I staggered to my feet and stumbled out of the ICU. The corridor was empty, bathed in the harsh, sterile light of the hospital. I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, burying my face in my knees. For thirty years, I had believed my affair eighteen years ago was the greatest sin of my life, a debt I would spend my remaining years repaying. But now I knew that was just an aftershock, a cruel, ironic echo. The original sin had been committed before the story even began, before the wedding march played. And I, the sinner, had lived in blissful ignorance, stealing twenty-eight years of Michael’s life.
I do not know how long I sat there before someone sat down next to me. It was Sarah. She gently put an arm around my shoulders.
“Mom. Jake told me everything.”
Her voice was soft.
“He said that no matter what the blood test says, you will always be his only mother, and Dad will always be his only father.”
I looked up at her young, sad face.
“Sarah… don’t you hate me?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Hate won’t change anything. Jake needs you both. Noah needs his grandparents. Mom, some things can’t be undone, but we can still choose how we face the future.”
Her words were a lifeline, but I could not grasp them. Did I deserve it? Did I still have the right to be Jake’s mother? To be Noah’s grandmother?
Two days later, Jake was moved to a regular room. Michael stayed by his side constantly. He spoke to no one unless absolutely necessary, especially not me. He looked at me as if I were a stranger. No, worse than a stranger. As if I were the person who had betrayed his entire world. I brought meals and clean clothes to the hospital every day, but I only lingered outside the room, sometimes peering through the small glass window. I would see Michael sitting by the bed, holding Jake’s hand, the two of them talking in low voices. I could not hear what they were saying, but I could see the tears on Jake’s face and Michael’s red-rimmed eyes as he tried to remain composed. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking scene, a father and a son whose bond was deeper than blood. And I was the one who had nearly destroyed it all.
A week later, Jake was discharged. We did not go back to our house. We went to Jake and Sarah’s place in Chicago. They gave the master bedroom to Jake so he could recover, while Michael and I were put in the guest room. We were under the same roof, but a thousand miles apart.
That night, I heard a noise on the balcony. I pushed open the sliding door and saw Michael standing there, a cigarette glowing in his hand, looking out at the city lights. He had quit smoking over a decade ago.
“Michael.”
I said it softly.
He did not turn around. He just took a long drag from the cigarette and slowly exhaled.
“Susan, I’ve been thinking.”
His voice was unnervingly calm.
“I wanted to hate you. I wanted to kill you. I wanted to burn everything down and end it all.”
My heart clenched into a tight knot.
“But Jake said to me—”
He turned, the ember of the cigarette illuminating his face in the dark.
“Dad, for the last twenty-eight years, the love you gave me was real. And the love I gave you was real. That’s enough.”
The early winter wind blew, and I hugged myself against the chill, waiting for my sentence.
“So I’ve decided to let you go.”
Michael crushed the cigarette against the railing.
“And to let myself go, too.”
“Can we…”
I choked on the words.
“Can we go back?”
“Go back?”
He laughed, a sound hollowed out by exhaustion.
“Every single day of our past was built on a lie. There’s no going back, Susan.”
“Then what do we do?”
Michael was silent for a long time. In the distance, a train horn blew, long and lonely.
“Jake needs time to heal. Noah is still young. He needs a complete family.”
He spoke slowly.
