She is 32, and her 12yearold son has just married her new 22yearold husband.
The boy is 12, he is 22, and his mother is 32. Yesterday he became his mothers husband. They told him today.
The little girl locked herself in her room and didnt come out all day. They called her, her mother stood at the door, offered to go to the cinema, an amusement park, take a walk, visit friends. She didnt answer. Lying on the couch she first wept, then fell asleep. Later she stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. By evening hunger finally forced her to leave.
It took her several years to get used to the new situation. She received every word from her mother with suspicion, looked at them together with contempt, behaved insolently, crudely, and full of hatred. Her mothers younger sister tried to talk to her, but she refused to listen. She often thought about running away. One day she fled and hid in a neighboring house, sitting on the steps leading to the attic until the cold drove her to her aunts place.
When her mother came to fetch her, the girl was already warmed up and had eaten. Her mothers hands trembled slightly and her eyes were watery. She had come alone.
They returned home by taxi. The girl watched her mothers profile and saw her as old. He, however, was handsome. Then he vanished mysteriously for an entire month. The girl asked nothing, her mother said nothing, and the house atmosphere returned to how it had been beforejust her and her mother. Gradually they reconnected, and the girl calmed down.
Later he came back: her mothers young husband. The girl grew accustomed to his presence, realizing he was now part of their lives. At eighteen, while they were having lunch, she slid a knife across the table, deliberately holding his hand longer than needed. She looked him straight in the eyes, and he met her gaze. Her mother, pale, bowed her head. The meal ended in silence.
Another day, when her mother wasnt there, she approached him, pressed her forehead against his back, and held her breath. He stayed still for a moment, then turned, gently pushed her away and took her by the shoulders, telling her not to act foolishly. She broke into hysterical tears: Why? What do you see in her? Shes old, she has wrinkles, cant you see? Why do you want an old woman?
He brought her a glass of water, seated her in a chair, covered her with a blanket, then slammed the door and left. She stayed there crying, realizing she had to leave, move to a university residence or find an apartment. She had just been rejected like a kittenset aside, humiliated.
He was so goodlooking. She dreamed of him. He didnt come home, and her mother stayed silent. The two of them drifted through the house like shadows.
He finally returned after a few days. Her mother wasnt there; she was alone again, writing notes in the kitchen while sipping tea. When he entered and sat opposite her, her heart stopped. Fatigued, he looked her in the eyes and said, Im in love with your mother, accept it. Shes the one I love, not you. We wont argue about this; we must stop hurting each other. He never looked away.
She spent the night lying awake, eyes dry, mind empty. The next day she caught him and her mother kissing in the kitchen. Nausea washed over her and she ran to the bathroom.
She eventually secured a spot in a university residence. Her mother asked her to return, and later gave her money to rent an apartment.
At twentyfive, he was thirtyfive and her mother fortyfive. Against all odds, their relationships had almost normalized. She visited them, they ate lunch together, talked and laughed. Her mothers sister once said, Thank God, youve grown up. Her mother was happy, at peace, and her husband still as handsome as everindeed, extremely handsome. She realized she compared every suitor to him, and that thought displeased her.
Later she endured an unhappy love affair. The man was married and had no intention of leaving his wife. She loved him, waited for him after work, wept. She didnt want to be a secret lover. Everything was painful, tearing, bitter. He took her to the sea, gave her gifts, and wondered whether that was enough, whether the relationship had to become official with marriage and children. For him, cohabiting was boring.
She refused, shaking her head stubbornly. She remembered her mother kissing her husband in the kitchen, and herself, foolishly, fleeing to vomit from disgust. She couldnt understand that a life shared by two could be differentbeautiful, peaceful, authentic.
That year she passed through a great inner storm. She rarely came home, met her mother in cafés, sometimes visited. Her mother had slimmed a bit, still caring about her appearance. Her husband remained charming. Now an adult and clearsighted, she finally grasped the full extent of her mothers love.
At twentyeight, he was thirtyeight, her mother fortyeight. A job offer in another city appeared, and she leftactually, she sought that job to escape past painful relationships that had consumed almost three years of her life.
She adapted well to the new life, calm. She even started a relationship with a single, charming coworker. It seemed time to marry, to start a family, to make decisions about her life.
Her mothers husband came to the new city on business. They had lunch together. She felt light and joyful. She told him about her new life, asked about his work and about her mother. He answered. Then she noticed his hands and felt an intense, physical desire for him to take her in his arms
He seemed to understand, fell silent, searching for words, afraid of hurting her. Yet he said, I love you, little capricious girl. I know and feel your pain, your wounds, your wishes. Well always be good friends; you can always count on me.
Both felt awkward. She shook her head and laughed, What do you really want from me?
Soon after, he called to say her mother was ill and waiting for a visit. She called her mother back, whose voice was tired but comforting. Of course, my dear, come next weekend. Not this timeyou have things to do. Ill be happy to see you; I miss you a lot. Unexpectedly, her mother added, Did you forgive me? I mean for him. I know you loved him; I saw it. Ive regretted a thousand times how everything happened. Forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you
Later he called again, announcing her mother had been hospitalized and she needed to come. Two days of work, then she would go. Two days isnt long, right? Not long; she would arrive in time for tests and diagnosis.
She came, but didnt get to see her mother in time. He stood in the hospital corridor, eyes empty, handsome yet distant. He cast a heavy glance at her, then turned toward the window.
After the funeral, she wandered the apartment like a specter, moving objects, taking alreadyclean dishes and washing them again, preparing tea and then discarding it, cleaning the windows over and over.
He also took care of things, coming home late, skipping dinner, slipping silently into the bedroom.
One day he was absent; she entered the room. The scent of her mothers perfume, of past happiness, seized her heart when she saw pictures of her mother everywhere: on the dresser, on the wall, on the quilt She slammed the door shut.
She realized she had never truly understood their love, and that she would never understand it.
At 32, She Just Watched Her 12-Year-Old Son Marry Her Brand-New 22-Year-Old Husband.
