Mom let me cry.
When I finally calmed down, she asked a question I hadn’t expected.
“Do you know where they’re staying?”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know how long this has been happening.”
Mom studied me for a moment.
“Then find out what you need to know. But don’t forget that you’re here because I need you, too.”
I nodded.
She was right.
I couldn’t allow Ryan’s betrayal to consume every part of my life.
But I also couldn’t return home pretending nothing had happened.
That evening, after Mom had eaten and settled down to rest, I called a friend who lived in Chicago and asked whether she could help me arrange transportation the following morning.
I had no plan to confront Ryan at a hotel.
Not yet.
I simply wanted the truth.
And I had a feeling that the truth was waiting somewhere nearby.
