I Thought My Dad Was Cheating on My Mom After My Graduation – but What He Was Really Hiding Left Me Speechless
After graduating, Chloe saw all the indications of betrayal in her father’s odd conduct. Visits to her best friend’s divorced mother, late nights, and covert phone conversations. It wasn’t an affair at all, though, when the facts eventually came to light. In reality, what was he concealing?
Graduation night was meant to be flawless.
There, on the third row, were my parents. Dad gave the greatest applause when I crossed the platform, and Mom started crying as soon as they shouted my name.
Afterward, with my tassel twisted and their arms encircling me like I was five years old, we snapped photos under the fairy lights.
“You did it, kiddo,” Dad said in my ear as he gave me a hard hug. Your mother and I am incredibly proud of you.”
Our family got along well. The kind that still gets together for dinner on weeknights and jokes about who can burn toast the worst. We all knew the truth, but Dad always claimed Mom did.
On Sunday mornings, we would chuckle about it while eating scrambled eggs, and everything seemed just fine.
However, soon following that night, I became aware of a difference.
I initially tried to ignore the minor issues. With his eyes fixed on the screen over breakfast, Dad began to check his phone more frequently.
To answer calls, he would go outdoors and speak in a low voice that I could barely hear through the window. His face would change when he returned inside after the 10 or fifteen minutes of the chats.
He once gave me this weird smile and said, “Just work stuff, sweetheart,” when I asked who it was. There’s nothing to be concerned about.
He works as an oncologist, which is a demanding profession. That made sense to me. Emergencies occur, and patients call at odd hours. But in some way, this felt different.
He appeared anxious, as if he had a burden he didn’t want to reveal.
The strange questions that made my stomach turn followed.
As he was brewing coffee one morning, he said in an almost casual manner, “Hey, honey, what’s her name again, your friend Lily’s mom? “The blond who wore the green gown to graduation?””Melissa,” I remarked as I filled my bowl with cereal. “Why are you asking?”
He shrugged and sipped his coffee, avoiding eye contact. “Oh, not much at all. She simply had a familiar appearance. I thought I might have seen her previously.
At the time, I didn’t give it any thought and returned to browsing my phone. However, when he brought her up again a few days later, it felt different.
He was feigning to read the newspaper while we sat at the kitchen table, but I could tell he was preparing for something.He glanced at me and folded the paper down just enough to inquire, “She’s divorced, right?”
I raised an eyebrow as I looked up. Indeed, she has been for the past two years or so. How are you even aware of that?
He grinned once more, with that apprehensive half smile he wears when he’s trying to hide something. “I believe you mentioned it once. I was just wondering.
However, I hadn’t brought it up. I didn’t believe I had, however.
And why would he remember even if I did? Why would he be interested in the marital status of my high school friend’s mother?
The alterations continued to accumulate like unwanted proof, and it didn’t end there.
He began working late more frequently, informing Mom via text that he would return home at approximately 10 p.m.
On certain evenings, he would return beyond 11 p.m. He also resumed using cologne. It was the same spicy, woodsy aroma he wore when he first started dating my mother, the one she claimed won her over all those years ago.
When he passed me in the hallway, I would smell it, and it made my chest tense with apprehension.
I was positive that the faint scent of floral perfume clinging to his shirt collar was not my mother’s when I once gave him a good-night embrace. This one was more expensive and sharper than hers, which typically smelled like warm vanilla.
My heart skipped a beat. Did he have an affair?
At that moment, I wanted to ask him about it, but the words were stuck in my throat. What if he was lying? What if he was honest with me? Which would hurt more? I couldn’t tell.
I began keeping a closer eye on him after that day, hoping to spot any clues. The way his phone made him smile. The manner in which he would exit the room upon receiving a text message. Mom didn’t appear to notice any of it, or perhaps she did and was just acting as like nothing was wrong.
On most evenings, I was unable to sleep. I would imagine talks I didn’t want to have and futures I didn’t want to face as I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Did families break up like this? Silently, slowly, with scent, cologne, and covert phone calls?
Then, one night, things became worse. When I heard him on the phone, I was passing his study when I noticed something about his voice. He seemed to be attempting to be kind to someone he truly cared about, but it was too nice.”Yes, I do understand,” he muttered. “I’ll come by tomorrow then.”
I pressed myself against the wall and held my breath during the interval.”No, don’t thank me,” he went on. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”
A beat skipped in my chest. You shouldn’t have spoken to a patient that way. You spoke to someone you cared about in that manner. Someone significant.
I sobbed into my pillow that night till my throat ached and my face was swollen. All the signs pointed to the contrary, but I wanted to think that my dad was still the man who loved Mom without conditions.
He declared he was taking a little business trip a few days later. Over supper, he said it nonchalantly, as if it were unimportant.”Where to go?” I inquired.Without taking his eyes off his dish, he remarked, “Just a medical conference a few towns over.” “I’ll be back tomorrow evening.”
Mom smiled at him and nodded as if nothing had happened. As if nothing were wrong with our world.
But I was at my breaking point. I have to be aware.
After waiting for him to leave the home the following morning, I took Mom’s car keys off the hanger beside the door. I started the engine with trembling hands. The whole time, I kept two cars behind him.
There was no conference center he drove to. He didn’t take a car to the downtown medical facility or the hospital. He crossed town to a peaceful district with tidy tiny houses with flower boxes in the windows and lanes lined with trees.
I recognized it instantly as he pulled up in front of a light yellow house with white shutters. It was the home of Lily’s mother. In high school, I had visited that place a dozen times.
He stepped out of his car, fixed his shirt, and approached the front door while I observed from down the street.
