A sudden visit and the blow of a forbidden truth
I showed up at my daughters place unannounced and stumbled upon something I never wanted to learn
Sometimes we think happiness lives in our childrens health and stability. I felt lucky: a loving husband, an adult daughter, adorable grandchildren. We werent wealthy, but our home overflowed with harmony. What more could we ask for?
Élodie 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, Élodie has found her prince.
The first years were pictureperfect. Lucas was born, then Chloé, we moved into a house in Versailles, weekends together as a family Then, gradually, Élodie began to shut down. Her smiles faded, her answers grew vague. Everythings fine, she said, her voice hollow. My motherly instinct sensed otherwise.
One morning, fed up, I called her. Silence. I sent a text read, no reply. I hopped on a TER to Versailles. Surprise, I told her. It was a lie.
She jumped when she opened the door. No joy, just awkwardness. She retreated to the kitchen. I played with the kids, cooked dinner, stayed the night. That evening her husband came home late, a blond lock stuck to his jacket, a foreign scent lingering. He kissed her mechanically. She averted her gaze.
Later, I got up for a drink. On the balcony I heard him murmur into his phone, Soon, darling She knows nothing. My glass trembled in my hand, nausea rising.
At breakfast I confronted her: Do you know? She lowered her eyes. Mom, drop it. Everythings fine. I recounted what Id seen and heard. She repeated, like a mantra, Hes a good father. He gives us everything. Love fades.
I locked myself in the bathroom and wept. My daughter had become a shadow, trading dignity for Louis Vuitton bags and trips to SaintTropez.
That night I faced her husband. He shrugged, Im not leaving her. I pay the bills. She prefers to ignore it. Mind your own business.
What if I tell her everything?
She already knows. She just closes her eyes.
Shock hit me on the return TER; I felt suffocated. My own husband begged, Dont push, youll lose her. But she was already gone, fading day by day beside a man who collects 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, even if she pushes me away. A mother never quits, even when pain tears her heart apart.
An Unexpected Visit… and the Shock of a Forbidden Revelation
