There were a few things I wanted to get from my mom's place. I knew, for a fact, I left my passport and other government documents with her. Mostly out of habit from my youth, trusting my parents with anything important. I didn't want to lose place of it during the move.
"I won't be too long," I said to Layla, jingling the house keys back and forth in my hand. She was packed up and so was Akin. They were able to use their vacation hours. There was a playlist Akin curated, blasting from the car, when I walked out and went up to the front door.
It wasn't locked.
The open garage made me suspicious – but I went inside anyway.
"Mom would never forget that," I whispered to myself, entering further into the house.
Was she getting forgetful with age? Had she gotten to that age yet that meant I needed to take a closer look at her? She wasn't even seventy years old. She only needed glasses to read – and not for when she drove or did any other task. My heart sank, thinking of the worst scenario.
The laughter was the first thing I took note of.
And the person my mother was hovering over...was the second thing.
It was Wesley.
Wesley was kissing my mother.