Behind Closed Doors Moral Stories

At 60, I Finally Let Myself Love Someone Again and Planned a Simple Barbecue So He Could Meet My Son—Instead, My Boyfriend Saw My Son, Turned Pale, and Said, “Linda, I Need to Leave. I Can’t Be Around Him.” When I Demanded to Know Why, He Simply Leave A Sentence That Made Me Doubt My Own Son “Ask Him Why I Never Want to See His Face Again.”

Part 1 of 3

Richard had been in my son’s backyard for less than a minute when his paper plate bent in his hand.

The hamburger slid sideways.

Mustard streaked across the plate and dropped onto the patio.

Jason was coming toward us from the grill.

“Mom, you finally—”

He stopped.

Richard’s face went white.

Jason’s smile disappeared so quickly I almost wondered if I’d imagined it.

I looked from one man to the other.

“Do you know each other?”

Richard didn’t answer me.

He stared straight at my son.

“You.”

Jason set the spatula down.

“Richard?”

That was when I knew.

Not suspicion.

Recognition.

Richard put his plate on the table so hard the plastic fork bounced off.

“Linda, I’m leaving.”

I caught his arm.

“No. You’re not walking out without telling me what’s happening.”

His jaw tightened.

“Ask your son.”

“Ask him what?”

Richard looked at Jason.

“Ask him what he did to Emily.”

Jason went still.

Richard pulled his arm free.

“And after he tells you, decide whether you still want me in your life.”

Then he walked through the side gate.

I stood there listening to his car start in the driveway.

Jason didn’t move.

I turned toward him.

“Who’s Emily?”

My son stared at the ground.

“Mom.”

“Who’s Emily?”

He took a breath.

“Richard’s daughter.”

The backyard suddenly felt too quiet.

The grill hissed behind us.

“How do you know Richard’s daughter?”

Jason looked at me.

“Because I almost married her.”

The Story My Son Had Never Told Me

I turned off the grill.

Then I told Jason’s friend and the two neighbors who had just arrived that something had come up.

Nobody argued.

Within ten minutes, the backyard was empty except for me and my son.

Richard’s plate was still on the table.

The mustard had started drying around the edge.

Jason carried it inside.

I followed him.

“Start talking.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Emily and I dated for almost three years.”

“Three years?”

He nodded.

“You never told me.”

“Dad was sick during part of it. Then after he passed, I didn’t exactly feel like talking about my dating life.”

That answer irritated me more than it should have.

“Don’t use your father to avoid this conversation.”

Jason looked down.

“Fine.”

I waited.

“Emily and I were serious. We had a savings account. We were looking at houses.”

“And?”

He rubbed his face.

“I cheated on her.”

I stared at him.

“Once?”

He said nothing.

“Jason.”

“For a few weeks.”

I pulled out a chair and sat down.

My son stayed standing.

“Did she find out from you?”

“No.”

“Did you admit it when she confronted you?”

He hesitated.

I closed my eyes for a second.

“What did you do?”

“I left the apartment.”

“For how long?”

“A while.”

“That’s not an answer.”

His voice sharpened.

“Six weeks, okay?”

I looked at him.

“You left her alone for six weeks?”

“I was still paying rent.”

“That’s your defense?”

“I’m not defending it.”

“It sounds like you are.”

He pushed away from the counter.

“You asked what happened. I’m telling you.”

“No. You’re telling me the parts that make it easier to hear.”

Jason’s face changed.

“You think Richard gave you the whole story?”

“He hasn’t given me any story yet.”

“He already decided what story he believes.”

I stood.

“Maybe because you gave him a good reason.”

Jason laughed once.

A bitter sound.

“Great. So that’s it?”

“What?”

“You’ve known this guy six months, and now I’m the villain?”

I stared at him.

“You cheated on a woman you were planning a future with, then avoided her for six weeks.”

“And that’s not the whole story.”

“Then tell me the whole story.”

Jason’s hands curled around the edge of the counter.

“Emily had already backed out of the house.”

I stopped.

“What?”

“Before she found out about the affair.”

“Why?”

“Because we were already falling apart.”

Jason paced across the kitchen.

“We fought constantly. Money. Location. Marriage. Kids. She wanted an engagement before we bought anything. I thought buying first made more financial sense. She wanted to live near her job. I wanted something affordable farther out.”

“And she canceled the house plan?”

“Yes.”

“Before the affair came out?”

“A week before.”

I studied him.

“Does Richard know that?”

Jason gave me a humorless smile.

“Apparently not.”

“Did you ever tell him?”

“He wouldn’t speak to me.”

“Did you try?”

Jason opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

That answer was enough.

Richard Gave Me an Ultimatum Without Calling It One

I drove to Richard’s house that evening.

He didn’t answer my calls.

His car was in the driveway.

I found him sitting on the front porch with a cup of coffee he wasn’t drinking.

I sat beside him.

“Jason told me.”

Richard kept looking at the street.

“Did he?”

“He admitted the affair.”

Richard nodded once.

“And the six weeks?”

“Yes.”

His mouth tightened.

“Good.”

“He also told me Emily had already canceled the house plan before she found out.”

Richard looked at me.

“That’s a lie.”

The speed of his answer bothered me.

“Were you there?”

“Linda.”

“Were you?”

He stood.

“I watched my daughter fall apart.”

“I believe you.”

“Then why are you interrogating me?”

“Because you walked out of my son’s house and told me to choose whether I still wanted you after I heard the story.”

Richard turned away.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It sounded exactly like what you meant.”

His shoulders rose and fell.

“Emily had almost twenty thousand dollars in that savings account.”

“And?”

“She thought she was buying a home with him.”

“Jason says she didn’t anymore.”

Richard faced me again.

“Jason says a lot of things.”

“So does every guilty person. So does every angry father.”

His eyes hardened.

“Careful.”

I stood.

“No.”

He looked surprised.

“Don’t tell me to be careful in a conversation you dragged me into.”

Richard folded his arms.

“I’m not going to sit at Thanksgiving dinner pretending that man didn’t wreck my daughter’s life.”

There it was.

I stared at him.

“You’re talking about my son.”

“I’m talking about what he did.”

“No. You’re talking about who you’ve decided he is.”

Richard said nothing.

I picked up my purse.

“If you want me to choose between you and Jason, say it plainly.”

His expression changed.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then don’t make me live it.”

I walked down the porch steps.

Richard came after me.

“Linda.”

I stopped beside my car.

“I love my son. I am not defending what he did.”

Richard said nothing.

“And I care about you. But I will not build a relationship where every holiday becomes a loyalty test.”

His face softened for half a second.

Then he said, “I can’t forget what he did to her.”

I opened my car door.

“I’m not asking you to forget.”

I looked back at him.

“I’m asking whether Emily has.”

Richard didn’t answer.

That was when I knew neither of us had actually asked her.

I Called the One Person Both Men Kept Speaking For

Jason came to my house the next morning.

He walked in using the key I’d given him years earlier.

Then he put it on the kitchen table.

“Maybe you should take that back.”

I slid it toward him.

“Don’t start acting like a martyr.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re still seeing Richard.”

“Probably.”

He stared at me.

“Probably?”

“That depends on whether he can accept reality.”

Jason gave a short laugh.

“Meaning me.”

“No. Meaning that he doesn’t get to decide Emily’s feelings forever.”

Jason sat down.

“And what about me?”

I looked at him.

“You don’t either.”

His expression tightened.

I picked up my phone.

“I want Emily’s number.”

Jason immediately stood.

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