I had a rare day off from work, so I decided to spend it catching up on housework.
Our comfortable suburban home was unusually quiet, with my husband, David, at work and our 14-year-old son, Jake, at school. David travels a lot for his profession, leaving me to manage the majority of the parenting on my own. It wasn’t easy, but it was our reality, and I’d gotten used to it.
As I folded the laundry, I reflected on how routine my days had gotten. I glided effortlessly from one work to the next. Laundry, cooking, and cleaning were all part of my everyday routine. Today was no different.
After loading the washing machine, I went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. The clock indicated it was only 2 p.m. I had a few hours before David and Jake would arrive home.
I chose to tackle Jake’s room next. It appeared as if a tornado had passed through it. Clothes were scattered about, and his desk was crowded with books and papers. I laughed and shook my head. “Typical teenager,” I said to myself.
I started by picking up the dirty clothes and throwing them in the laundry basket. As I made my way through the garbage, I noticed the closet door was slightly ajar. When I opened it, I discovered a variety of goods scattered across the floor. Among the old toys and school projects was a little, dusty piggy bank.
Curious, I examined it. It felt heavier than an empty piggy bank should.
“What’s in here?” I wondered. Without thinking, I turned it over, looking for a way to open it. As I fumbled with it, my hands slipped, and the piggy bank fell to the floor with a loud crash.
I exclaimed, “Oh no!” as the ceramic smashed into bits. As I knelt to pick up the fragments, I saw something peculiar. Several hundred-dollar bills could be found among the fragmented bits. My eyes widened in sh*ck. “Where did this come from?” I whispered.
I carefully gathered the money, which totaled at least a thousand dollars. My mind raced with questions. Jake never had this much money, and we didn’t give it to him. As I started to collect the cash, I discovered something else: a little stack of photos.
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.
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