Clay walks into the house, quietly. It's nearly three in the morning, and he doesn't want to wake Gemma. He tiptoes through the house, stopping when he reaches the bedroom door. He overhears Gemma, on the phone.

"You shouldn't have called so late. I know, I'll be there. Yes, I promise. Goodnight. I love you," she hangs up.

He stands in the doorway, watching her, through the crack in the door. She puts her phone on the nightstand, and rolls over to go to sleep. He waits a few moments, and then makes his way into the bedroom. He climbs in bed next to her. She pretends to be asleep.

She's in her office, the following morning, when he arrives. He sees her notice him walking her way. She hangs up her phone, before he can make it to her office. He opens the door, and walks in.

"I thought that you had business to attend to," she admits.

"I do, but I stopped by to see if you want to get lunch."

"Get lunch? What are you talking about? You never take me to lunch."

"I'm asking."

"It's ten o'clock in the morning," she tells him.

"I've been busy lately, and I haven't seen a lot of you. I thought that I would be nice, and take you to lunch."

"Clay, what do you want?"

"I don't want anything."

"I can't today."

"Why not?"

"I've got somewhere I need to be."

"Ok."

"And, I'll be gone all weekend."

"Whatever," he stomps off.

When he reaches the parking lot Jax is just pulling in. He makes a beeline for him.

"What are your plans for the weekend?" Clay questions.

"Same as yours," Jax reminds him.

"Not anymore."

"Something come up?"

"Yeah, I need you to follow your mother."

"Follow her? Where?"

"I don't know where. She's getting ready to leave, and I need you to follow her."

"Why?"

"I think that she's seeing someone."

"That's not my problem. Clay, you've done it to her, so..."

"Jax, come on."

"No."

"I am asking you as a favor. I don't want to fly off the handle, and kill some unsuspecting douchebag, before I have all the facts."

"What makes you think that she's cheating?"

"She was on the phone at three o'clock in the morning."

"So?"

"She was on the phone a minute ago, and hung up, before I could get there."

"Maybe she was done talking."

"She's going out of town for the weekend."

"Clay, you're being paranoid, and since when do you give a damn what she does?"

"She's my wife."

"You have other priorities."

"Let me take care of them, you keep an eye on your mother."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Follow her."

"On my bike?"

"No. She can't know that you're following her. You have to blend in."

"Whatever."

Clay finds Jax a car, on the lot that he can be unnoticed on. Jax lights up, and waits for Gemma to leave. She pulls out, within ten minutes.

She drives fast, towards the city limits sign. She blows past it, heading east. Jax follows her for hours, and hundreds of miles, and three fill-ups.

Nine hours later, she finally comes to a stop. She pulls onto a suburban street, in a quiet neighborhood. She pulls into the driveway, and parks her car. She gets out, and heads into the house. Jax watches her as she makes her way up the walk way. In the door way a man meets her. She follows him into the house.

Jax pulls out his phone, and types in the address. He finds a name. He waits outside the house, for hours. Eventually he falls asleep. When he wakes up, Gemma's car is gone, and he has seven missed calls from Clay. He listens to voicemail, and turns the car around, and heads home.

When he returns, Clay is too caught up in club drama to ask, what he's found.

Gemma finally returns, on Sunday, around nine pm. Jax finds her car in the driveway, and stops in.

"What are you doing here? I thought that you had..." she begins, opening the door for him.

"We need to talk."

"By all means, come in," she insists.

"Clay thinks that you're cheating on him."

"Clay thinks a lot of things," Gemma responds.

"Are you?"

"That is not any of your damn business, Jax."

"So then, you are?"

She shakes her head, "No, I'm not."

"So where did you go, this weekend?"

"To the spa."

"Nine hours away?"

"Nine hours away? Did you follow me?"

"To some hotshot lawyer's house. What the Hell is that about?"

"You have no idea."

"Enlighten me."

"Jax, some things, are better left in the dark."

"Like you screwing some guy, nine hours away?"

"I am not screwing him."

"Why did you go to see him?"

"He is an old friend. Someone I knew, a lifetime ago."

"And he just called you up, out of the blue, to come and see him?"

"No. I see him about once a month."

"Why? Is he dying, or something?"

"You wouldn't understand," she argues.