy finally texted me.<\/p>\n<p><i>\u201cI never meant to hurt you, Bri.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t reply.<\/p>\n<p>Instead, I wrote her a letter.<\/p>\n<p>Not for her but for me\u2026<\/p>\n<p>I told her how much it gutted me to know she had been at my baby shower, laughing with me, folding tiny bibs, helping me string paper lanterns, all while carrying the heaviest secret I never saw coming.<\/p>\n<p>I told her the betrayal wasn\u2019t just the affair, it was every birthday wish, every \u201chow\u2019s motherhood treating you?\u201d text, every \u201cmiss you\u201d that now rang cold and hollow.<\/p>\n<p>And then I wrote:<\/p>\n<p><i>\u201cI hope you become the mother and woman you want to be. But you are no longer welcome in my life. Ever.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n<p>I signed my name.<\/p>\n<p>I sealed the envelope and I mailed it without a return address.<\/p>\n<p>Sometimes, late at night, I look at Olive sleeping beside me, her breaths slow and steady. I think about how close I came to never knowing. If Connor hadn\u2019t pointed at that picture, how many more years would I have spent living inside a beautiful lie?<\/p>\n<p>But I don\u2019t live there anymore.<\/p>\n<p><i>I live in the truth now.<\/i>\u00a0And it\u2019s colder and lonely,\u00a0<i>yes<\/i>, but it\u2019s also clean and respectful.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When Brielle reunites with her best friend for a carefree day out, a single moment shatters the fragile illusion of her marriage. As old secrets claw their way to the &hellip; <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1832,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[20],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1831","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1831","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1831"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1831\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1833,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1831\/revisions\/1833"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1832"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1831"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1831"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1831"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}