Hidden Moral Stories

My Husband Said His Nashville Trip Was for Work—But When I Found Him Kissing My Best Friend on the Plane, I Sent a Box to Seats 2A and 2B; Then My Mother’s Sealed Letter Made Me Wonder How Many Years the People I Trusted Had Been Hiding the Truth

Part 2 of 3

She had only stirred her coffee and replied, “People can hide a lot inside a routine.”

I had thought she meant work stress. Now I wondered how many clues I had brushed aside.

Harold was waiting near the hospital reception desk. He stood when I came in and embraced me gently.

“What happened?” I asked.

He hesitated. “Your mother called me over. I found her sitting on the kitchen floor with her phone in her hand. She kept saying she had waited too long.”

“Waited too long for what?”

“I don’t know.”

Mark and Paige came through the automatic doors behind me. Harold glanced at them, then looked at Mark.

“So you came.”

I turned to him. “You knew Mark was coming?”

“Your mother told me.”

For a moment, I felt as if everyone had been given a part in a conversation I hadn’t even known was happening.

Mom was in a hospital room on the third floor. She looked smaller in the bed than she did at home, where she was always busy tending her garden or bringing books back from the library. When I went to her, she reached for my hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

Her eyes moved toward the doorway, where Mark and Paige stood behind me.

“You saw them.”

I felt my chest tighten. “You knew?”

She nodded.

“How long?”

“About six weeks.”

I looked at Mark. “How long has it been going on?”

He lowered his eyes. “Seven months.”

The number seemed to tilt the room. Paige began to cry, but I couldn’t make myself care.

“You told me you and Scott were trying to work things out,” I said to her.

“I lied.”

“You seem to have had practice.”

Mom squeezed my fingers. “Please, Natalie. You need to hear everything.”

She told me that she had seen Mark and Paige leaving a restaurant together in Nashville six weeks earlier. She had confronted Mark and had asked him to tell me about the affair. He said he would, but he kept asking for more time.

Then Mom pointed toward my purse.

“The letter,” she said. “Open it.”

Inside were several handwritten pages. The first began with an apology, followed by a line that made my throat tighten: I thought I was protecting you. Instead, I protected a lie.

I looked up. “What lie?”

Mom’s gaze shifted between Mark and Paige. Paige was trembling, and I understood that she hadn’t started shaking only when I caught them on the plane.

“What do you know?” I asked her.

She looked at Mom.

“Tell her,” Mom whispered.

Paige’s voice broke. “Your mother called me yesterday. She asked me to come to Nashville with Mark.”

“Why would she ask the woman having an affair with her son-in-law to travel with him?”

No one answered at first. Mom’s eyes filled with tears.

“The first thing you need to understand,” she said, “is that this didn’t begin seven months ago.”

What My Mother Had Known

I wanted to leave the room. I had come all this way because I was afraid for my mother, and now I was discovering that what she had to tell me might reach backward and rearrange years of my life.

Mom touched the back of my hand.

“Your father suspected Mark was unfaithful years ago.”

I stared at her. “When?”

“Nine years ago.”

Our oldest, Jack, had been seven. Wesley was four, and Emma hadn’t been born yet.

Mom explained that my father had seen Mark with a coworker during a conference. Mark admitted it when I asked him. He said the relationship had lasted a few weeks.

“You told me Paige was the first,” I said.

“I know.”

“So you lied about the lie while explaining the lie.”

He lowered his head. I turned back to Mom.

“What did Dad do?”

“He confronted Mark and wanted to tell you.”

“And you stopped him?”

Mom nodded. I waited for an explanation, though I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

“You were pregnant with Emma,” she said. “You’d had complications, and your doctor wanted you to avoid stress. I begged your father to wait until she was born.”

But six weeks after Emma arrived, my father had suffered a serious stroke and never woke again. Mom kept the secret, telling herself Mark had changed and that she was sparing me pain.

“So Dad knew and never got to tell me,” I said.

“Yes.”

Mom said that when she saw Mark with Paige, she understood how wrong she had been to stay quiet. She asked Mark to come to Nashville so she could tell me about my father’s discovery and give Mark a chance to confess before she did.

“And Paige?” I asked.

Mom had called her after learning who she was. She wanted her there because Paige was part of the truth, too.

I looked at her. “You knew all this, and you still kissed him on the plane?”

Paige’s face crumpled.

“I loved him,” she said.

The past tense stung. “Did you love me?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t do this to someone you love.”

“I know.” She wiped her cheeks. “Scott and I were falling apart. Mark said he felt disconnected from you, and we started talking. I told myself I was lonely. It wasn’t a reason, but it’s what I used to excuse it.”

Mark stepped forward.

“Don’t put all of this on her. I started it.”

I looked at him. “There’s plenty for you to carry.”

He admitted that he had called Paige first and suggested they meet. He said he thought our marriage was over, but when I asked whether he had told me that, he said no. When I asked whether he had tried to leave, he said no.

“Then our marriage wasn’t over,” I said. “You were having an affair.”

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