My name is Oksana, and this is your grandson, six years old.
In a quiet southern French town, where plane trees line the narrow streets and life moves at a leisurely pace, my fate took an unexpected turn. I am Hélène Dumont, returning home from work when a voice called my name. I turned around and froze: a young woman stood before me with a boy who looked about six. She approached and uttered words that chilled me: Hélène Dumont, Im Camille, and this is your grandson, Mathis. Hes six.
I was stunned. Their faces were strangers, and their declaration struck me like thunder. I have a son, Théo, a brilliant, ambitious man climbing the career ladder. He isnt married, and though I have always dreamed of becoming a grandmother, I never imagined it would happen suddenly, delivered by a total stranger. Shock gave way to confusion: how could I have been unaware of this grandson for six years?
The blame lies, at least in part, with me. I raised Théo alone, working tirelessly to give him a future. Im proud of his achievements, yet his love life has always worried me. He flitted from one conquest to another without ever committing. I stayed out of it, but deep down I recalled my own twenties, when I gave birth to him alone, without support, sacrificing my youth and comfort. Only a few years ago did Théo take me to the Côte dAzurmy first time looking at the sea. I regret nothing, but the thought of being a grandmother has always lingered.
Then Camille and Mathis stood before me. In a trembling yet firm voice she added, I hesitated to tell you, but Mathis is part of your family. You had a right to know. Im raising him alone. Heres my number. Call if youd like to meet him.
She left, leaving me shaken. I immediately called Théo. He was as bewildered as I was. He could barely recall a brief affair with a Camille years ago. She had announced a pregnancy, but he refused to accept paternity and then vanished from his thoughts. Her words pierced me: my beloved son had dismissed this responsibility as insignificant.
Théo claimed he knew nothing about the child and doubted Mathis was his. Why would she wait six years? Its suspicious! I tried to make sense of it. He told me they had broken up in September. Doubt crept in: what if Camille was lying? Yet Mathiss shy, large eyes haunted me.
I finally called Camille back. She told me Mathis was born in April. When I mentioned a DNA test, she replied calmly, I know who his father is. No test is needed. She assured me her parents were helping, that she worked to support Mathis, who would start primary school at the upcoming term. Her tone was steady, yet determined.
Hélène Dumont, if you want to see Mathis, I wont object, she said. If not, Ill understand. I know from Théo how hard this has been for you. She hung up, and since then I cant stop wondering whether to knock on her door or let the past remain where it belongs.
