My mom barely blinked.
She just stood there in the doorway, arms crossed like I’d interrupted something unimportant.
“What are you talking about?” she said coldly.
My chest was heaving.
“Jyll is gone,” I said. “She left. Took everything. Left a note telling me to ask you.”
For a split second…
Something flickered across her face.
Then it disappeared.
“I don’t know what kind of drama she’s trying to pull now,” she said, turning away. “Come back when you’re ready to talk like an adult.”
I stepped inside anyway.
“No,” I said. “We’re doing this now.”
The girls were still in the car.
Waiting.
Confused.
“You’ve never liked her,” I continued. “Ever since the beginning. So what did you say to her?”
My mom scoffed.
“I told her the truth.”
My stomach dropped.
“What truth?” I asked.
She turned back slowly.
“That those girls…” she said, nodding toward the driveway,
“might not even be yours.”
The words hit like a punch to the chest.
“That’s not funny,” I said.
“I’m not joking,” she replied calmly.
Everything inside me went cold.
“She came to me weeks ago,” my mom continued. “Asking questions. About your past. About timing.”
My heart started racing.
“And I told her what I know,” she added.
“What you think you know,” I snapped.
But she shook her head.
“No,” she said. “What I know.”
Silence.
“You remember that business trip?” she asked.
My mind scrambled.
Two years ago.
Out of state.
Three days.
“You were gone longer than you told her,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means you lied,” she cut in.
My hands clenched.
“I stayed an extra day,” I said. “Work stuff—”
“And you didn’t tell your wife,” she said flatly.
I hesitated.
That was all it took.
“She saw messages,” my mom added quietly.
My heart dropped.
Messages.
From a number I had deleted.
“It was nothing,” I said quickly. “It didn’t mean anything.”
But even as I said it…
I knew how it sounded.
My mom looked at me with something close to disappointment.
“She didn’t think so,” she said.
My throat tightened.
“She asked me if I believed the girls were yours,” my mom continued.
“And I told her… I wasn’t sure anymore.”
The room spun.
“You had no right,” I whispered.
“I had every right,” she shot back. “I wasn’t going to let her live a lie.”
A lie.
Or a doubt…
That never needed to exist.
I staggered back.
Because suddenly…
The note made sense.
“Don’t blame yourself.”
She thought I had betrayed her.
She thought our entire family was built on something broken.
I turned and walked out without another word.
Got into the car.
The girls looked at me.
“Is Mommy coming back?” Lily asked softly.
I gripped the steering wheel.
“I’m going to find her,” I said.
Because whatever my mistakes were…
I wasn’t going to let someone else destroy my family.
Not without the truth.
