Ethan nodded slowly.
"Mark," he repeated. "How long have you known my wife?"
Mark glanced at Victoria, clearly uncomfortable.
She shook her head slightly as if warning him not to say anything.
But the tension in the room was too heavy.
"A few months," he admitted.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
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"A few months," he echoed.
My son stood very still for a long moment.
Then he looked at Victoria again.
"A few months," he said quietly. "That lines up perfectly with all your late nights and strange excuses."
Victoria stepped closer to him.
"Ethan, please. Let's talk about this at home."
"No," he replied immediately. "We're talking about it right here."
His voice sounded different now.
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Stronger.
More certain.
For the first time in a long time, he was not blindly defending her.
He was finally looking at the situation for what it was.
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
"You're overreacting," she whispered.
Ethan shook his head slowly.
"On the contrary, I think I've been underreacting for years."
The room fell silent again.
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I could see the realization spreading across his face as different memories came together in his mind.
The late nights.
The secret phone calls.
The argument with Owen.
Suddenly, Ethan turned to me.
"Mom."
"Yes?"
"You knew, didn't you?"
I swallowed.
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"I suspected."
He looked down at the floor.
"I should have listened when Owen tried to warn me."
Hearing that name after so many years made my chest ache.
"Owen cared about you," I replied gently.
Ethan nodded slowly.
"I know that now."
Victoria wiped her cheeks angrily.
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"So that's it?" she asked. "You're just going to believe all of this?"
Ethan looked at her with tired eyes.
"I'm not believing someone else's words anymore. I'm believing what I can see."
Mark shifted awkwardly again.
"I really think I should go now," he said.
Ethan stepped aside and gestured toward the door.
"Go."
Mark wasted no time leaving the room.
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Victoria watched him disappear into the hallway.
Then she turned back to Ethan.
"You're making a mistake."
Ethan shook his head.
"No," he replied quietly. "The mistake was trusting someone who didn't deserve it."
For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue.
But the words never came.
Ethan walked past her toward the door.
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"Come on, Mom."
I followed him into the hallway.
Neither of us spoke until we reached the elevator.
When the doors closed, Ethan leaned against the wall and exhaled deeply.
"I feel like an idiot," he admitted.
"You're not," I said softly. "You loved your wife. That's not something to be ashamed of."
He looked at me.
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"I'm sorry, I didn't believe you before."
I placed a hand on his arm.
"You needed to see it yourself."
The elevator reached the lobby, and we stepped outside into the evening air.
For a few seconds, we simply stood there.
Then Ethan pulled out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
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"I'm calling someone I should have called years ago."
He scrolled through his contacts and pressed the call button.
After a moment, someone answered.
"Owen?" Ethan asked.
There was a pause.
Then Ethan spoke again, his voice thick with emotion.
"I owe you an apology."
