She saw the envelope on her dressing table. Anna looked at it, puzzled, and picked it up. It was John's hand writing. It was not gummed together and she took out the folded paper. Her hands trembled as she read. Anna felt weak and sat on the edge of her bed. Her mouth felt dry and her throat constricted.
'I know what you and Uncle Mark had been doing. I saw you both in your room. I did not mean to spy but the door was ajar. I'll be home later tonight. We have to talk.' It was signed 'John'.
Anna's face flushed. The blood rushed to her head and she clutched the letter in her trembling hand. Her heart beat became erratic and felt like fainting. God, John had witness the sinful act between her and Mark. He saw the whole sordid affair.
Anna did not know how long she sat in solitude, her thoughts running wild. How could she face her son? He would be home soon. The small table clock on the table showed 9.38pm. Time passed like eons when she heard the front door opening. In the stillness of late evening, she could only wait for the inevitable.
As Anna sat in turmoil, she heard John closing the door of his room.
She waited for the dreaded knock on her door but there was only silence. Realizing that there was nothing she could do except to face the inevitable confrontation. She had thought of calling Mark but decided against it. Anna dragged herself up and headed for the bathroom. She desperately hoped that it was a nightmare and she would wake up to but the cold shower water drenching her burning body proved otherwise.
As the water cascaded down, she visualized what John had seen that day when Mark made love with her on her bed. It had to be a traumatic experience for her son. Why didn't she lock the door?
She dressed in her pajamas and sat down, her heart pounding. Every little sound was amplified.
She heard his soft footsteps and it stopped. She heard the quiet knock. Anna clasped her arms around her and remained silent. The knock was slightly louder and she heard him.
"Mom, can I come in," John said.
Without waiting for her reply, John opened the door and stepped in. Anna looked at him. Her son somehow looked different. His face was flushed and his eyes had a wild look. He was wearing only a towel around his midriff. His young sturdy chest was matted with fine curly dark hair. Anna could only stare at the young man. She had seen him often around the house dressed in this state, but at the moment, he looked like a stranger.
He sat by her dressing table.
Mother and son looked at each other, both locked in their own thoughts and fears.
"I see you read my note," John said.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry John," Anna cried as tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Please forgive me," she cried, as she wiped the tears from the eyes. "I will die if it anyone knows about it," she continued.
"Don't hate me John, I could not live if you hated me," Anna pleaded.
John felt a twinge of regret at his actions but the vision of the woman on the bed, so vulnerable, had a mortal effect on him. His own sexual urges were heightened and he knew he wanted her so desperately, his own mother.
The words just flowed out of him, beyond his control.
"It's our own secret but I have to tell you something," he said, his voice shaking.
For the first time, Anna raised her head to look at him, a great burden lifted from her chest.
"What is it John," she said softly.
