Page 57 of Sebastian.

Tears gather in my eyes as I witness this betrayal. It's not just the physical act itself, but the sexuality and the intimacy—the raw connection between them—that cuts deep. How could he have allowed himself to cross this line, to be so consumed by lust that he would engage in such an intimate exchange with a dancer?

It’s almost comical how ironic it all is. The same man who once vilified Roxanne for her profession is now engaged in the very behavior he condemned. The hypocrisy of it all stings. Sebastian’s smug celebration at that club with Karl was a celebration of spurning Roxannebecause she used to be an escort. But here he is, on my screen, engaging with a stripper that I’m almost positive would engage in escort services if Sebastian had simply asked. How did his mind even let him do that? How was he not aware of how stupid it would make him look, getting a lap dance as a way to reward himself for refusing to witness his son marry a former madam?

With a heavy heart, I wipe away my tears and take a deep breath. The show is over, and Sebastian is on his feet again as he hands her a tip before leaving the room, but I feel horrible nonetheless. Now there are no more secrets, and no more unanswered questions. I know everything that he did with that stripper, and now I have to live with it. But at least it’s better than not knowing.Maybe.

The way I’m hurting right now is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined, so maybe I’m wrong and blissful ignorance would have been the better choice. It’s too late now, though.

A surge of loneliness hits me out of nowhere, so strong that it takes my breath away. I don’t want to be by myself, and there’s only one other person in this home right now that I can call. Feeling a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and vulnerability—I dial my mom's number, my heart still aching from what I've just witnessed. She answers after a couple of rings, and I can hear the concern in her voice as she asks if everything is okay.

There is a lump in my throat that is so large that it’s hard to speak. “I just saw the video…” my voice’s trembling with the weight of my emotions. “The lap dance video….”

My mom senses the turmoil in my words, understanding what I’m referencing, and responds gently, “Oh, darling. I'm so sorry. Where are you right now?”

My throat tightens even more as I fight back tears. “In my bedroom.”

“I'll come up there.” She sounds so soothing and comforting. “Give me just one moment, love.”

Minutes later, there's a soft knock on my bedroom door, and Mom enters. She goes and sits down on the edge of my bed, smoothing out the duvet as she does so. Without a word, she wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace. It's the kind of hug that holds reassurance, love, and understanding all at once. In this moment, I'm grateful for her presence, for her ability to be here when I need her the most. Having her here right now confirms that I made the right choice coming back here to live during the separation and not a hotel. It would be hell to be by myself.

“Thank you for being here, Mom. Thank you.” I’m taller than my mother, but right now, I feel so small and being held by her makes me feel like a child, safe in her mother’s arms.

“Always, dear,” she whispers, stroking my hair. “You don't have to share this with anyone else. And certainly not with the kids.”

Her words bring a sense of relief. I hadn’t even considered sharing that horrible recording with any of the children, but she’s right. There’s no reason I should ever need to. I have her, and Gabi, who know the entire truth of the situation, and that will have to be enough. I can count on my mom to provide a place where I can be vulnerable without judgment or pressure.

Pulling out of the embrace, I exhale slowly. “He called me again today.” She looks surprised, but I continue, “He wanted me to give him a second chance…after everything he has done…” I chuckle, head shaking at his delusional request. “I'm not even sure I can face him without wanting to kill him. I thought I was angry about him missing the wedding, but this is an entirely different level of anger.”

With a gentle smile, she says, “We can always put off that meeting, Julia. Take all the time you need.”

As I lie back against the headboard again, I let my thoughts wander, contemplating the way men have continued to fail women in my family, over and over again. Not just us, either, but so many other women I know. It seems absurd that this is all so common. “I sometimes wonder if it's some kind of universal destiny for married women to be let down by their husbands. There’s so much cheating everywhere I turn that it almost becomes expected at this point.”

She ponders my words before responding, sliding closer to me on the bed so I can lay my head on her shoulder. “I'd like to believe there are men out there who don't follow that pattern. Maybe your son, maybe Alex…all we can do is hope that we’ve influenced them enough to be the best sort of men.”

I let out a humorless chuckle, a hint of bitterness lacing my voice. “Yeah, well, the jerk managed to fit quite the scandal into our son's wedding day. That asshole. It wasn’t enough to skip the wedding, he had to humiliate me in the process.”

My mom's tone shifts, becoming pragmatic as she addresses the practical matters at hand. “We've got the divorce agreement all set. It's up to you now whether to move forward with it or not.”

Sighing, I twist the sheets in my fingers restlessly. “I wish it were that easy, Mom.”

“It can be, dear. Just let Eveline handle it.”

“No, I don’t mean logistically. Emotionally. Even now I’m still not ready to make the call. I’m terrified that I’ll decide to leave him in a fit of anger or decide to take him back when I’m feeling nostalgic and then realize that I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“You don’t have to make that decision now, Julia. I just thought that knowing the option was available might bring you some comfort. But for now…” she slides off the bed, flipping the sheets up once she’s back on her feet, “you should get some rest. You’ve been through so much and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Her words resonate within me as I nestle under the sheets, seeking a sense of comfort. She tucks the sheets around me, her touch a soothing balm to my frayed emotions. Leaning in, she places a soft kiss on my forehead, just like when I was a little girl, her love palpable in the gesture. “Remember, no matter what, I love you, my sweet girl.”

Touched by her unwavering support, my voice is soft as I reply, “Thank you, Mom.”

With a final stroke of my hair, she stands to turn the lights off. “Good night, Jules.”

“Good night.”

18

Sebastian

Another week has dragged on,each day feeling like an eternity, and Julia’s silence continues to echo in my mind. Her promise to mull over my proposal hangs in the void, leaving me in a state of suspended anticipation. It's like living in a limbo of uncertainty, torn between wanting to contact her again to speed things up and letting her have her time and space so she can approach me when she’s ready.

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