Jesus. This was too much. I couldn't deal with this. I felt actual nausea mixed with panic. I couldn't even face her. So I lied. Badly.
"Mom I honestly have no idea what you're talking about or why you're lurking outside my room. If you've got a problem with me doing...stuff...for Dad, maybe you should take it up with him. He is your husband, after all. In theory anyway."
And then I walked right by her. I made no attempt to move out of the way so I shouldered straight past her, practically pushing her out of the way. I wanted...no needed to see my father. Now. I needed to ask him for his help. Tell him everything. Beg him to help me fix the s**t my stupid, sick lusts broke. But right now I couldn't. I went to the garage.
I couldn't get the glimpse of Mom out of my head. As I walked past
