“If my son is cheating on you, I will go with you to find out, but first I want to see it with my own eyes.” That was what my mother in law, Gertrude, told me after reading the crumpled receipt that I had just taken out of my husband’s jacket pocket.
Until that afternoon, I would have bet everything I had that Liam would never be unfaithful to me. We had been married for ten years, had two children, a house we were still paying off with a mortgage, and the kind of marriage that seemed peaceful from the outside. I had met Liam when he could barely afford gas for his old car, so we grew up together, saved every penny, spent sleepless nights with our sick children, and celebrated each of his promotions as a victory for both of us.
That was why, when I found that piece of paper while I was sorting the clothes to wash, at first I thought it was just an ordinary receipt. It was not, because it said “Starlight Inn”, showing an entry at 12:40, departure at 14:25, and a room for two hours costing sixty two dollars.
That same day, at 12:37, Liam had sent me a text message saying, “I am going to lunch with a client, so do not wait up for me.”
I stood in front of the washing machine with the receipt between my fingers, and I did not scream. I went straight to the kitchen, where Gertrude was preparing the food. She was living with us temporarily because she was recovering from a blood pressure problem, and while she had always been a strict and traditional woman, she was never unfair to me, treating me more like a daughter than a daughter in law for ten years.
I put the receipt on the table and said, “I found it in Liam’s jacket.”
Gertrude put on her glasses, read it, read it again, and her face changed completely. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.
“He said today that he had a meeting,” I answered softly.
My mother in law turned off the stove and said, “Give me five minutes.”
“What for?” I asked her.
“To go with you,” she replied firmly.
The motel was about forty minutes away in the quiet suburb of Riverside. During the drive, neither of us spoke much, while my hands were freezing and Gertrude stared out the window with her jaw clenched.
Upon arrival, I showed the receipt at reception and asked if my husband had returned that afternoon. The employee avoided looking at me, which was enough of an answer. After some persistence, we discovered that he was in room 307.
We went up, and before I knocked, I heard a woman laughing, followed by Liam’s voice, which made me feel something inside me break.
I knocked on the door and shouted, “Liam!”
There was silence, followed by hurried noise inside. The door opened just a few centimeters, and my husband showed up disheveled with his shirt buttoned wrong. When he saw his mother behind me, he completely lost his color and whispered, “Nora…”
I pushed the door far enough to get inside while Gertrude began to complain to him loudly. I could barely hear her because in a corner of the room, desperately trying to adjust her dress, was the woman with whom my husband had just cheated on me. When she raised her face, I had to hold onto the wall because I knew her perfectly, having bought her that same dress for her birthday.
Gertrude tried to turn towards her, but I reacted immediately and grabbed her arm. “Mom, let us go,” I urged her.
“No, I want to see who that woman is!” Gertrude insisted.
“Please, not now,” I begged, knowing my mother in law had heart problems, and knowing that discovering the identity of that woman could hurt her much more than discovering her son’s infidelity.
My husband’s mistress was not a stranger, but rather Maya, the young woman whom our whole family had treated for years as a younger cousin. That night I understood that the adultery was just the beginning, and I could not imagine what would happen when everyone found out who was really inside that room.
PART 2
All the way back, Gertrude kept asking me why I had taken her out so quickly. “Did you know her?” she asked me repeatedly.
“Mom, you are very upset, so we will talk tomorrow,” I told her.
“Nora, I saw my son almost naked, so how do you expect me to calm down?” she demanded.
I did not have the courage to tell her inside a car. Maya was the adopted daughter of Wayne, Gertrude’s brother, and she was twenty three years old, having practically grown up within the family. Since she was a teenager, she had spent weekends at our house, played with my children, and called me cousin with an affection that now made my stomach churn. I had helped her myself when she started university, gave her clothes as gifts, lent her money, and even defended her when some family members criticized her for still being financially dependent on her parents.
I did not sleep that night, and Liam did not return either. The next morning he appeared around nine o’clock, finding Gertrude sitting in the living room next to George, my father in law, while I remained standing by the kitchen.
Liam entered with his head down and said, “Mom, I can explain.”
“Explain to me how a married man ends up in a motel while his wife washes their children’s clothes,” Gertrude replied coldly.
“It was a mistake,” Liam insisted.
“An error of almost two hours?” Gertrude asked him.
He looked at me and said, “Nora, I swear it does not mean anything.”
That phrase hurt me even more, because if it meant nothing, then I had wasted ten years for something that meant nothing.
Before I could answer, someone banged on the door so hard that we all turned around. It was Wayne, and behind him came his wife, Brenda, and Maya.
Wayne stormed in, furious, and shouted, “I want to know what you did to my daughter!”
Gertrude was confused and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Maya arrived last night crying, saying that Liam took advantage of her, that he pressured her, and that she was afraid to say anything because you all always defend him,” Wayne claimed angrily.
I looked at Liam, who jerked his head up and shouted, “That is a lie!”
Brenda hugged Maya and said, “My daughter is a young girl, while he is a married man of thirty six who knew perfectly well what he was doing.”
Gertrude put a hand to her chest, looked at Maya, then at me, and finally understood why I had taken her out of the motel. “Was that you?” she asked in shock.
Maya burst into tears and cried, “Aunt…”
Gertrude had to sit down, and for a few seconds nobody spoke, until Maya surprised her own parents by saying, “Liam did not force me.”
Brenda turned towards her and asked, “What?”
“I looked for him too,” Maya confessed softly, revealing that the relationship had lasted more than a year.
It had been one year of her having dinner at my table, hugging my children, and receiving gifts from me.
