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“What do you want, Mom?”

She reached me, slightly out of breath, her carefully styled hair starting to escape its pins. “Honey, we need to talk about what just happened.”

“What just happened?” I laughed, and it sounded unhinged even to me. “You mean my twin sister betraying me? My husband betraying me? Or the part where I played their sex tape? Which part would you like to discuss?”

“Sam, please. You’re upset…”

“I’m upset?” Another laugh. Definitely unhinged. “I just found out about their affair. Upset doesn’t quite cover it.”

She reached for my hand, but I pulled back. I needed to know the truth first. I needed to see if she knew, so I fished for the truth:

“How long have you known?”

The question hung between us. I was totally assuming she did, and a big part of me was hoping she’d just frown and say what the hell I was talking about. But my mother’s face did that thing again, that guilty flinch she probably thought I couldn’t read. Oh. Oh, no.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t.” My voice came out flat. Dead. “Don’t you dare lie to me too. Especially not tonight.”

She looked away, focusing on a point somewhere past my shoulder. “Sam, marriage is complicated. Sometimes men… they have needs. It doesn’t mean they don’t love their wives.”

My brain short-circuited. Actually short-circuited. I could feel the neurons misfiring, trying to process what my mother had just said.

“Needs? Are you seriously standing here telling me that Garrett fucking my sister is about needs?”

“Language, Samantha.”

“Oh, fuck my language!” I was shouting now. Probably giving the hotel staff quite a show. “I’m being cheated on and you’re worried about my language?”

“It’s not ideal, I know, but…”

“Not ideal?” I was definitely hysteric now. “Mom, he was inside her. I saw it. I didn’t record it, but I saw it with my own eyes. I was there! That’s a bit past not ideal!”

“These things happen. Your father had his indiscretions too. Men need variety. It doesn’t mean…”

“How long have you known?” I gritted my teeth.

She pressed her lips together.

“How. Long.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me!” The words ripped out of me. “You owe me that much. How long have you watched me plan this wedding, pick out flowers, taste cake, all while knowing my fiancé’s dirty little secret? How long, Mom?”

Her shoulders sagged. “Two years.”

The words echoed in my head like gunfire. My ears were even ringing, my body too shocked to move. I was expecting a few months, maybe. But this…?

Two years?

Two. Years.

I’d been with Garrett for four years. Which meant for half of our relationship, he’d been with Sophie too. At least that was what she knew. Maybe this had been happening since I got together with Garrett.

“You knew for two years and you let me marry him? What kind of mother are you?”

Tears were streaming down her face now, ruining her professionally applied makeup. “I thought it would end. These things usually do. Men get it out of their systems and come back to their wives. I thought if I just let it run its course…”