Like I had struck him with a blow. His face went pale, and for a moment, there was utter silence in the room. My mom’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief, her eyes darting between my dad and me.

“Cheating?” My mom’s voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed loudly in the tense atmosphere of the dining room.

I could feel the weight of my words hanging in the air, heavy and undeniable. My dad’s eyes darted around the room, searching for an explanation, a way to diffuse the situation. But there was no escaping the truth now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my dad spoke, his voice shaky with emotion. “It’s not what you think,” he began, but his words faltered, and he fell silent once more.

My mom’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned away, unable to bear the pain of his betrayal. My grandparents exchanged worried glances, their expressions a mix of concern and disappointment.

Feeling a surge of anger and frustration, I pushed back my chair and stormed out of the room, unable to face the turmoil unfolding before me. As I retreated to my room, I couldn’t shake the sense of betrayal that hung over our family like a dark cloud.

In the days that followed, my parents tried to mend their fractured relationship, but the trust that had once bound them together had been irreparably shattered. And though I struggled to come to terms with the reality of my dad’s infidelity, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that the truth had finally been brought to light.