Unexpected visit and the blow of a forbidden truth
I turned up at my daughters house without warning and saw what I never wanted to see
Sometimes we think happiness lives in the health and stability of our children. I felt lucky: a loving husband, an adult daughter, delightful grandchildren. We werent wealthy, but our home overflowed with harmony. What more could we ask for?
Elodie married young, at twentyone, to a thirtyfiveyearold man. We didnt object: he had a steady job, a flat in Paris, a calm demeanor. Not a carefree student, but a rock. He covered everything the dress, the honeymoon in Provence, lavish gifts. The family whispered, Elodie has found her prince.
The first years were pictureperfect. Lucas was born, then Chloé, we moved into a house in Versailles, family weekends Gradually, Elodie started to shut herself off. Her smiles faded, her answers grew vague. Everythings fine, she said, in a hollow voice. My maternal instinct sensed otherwise.
One morning, I could no longer wait. I called her. Silence. I sent a text read, no reply. I hopped on a TER to Versailles. I told her it was a surprise. It was a lie.
She jumped when I opened the door. No joy, only awkwardness. She fled to the kitchen. I played with the kids, made dinner, stayed the night. That evening her husband came home late, a blond strand stuck to his jacket, an unfamiliar scent. He kissed her automatically. She looked away.
Later, I got up for a drink. On the balcony he whispered into his phone: Soon, my love She knows nothing. My glass trembled in my hand. Nausea rose.
At breakfast I confronted her: Do you know? She lowered her eyes. Mom, drop it. Everythings okay. I recounted what I had seen and heard. She repeated, like a mantra: Hes a good father. He provides everything. Love fades.
I locked myself in the bathroom to cry. My daughter had become a shadow, trading dignity for Louis Vuitton bags and SaintTropez holidays.
That night I faced her husband. He shrugged: I wont leave her. I pay the bills. She prefers to ignore it. Mind your own business.
What if I tell her everything?
She already knows. She closes her eyes.
Shock. On the return TER I felt suffocated. My husband begged me: Dont push, youll lose her. But she was already gone. She withers day by day beside a man who hoards mistresses.
I pray that one morning, looking into her mirror, she remembers she deserves better. That honor outweighs money. That she takes the children and walks away.
Me? Ill stay here. Even if she pushes me away. A mother never gives up, even when the pain tears her heart out.
An Unplanned Visit… and the Shock of a Forbidden Revelation
