My son had always been my companion and my rock, but after his marriage we became strangers.
I never imagined my child could change so dramatically under someone elses influence. My only son, Alexandre, had always been a golden boycourteous, kind, always ready to help. He grew up that way and remained the same into adulthood. Before he married, we were inseparable: we met often, talked for hours about anything and everything, shared our sorrows and joys, and supported each otheralways within reasonable limits, never meddling in his life beyond what was necessary. Everything fell apart when she entered his worldMarine.
For their wedding, Marine and Alexandre received, as a gift from her parents, a newly renovated oneroom apartment in the heart of Lyon. It became their modest nest. I was never invited over, but Alexandre showed me pictures on his phone: bright walls, brandnew furniture, a cozy atmosphere. After my husbands death I was left with no savings, so I decided to pass almost all my jewelrygold chains, rings, earrings accumulated over the yearsto the young couple. I told Marine, If you want to melt them down, I dont mind. I wanted to help them, to support the start of their life together.
But Marine she revealed her true nature immediately. A strongwilled woman, sharp as a blade. I noticed how she rummaged through the wedding envelopes filled with cashher curiosity about the amount made me uneasy. On one hand, that trait could make a good wife; on the other, it warned me to stay alert. Nowadays many women see their husbands as wallets, spend his money as if it were theirs, then divorce, take half, and move on to the next target. I dont want that fate for Alexandre, yet the worry gnaws at me.
Six months after the wedding, Marine declared she didnt want children yet. Not now, she said, in this tiny flat its impossible. She threw up her hands: What can we do? I dont want to take a loan, and we dont know when well afford a larger place. Alexandre isnt a big boss yet. She spoke aloud, but I sensed a calculation in her tone. Meanwhile I lived in the house my late husband had begun to build; it remained unfinished, with gaps in the walls, and in winter the cold was freezingmy pension barely covered heating. Then Marine suggested, Sell your house, buy a studio, give us the rest for a new flat. Then well think about kids.
Do you see what that means? She wants an old, frail woman like me to give up everything so they can take the best of it. Perhaps theyd even push me into a retirement home. At first I considered agreeingif only they helped me financially once a month. Now? Never! With someone like Marine, you must stay on guardshe could strike at any moment.
After that conversation Alexandre visited me several times, subtly implying his idea wasnt so bad: Why do you need a big house? It would be easier in an apartment with lower charges. I stood firm: The city is growing; in five to ten years the houses will increase in value. My land is no longer on the outskirtsselling now would be foolish. One day I proposed a swap: they move into my house, I move into their studio. After all, its the same, right? Marine refused. She didnt like the idea of a house needing repairs and investment while she would live carefree in the gifted apartment. She wants comfort, even if my offer is more advantageous. Thats how she is, and theres nothing I can do.
Then I fell seriously ill, my bones aching. Confined to bed with fever, cough, and excruciating headaches, I called Alexandre, begging him to bring food and medicine. I knew the young couple had little time, but I couldnt even boil water. I never imagined he would abandon everything to come. He arrived only the next day, handed me a powder resembling Fervex, left a loose box of possibly expired aspirin on the table, shrugged, and left. Fortunately a friend came to my rescue, bringing soup, medication, everything I needed. If she hadnt been there, what would have become of me?
My son had been my light and my support all my life. I trusted him blindlyhe was more than a son, he was a friend, a part of me. Yet marriage erased everything. We are now strangers, and I am powerless to change it. He is my only child, my love, my pride, but his heart now belongs elsewhere. Marine has placed herself between us like a wall, leaving me on the other sidealone, abandoned, useless. Reason says the bond is broken. Its time for him to choosehis mother or his wife. The choice is as clear as day. Still, my heart clings to the hope that he will remember what I meant to him, that he will return. Each day, however, that hope melts like snow under an unfamiliar sun.
