Im Oksana, and this is your grandson, six years old.
In a tiny southernFrench town where plane trees line the narrow lanes and life moves at a leisurely pace, my fate took an unexpected turn. My name is Hélène Dumont. I was coming home from work when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and froze: standing before me was a young woman holding a boy about six years old. She stepped closer and said 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 thundered through me. I have a son, Théo, a brilliant, ambitious man climbing the career ladder. He isnt married, and though Ive always dreamed of becoming a grandmother, I never imagined it would happen suddenly, delivered by a complete stranger. Shock gave way to confusion: how could I have been unaware of this grandson for six years?
It must be my fault. I raised Théo alone, working incessantly 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 settling down. I didnt interfere, but deep down I recalled my own twenties, when I gave birth to him alone, without support, sacrificing my youth and any comfort. Only a few years ago did Théo treat me to a trip on the French Rivieramy first time standing by the sea. I regret nothing, but the thought of being a grandmother has always lingered.
Then Camille and Mathis appeared before me. In a trembling yet firm voice she added, I hesitated a long time before telling you, but Mathis is part of your family. You had a right to know. I ask for nothing; Im raising him alone. Heres my number. If youd like to meet him, call me.
She walked away, leaving me shaken. I immediately called Théo. He was as bewildered as I was. He could barely recall a brief relationship with a woman named Camille years ago. She had announced a pregnancy, he had refused to accept any paternal responsibility, and then she vanished from his life. His words cut through me. My beloved son had dismissed that duty as insignificant.
Théo claimed he knew nothing about the child and doubted Mathis could be 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, wide eyes stayed etched in my mind.
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 provide for Mathis, and that he would start first grade at the upcoming school year. Her tone was steady, but determined.
Hélène Dumont, if you want to see Mathis, I wont object, she said. Otherwise Ill understand. I know from Théo how hard this has been for you. She hung up, and since then I cant stop wondering whether I should knock on her door or leave the past where it belongs.
