I decided to catch up on housework because I had a rare day off from work.

With our fourteen-year-old son, Jake, in school and my husband, David, at work, our cozy suburban home was strangely quiet. Since David travels frequently for work, I am the one who handles most of the parenting. Although it wasn’t easy, I had become accustomed to it because it was our reality.

Upon folding the wash, I realized how rote my days had become. I moved from one piece of work to the next with ease. My daily tasks included cleaning, cooking, and laundry. It was the same today.

I went to the kitchen to begin making dinner after filling the washing machine. By the look of the clock, it was only 2 p.m. Before David and Jake got home, I had a few hours.

I decided to start with Jake’s room. It seemed as though someone had driven a tornado through it. His desk was piled high with books and papers, and clothes were all over the place. I shook my head and laughed. “A normal teenage,” I thought to me.

I began by gathering up the soiled clothing and placing it in the laundry basket. The closet door was slightly ajar as I picked my way through the trash. I opened it and found a variety of items strewn all over the floor. A small, worn-out piggy bank was located among the school projects and outdated toys.

I looked it over, intrigued. It had the weight of an empty piggy bank.
“What’s contained here?” I pondered. I turned it over mindlessly, trying to figure out how to open it. My hands slipped as I struggled with it, and the piggy bank hit the floor loudly.

“Oh no!” was my cry as the pottery broke into pieces. While bending over to collect the pieces, I noticed an odd sight. A number of hundred-dollar bills were scattered amid the broken pieces. My eyes grew wide with disgust. “From where did this originate?” I muttered.

I took great care to gather the cash, which was at least $1,000. My head was full of inquiries. We never gave Jake this much money, and he never had it before. Something else caught my eye as I started gathering up the money: a small pile of pictures.

I took up the images and flipped through them. Each one depicted David with different women in different settings.

My hands trembled, and I experienced a rush of nausea. “What is this?” I mumbled. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. It seemed like my world was collapsing around me.

Right then, I heard the front door open. “Mom, I’m home!” Jake called out. I hurriedly collected the images and money and concealed them under a mound of garments. I needed to talk to Jake, but first I had to gather my thoughts.

I took a big breath and stepped out to welcome him. “Hello, sweetheart.” “How was school?” I inquired, attempting to keep my voice steady.

“Same old, same old,” Jake said, dumping his backpack near the door. He stared at me with a frown. “Are you okay, Mom?” “You look pale.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a bit tired from all the cleaning.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, attempting to appear cool. “Yes, it was a long day.” Why don’t you go and finish your homework? Dinner will be ready shortly.

Jake shrugged and went to his room. I watched him leave, my head still reeling from what I’d discovered. I realized I couldn’t keep this to myself. I needed to find out the truth. But first, I had to find out how to confront Jake with what I had discovered in his piggy bank.

I returned to Jake’s room, my heart pounding. I pulled the photos and money from under the pile of clothes, staring at the images in disbelief. Now that I was looking at them in greater detail, I noticed there were at least ten photos, each one more damning than the last.

David’s familiar smile, the one that used to make me feel so loved, was now a cruel mockery. Each picture showed him with different women, holding them, kissing them. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks – my husband had another woman.

My perplexity swiftly evolved into horror. These were not random photos. The angles and distances appeared to have been taken by a private detective.
Why would Jake keep these? My stomach churned with fear and wrath. I felt nauseous. I needed answers now.

I summoned Jake downstairs, attempting to maintain a steady voice. “Jake, can you come here, please?”

He stood in the doorway, appearing intrigued. “What’s up, Mom?”

I held up the photos, my hand shaking. “Can you explain these?”

Jake’s face went pale. “Mom, I can explain…”

“Please do,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jake looked down, shuffling his feet. “I found out about Dad a few months ago. I followed him one day and saw him with another woman. I didn’t know what to do, so I kept following him, taking pictures. I didn’t want to believe it at first.”

My heart ached while I listened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jake groaned as tears welled up in his eyes. “I was scared, Mom.” I did not intend to hurt you. But then.. I faced dad. I showed him the photos and asked money to remain silent.

I looked at him, my head reeling. “You blackmailed your father?”

Jake nodded, humiliated. “Yes, he paid me off. I put the money in the piggy bank because I wasn’t sure what else to do with it.”

I felt a sense of betrayal come over me. Not only had David fooled me, but so had Jake. My own son is maintaining this horrific secret and utilizing it for money. I wasn’t sure who I was more outraged at: my husband for his infidelity or my son for his betrayal.

Tears rushed down my face. “Jake, how could you do this? “How could you keep this from me?”

Jake also started to cry. “I apologize, Mom. I believed I was protecting you.

I felt as if I was drowning. The weight of their betrayals proved too much to bear. I needed to regain control of my life. “Jake, go into your room. “I need to think.”

As he went away, I felt both heartbroken and angry. I loved my son, yet his actions greatly pained me. I could not stay in this marriage. I needed to do what was best for myself.

The next morning, I contacted a lawyer and began the divorce proceedings. It was the most difficult decision I’d ever taken, but I was confident it was the right one.
I couldn’t be with a man who had betrayed me so badly. I needed to move forward, even if it meant starting over.

A few days later, David came home from one of his trips. I confronted him with the photos and the divorce papers. “It’s over, David. I know everything.”

David looked sh 0cked, but he didn’t deny it. “I’m sorry, Marie. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for apologies,” I replied, my voice cold. “I’m done.”

The worst blow came when Jake decided to live with David. “I want to be with Dad,” he replied, avoiding my eyes.

I felt my heart break all over again. “Why, Jake?” “After everything?”

“I just…” I cannot stay here, Mom. “I am sorry.”

As they packed up their belongings and went, I stood alone in the empty house, feeling abandoned and deceived. But deep inside, I felt I’d made the correct decision. I had to start over, for my own sake. And one day, I wished Jake could understand why I did what I did. Until then, I had to rely on my own strength and rebuild my life from the parts they had left behind.