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Mom’s gaze jerked from Dad to him, her eyes wide with surprise—and hurt. Dad said he didn’t flaunt his other women. Was this the first time she’d ever seen it up close and personal? Guilt wasn’t something Matt suffered from much, but he definitely felt it now when his mother looked so wounded.
“I guess you’ve never seen him out with one of his…” Matt stopped. He hated saying the word “mistress” to his mom.
“One of them?” Mom asked. “There have been others?”
Matt didn’t know how to reply to that. Because her question didn’t fit what Dad had told him.
“I…” he started, still stumbling over how to answer. In the end, he just said, “Yes.”
“And you knew,” she whispered.
Her words struck hard and deep—and he was left to wonder what was hurting her worse. Finding out that Dad was cheating on her or learning that Matt had been a silent witness to it all these years.
“Do you want to eat somewhere else?” he asked again, hoping to distract her.
Mom shook her head, taking one last look at Dad. “Actually, I have a bit of a headache. I think I’d like to go home.”
He nodded, guiding her back out of the restaurant, relieved at getting off so easy. For a second, he’d been concerned she would made a scene. They drove home in silence, his mother looking resolutely out the passenger-side window.
When Matt pulled up to the house, he put the car in park but didn’t turn off the engine. “You need me to come inside with you?”
Mom shook her head. “No.” She glanced down as if just now realizing she was still holding his birthday gift. “Here,” she said, handing him the package. “I want you to have this.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking it, though he made no move to open it. “You sure you’re okay?”
Mom nodded.
“Sorry tonight didn’t work out.”
Mom looked at him for a long time. Too long. Matt waited for her pain to morph into something scarier, darker. He was no stranger to her depression, to those times when she seemed to go blank. It always felt like she was going away somewhere in her head, but tonight, none of that was there.
In truth, she almost looked at peace. It should have set his mind at ease, but instead…it terrified him.
“Mom…”
“You know who you are, Matt,” she whispered.
Her words took Matt back to the day he’d given her the sketchbook and said he didn’t want to draw with her anymore.
“I’m a…” He didn’t finish, couldn’t.
She gave him a sad smile, then cupped his cheek. “Look deeper.”
Before he could offer any reply, she closed the car door and walked inside.
Matt drove home, inundated with too many conflicting thoughts and feelings. Dad had sworn Mom knew about his cheating and turned a blind eye because, as his father like to say, women were simple creatures. Buy them a piece of jewelry and they forget everything.
But…now…
She hadn’t known about the infidelity, and it had hurt her. Badly. Just as Matt’s knowledge about it had.
When he got home, he went to his office, determined to turn off the heavy thoughts and get some work done, but he couldn’t ignore the little voice in the back of his head that said something was very, very wrong.
So, after an hour, he climbed back into his car and drove back to his parents’ house. His dad was in his office, smoking a cigar and drinking bourbon. He looked up in surprise when Matt walked in.
“Late for a visit,” Dad said.
“Have you been home long?” he asked.
