I’ve been with my fiancé for six years, and we were supposed to get married next month. But during a visit to my parents, something unexpected came to light that shook our relationship to its core.
We had gone to visit my parents, staying in my childhood room for a sense of nostalgia before the wedding. My fiancé, Adam, wanted to stay at a hotel, but I thought it would be fun to spend time at my old home one last time before becoming a married woman.
“I don’t see how staying at your parents’ house is going to change anything,” Adam said while we packed for the trip.
“Because it’s sentimental. It’s my last time under their roof before I’m officially married,” I replied with a smile.
“If it gets uncomfortable, I’m checking into a hotel,” he said casually.
I had no idea how prophetic that would be.
When we arrived, everyone was thrilled to see us. My mom and aunt had prepared an elaborate meal, and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. Dinner went smoothly, and Adam seemed to enjoy the attention from my extended family.
“This is new for me,” he said while helping with the dishes. “I’m not used to being the center of attention.”
“It’s a good thing,” I said, handing him a plate. “You’re supposed to feel welcome.”
That night, as we settled in, I noticed Adam tossing and turning. “What’s wrong?” I asked, turning toward him.
“I can’t sleep,” he muttered. “This bed is too lumpy, and I’m not used to sleeping in strange beds.”
“Take a walk outside,” I suggested sleepily. “The fresh air might help.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, getting up and leaving the room.
I was just drifting off again when I heard Adam’s scream echo through the house. I bolted upright, heart racing, wondering if we were in danger. Before I could even react, Adam stormed back into the room, his face pale with anger.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“Sasha, your mom—she’s in the foyer, kissing another man!” Adam shouted, his face contorted with shock and disbelief.
My heart sank. I had hoped this wouldn’t happen during our visit. I had always dreaded the moment when my parents’ unconventional marriage would come to light. I tried to calm Adam down, but he was too furious to listen.
“Call your dad! Tell him your mom is cheating right here in the house!” Adam demanded.
It seemed logical for him to think that confronting my dad would fix everything. But he didn’t know the full story.
Before I could explain, my mom walked in, still adjusting her clothes. “I can explain,” she began, but Adam cut her off.
“Explain what? You’re cheating on your husband!”
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