liam

*The Wrong Kind of Silence* I found out on a Tuesday. Rain was hammering the windows and my phone lit up with a photo from an unknown number. It was Mom’s car. In my best friend Jake’s driveway. 9:47 PM. I didn’t want to believe it. Jake and I had been pulling all-nighters for physics since sophomore year. He’d eaten dinner at our house so many times he knew where we kept the spare cereal. Mom called him “the kid who actually does his homework.” The story didn’t break all at once. It leaked. First, Mom started “working late” on Thursdays. Then Jake stopped coming over. He said his parents were strict about grades now. Bullshit. I saw them at the grocery store once, pretending not to see each other. Mom’s eyes looked like she’d been crying in the car. Jake’s hands were shoved so deep in his pockets he looked like he was trying to disappear. Dad found out a month later. He didn’t yell. He got quiet in that way that fills a whole house. He moved his stuff to the guest room the same night. The worst part wasn’t the betrayal. It was how small everything got after. Dinner was quiet. Jake unfollowed me on everything. Mom started wearing makeup again, but only on days I wasn’t home. I didn’t confront either of them. What was I going to say? “Hey, did you ruin my family for a few months of keeping a secret?” They already knew. Six months later, Mom and Jake ended it. She told me over pancakes she’d burned. “I made a choice I thought would make me feel less alone,” she said. “It just made everyone alone.” Jake texted me a year after that. “I’m sorry” was all it said. I didn’t reply. People tell you time fixes things. It doesn’t. It just gives you more room to carry it. Mom and Dad are divorced now. We’re civil. Jake and I see each other at the store sometimes. We nod. That’s it. The hou