My lover deserted me for the person I trusted the most—my own mother—and I believed the sorrow would shatter me. He thought he could betray me and go away without facing the consequences. What he didn’t realize was that I had no intention of letting him get away with it.
They say that no relationship is perfect, and I used to feel that Travis and I were no exception. Sure, we argued sometimes. Travis could be distant, condescending, and had the unfortunate habit of making everything about himself.
But I believed we had love. He used to bring me coffee in bed, exactly like I liked it, with a splash of oat milk and two sugars. He’d leave little sticky notes on the fridge with phrases like “You got this” or “Smile, today’s yours.”
And sometimes, as we lay in bed, he’d play a song on his phone and murmur, “This one reminds me of you.”
I convinced myself that love was about keeping on despite flaws.
We’d been living together for about a year.
I truly believed we were creating something substantial, something real. My mother, Linda, visited frequently. She constantly said she only wanted to help.
She’d bring homemade chicken soup, fold our laundry when I hadn’t finished it, and give me advise on topics I’d never asked for, like how to design the living room or cook rice without sticking. I appreciated it, really. At least, I used to.
I even felt lucky to have a mom who cared enough to be around.
Until that one awful afternoon. I left work early.
My head was pounding, and all I wanted was to lie down in the quiet and rest before making dinner.
But as soon as I stepped inside, I heard soft music playing in the living room, and voices—low, familiar voices.
I thought maybe Travis was watching TV.
Then I walked in and saw him. Travis was kissing my mother. His hands rested on her waist.
She was smiling. And my world broke in half.
“What the hell is going on?!” I shouted.
My voice cracked.
I had never heard myself that loud. My chest was tight. My hands were shaking.
Travis sighed.
He looked annoyed. Not guilty. Not sorry.
“Rachel, I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t even step back. He just stood there like this wasn’t a big deal.
Linda crossed her arms.
She tilted her head like I was a child throwing a fit.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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