I know you don't like it when I talk about what happened. But it was a real part of my life, and I can't block it out no matter how bad you want me to. Those emotions still come back at the mention of his name.

I remember when I found out for the first time who he was, the guy you had been cheating on dad with. The few weeks after I initially found out but didn't know who or why or any other details were honestly the easiest.

You see that day I invited you shopping and you said you were too tired from night shift, but I passed your car on the highway. I didn't see his face but I knew from the silhouette of a SnapBack and long hair and faint glimpse of tasteless tattoos, I knew it was someone like him. I couldn't bring myself to believe it was actually him. Maybe one of his friends or something but not him.

I had to pull over to the side of a busy highway in the summertime traffic of a costal Alabama town. I was in shock, mom. I didn't want to believe it. I called dad in tears because surely he could apply some sort of sobering explanation of what I had just seen. Surely it wasn't who I had thought, maybe it wasn't even really your car, the one our family had taken on several trips to Disney World over the years. The car I learned to drive in and shamelessly drove to work in. Although, driving a minivan was SO uncool according to my minimum wage coworkers whose parents bought them brand new cars for their sweet 16. Meanwhile my mom had disappeared on my 16 birthday to meet this silhouette figure, I just didn't know it yet.

When I called dad, in between sobs and gasps for air, I told him everything I saw, what I suspected but was afraid to believe. It was that Sunday afternoon on the side of the highway I learned who he was, mom. Your now boyfriend who I once called brother.

Many memories flashed before me those next moments, all those afternoons you would pick us up from school and he would be in the car, because you always went to the high school to pick him up first, then the elementary school to get my brothers, then the middle school to get me. His foster mom didn't mind, after all you were once his case worker. You were the state appointed employee designated to oversee his care in the foster system. The one consistent motherly figure in his life.

I remembered the time after he had aged out of foster care when he was homeless and you and dad took him in. I was so excited to have a big brother. Although that must've been about the time your relationship started.

I remember when I was 15 and started cutting, around the same time dad kicked him out, you didn't understand, you yelled at me and told me everything was my fault. Everyone assumed he touched me, and that's why dad had to kick him out. No one suspected that it's because you were having an affair with him.

When I was 15 and lost my virginity you called me a whore, told me no guy actually thought I was pretty. You spoke to me in the most hurtful ways, yet you continued your affair with a 20 year old.

I was 18 when I found out, mom. I was half way through my senior year, and was taking college classes, working full time. I thought you were proud of me, until you disappeared. It's been over a year now and I still don't have my diploma because you were responsible for submitting my grades to the school, but you didn't. You were too busy with him.

I remember the day I told you I was moving in with my boyfriend, you told me that was immoral and a bad idea, yet you were living with that guy in the camper our family purchased.

Then the day I got engaged you weren't even happy for me, you told me it was stupid because I'm young, I'd regret it.

I remember the day you moved back in with dad, he may believe your lies but I don't.

Having you at my wedding was hard. I love you but I really don't like you. My heart longs for my mother, but all I have is a heartless void in her body.

You don't love me mom, please stop saying that you do. You wouldn't have done that if you loved me. Even though you live in dad's house again, that doesn't mean that none of this ever happened. And if I make mention of it, please don't play dumb. You weren't around for a year, mom. You were screwing a fuckboy who played you. He doesn't love you, not like me and Dad and your sons. We love you and we want you back. But this emotionless being sitting at the dinner table, she's not my mom. Please stop pretending to be.