She opened the bell seconds after he rang it. Melissa. Her blonde hair was put back in a ponytail, and she wore trousers and a soft pink sweater.
When she saw him, she grinned and gave him a quick hug. The hug didn’t look welcoming. It was the kind of close that lingers a beat too long. He put his hand on her back and she put her arms around his shoulders.
My vision became so blurry at that moment that I could hardly see.
Could he? How could he harm Mom in this way? To us?
Before he could see me, I drove home, my head spinning with uncertainty and rage.
Upon returning, I immediately went to my room and secured the door. I was unable to face Mom. I couldn’t act as though everything was fine when it was obviously not.
The next night he returned as if nothing had happened. I overheard him telling Mom in the kitchen that he was exhausted from the conference.
All I wanted to do was go downstairs and tell Mom everything. But what could I possibly say? That I went after him? That like a paranoid detective, I spied on him?
I stayed away from him entirely for two days.
I had dinner after he retired to his studies and breakfast before he woke up. I responded to his attempts at conversation with one word and walked out of the room. I didn’t care that I could see the bewilderment in his eyes.
At last, one afternoon while Mom was out grocery shopping, he cornered me in the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway, obstructing my escape, as I was brewing tea.”What’s going on, Chloe?” he inquired softly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
I held my mug so tightly that my knuckles went white. “Dad, are you seeing someone else?”
His face turned white. “What?””I saw you,” I said. “At Lily’s residence. with her mother. I witnessed everything because I followed you. Don’t tell me lies.”
He seemed to be struggling to find the appropriate words as he looked at me for several minutes.
At last, he whispered, “Chloe, you don’t understand what you saw.”Then explain it to me!” I yelled, tears now flowing down my cheeks. “Tell me why you’re skulking to visit her. Describe the falsehoods, the covert phone calls, and the perfume on your clothing.
I resisted his attempt to grab my arm. “Sweetheart, please, just let me tell you—”I blurted out, “I don’t want to hear it,” and hurried passed him in the direction of the stairs. “I can’t believe you’d do this to Mom.”
I shut myself in my room and cried till my eyes were dry. His footsteps slowly faded down the hallway, but for a while I could hear him standing outside my door.
The front door was knocked on the following afternoon. Dad spent a few hours at the hospital, and Mom had gone to her book club. I thought about not responding, but the knocking continued, softly yet firmly.
I was immobile when I eventually opened the door.
Melissa’s eyes were red and swollen, as if she had been sobbing, and she was holding a wicker basket of muffins. She had a more delicate appearance than I had previously noticed, and she was thinner than I had remembered.With a small tremble in her voice, she inquired, “Is your dad home?”
Despite my trembling palms, I tried to look tough by folding my arms across my chest. “Why do you need him?”
She gave a small smile. “Because I owe him my life.”I said, “What are you talking about?”
She inhaled shakily, and I saw that her hands were shaking as well. “Your father noticed a mole on my back at your graduation. Remember that green dress with no straps? It didn’t look right, he said after pulling me away. To be honest, I thought he was acting strangely. Even a bit out of place.
She used the back of her palm to dab at her eyes. However, he suggested that I had a dermatologist examine it. I was afraid of how serious he was about it. I thought he was overreacting, but I nevertheless scheduled an appointment.
My heart began to race, but this time it was for a totally different cause.Her voice broke as she went on, “It turned out to be melanoma.” Skin cancer. Phase two. It might have spread if I had waited even a few more months. “Catching it when we did probably saved my life,” the doctors stated.
Oh my… It pondered. Dad, you
I was unable to speak.”Your dad accompanied me to all of my appointments,” she remarked, her eyes now streaming freely. “Every consultation, every biopsy, and every session for treatment planning. I had no one else, and I was terrified.
Lily is away at college, and my ex-husband wasn’t present. I was alone myself when your father suddenly appeared. When I was scared, he held my hand. He gave me clear explanations of everything the other physicians had mentioned.
Her voice became hardly audible. “He did attend a conference that morning, even though you didn’t think he did. However, he came to see me before he left town to make sure I was well enough to begin therapy. After that, he went directly to the conference. I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for him.”
I heard Dad’s car arrive into the driveway at that very time. His look instantly softened when he approached and noticed Melissa standing with me.He said softly, “Hey.” “You didn’t have to come all this way.”
Despite her tears, she laughed. “Yes, I did. Your daughter had to understand the nature of her father.
I was no longer able to contain it. Dad put his arms around me and held me close as I sobbed into his shoulder as I started crying out there on the porch.I repeatedly said in a whisper, “I’m so sorry.” “Dad, I really apologize.
I believed you to be—”He caressed my hair and whispered, “It’s okay, baby. “I understand. You were defending your mother. That is just what I adore about you. You defend the people you care about and are fierce and devoted.”
I sobbed as I told Mom everything after Melissa departed. With my hands in hers, she set me down on the couch and gave me a calm, knowing smile.”Oh,” she murmured quietly, “honey.” “Your father informed me right away. He simply didn’t want to disturb Melissa’s privacy or frighten people until we were certain she would be alright.”
Did she know? I pondered.
Although I felt foolish, I was also immensely appreciative.
Melissa sent us a thank-you note with a picture inside a month later. It featured Mom and my dad laughing at something off-camera while they were in the hospital. She appeared worn out yet optimistic, with a bright scarf wrapped around her head.
“To the doctor who noticed what everyone else missed,” was the little message that was enclosed. Always appreciative.
My dad, who taught me how to ride a bike, helped me with my homework, and made me feel safe, used to be my idol.
As it happens, he is a hero to everyone. And I’d never felt more proud to be his daughter.
