"I think so."
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I stood up so quickly that my chair scraped loudly across the floor.
"Which floor?" I asked.
"Fourth," Daniella said. "I saw them take the elevator."
My hands were shaking as I ended the call.
This was the moment I had been waiting for.
But I needed Ethan there.
He had to see the truth with his own eyes.
So I called him.
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"Hi, Mom," he answered cheerfully.
"Ethan, could you drive me into the city?" I asked.
"Right now?"
"Yes. I urgently need to stop by a pharmacy."
He hesitated for a second.
"Of course. I'll be there in 20 minutes."
The ride into the city felt endless.
Ethan chatted casually while driving, completely unaware of the storm inside my head.
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"You've been quiet," he noticed at one point.
"I'm just tired," I replied softly.
When we reached downtown, I gave him directions that led us closer to the hotel.
Instead of pointing toward a pharmacy, I said, "Pull up near that hotel."
Ethan frowned but did not question me.
He parked the car along the curb and turned off the engine.
"Mom, why are we here?"
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"You'll see."
My heart was pounding as we stepped inside the building.
The hotel lobby was bright and elegant. The scent of polished wood and fresh flowers filled the air.
Ethan looked around, clearly confused.
"Are you meeting someone?" he asked.
"Come with me."
We walked toward the elevator.
He followed silently as the doors slid closed.
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Neither of us spoke during the ride up.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor with a quiet ding.
My legs felt weak as we stepped into the hallway.
It was long and carpeted, with soft lighting along the walls.
We walked down the corridor together.
He was staring at me now, completely lost.
I stopped in front of one of the doors.
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My hand trembled as I turned to face him.
"Your wife is in there," I said quietly. "With her lover."
His eyes widened.
For a split second, the hallway fell completely silent.
Before I could say another word, my son slammed his shoulder into the door.
It burst open.
And when we looked inside the room, we both froze, staring at the same thing.
My heart was beating so hard that I could hear it in my ears.
Ethan stepped inside first.
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I followed right behind him.
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner. Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains.
And then I saw her.
Victoria was standing near the bed, her back partially turned toward us. Her eyes widened the moment she noticed us.
"Ethan?" she gasped.
But it was not just her in the room.
A man stood a few feet away from her. Tall, broad-shouldered, and completely stunned by the sudden intrusion.
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My chest tightened.
For months, I had feared this moment would come. I had pictured the day the truth would finally reveal itself, and my son would see what I had been seeing all along.
Yet the reality felt heavier than I expected.
Ethan's voice came out low and confused.
"Victoria... what is going on?"
She looked from him to me and back again. Her face drained of color.
"Why are you here?"
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Ethan took another step forward.
"Answer the question."
The man in the room shifted awkwardly.
"I think I should go," he muttered.
"No," Ethan snapped, his voice suddenly sharp. "You stay right where you are."
The man froze.
Victoria ran a hand through her hair. For a moment, she looked like someone trying to think of the right lie.
My stomach turned.
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This was exactly what she had done before.
"Ethan," she began carefully, "this isn't what it looks like."
I almost laughed out loud.
It was the same sentence people always used when they were caught.
Ethan stared at her, his eyes full of disbelief.
"Then tell me what it is."
Victoria hesitated.
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I noticed her trembling hands.
Finally, she spoke.
"He's just a friend."
Ethan blinked slowly.
"A friend?" he repeated.
"Yes," she insisted. "We were just talking."
Ethan glanced at the bed, then back at her.
"In a hotel room?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
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I felt a mix of anger and sadness rising inside me.
For months, she had lied to my son.
And for months, he had believed every word.
"Victoria," I said quietly.
She turned to me, her eyes filled with frustration.
"You shouldn't have brought him here," she snapped.
That sentence hit Ethan like a slap.
His expression hardened.
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"You mean my own mother shouldn't show me the truth?" he asked.
Victoria crossed her arms defensively.
"There is no truth to show," she insisted.
Ethan let out a short, bitter laugh.
"Really?"
He turned toward the man in the room.
"What's your name?"
The man hesitated before answering.
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"Mark."
