An Unexpected Visit… and the Shock of a Forbidden Revelation

A sudden visit and the blow of a forbidden truth
I turned up at my daughters place unannounced and saw something I never wanted to learn
Sometimes we assume happiness lives in our childrens health and stability. I felt fortunate: a loving husband, an adult daughter, charming grandchildren. We werent wealthy, yet our home overflowed with harmony. What more could we ask?
Élodie married young, at twentyone, to a thirtyfiveyearold man. We didnt object; he had a steady job, an apartment in Paris, a calm demeanor. Not a carefree student, but a rock. He covered everythingthe 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, spent weekends together Gradually, Élodie began to withdraw. 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 textread, no reply. I hopped on a TER to Versailles. Surprise, I told her, but it was a lie.
She startled when she opened the door. No joy, only embarrassment. She slipped into the kitchen. I played with the kids, cooked dinner, stayed the night. Later, her husband came home late, a blond strand stuck to his jacket, a foreign scent on him. He kissed her automatically; she looked away.
That night 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: Are you aware? She dropped her eyes. Mom, drop it. Everythings fine. I recounted what Id seen and heard. She repeated, like a mantra, Hes a good father. He provides everything. Love it fades.
I locked myself in the bathroom and wept. My daughter had become a silent accomplice, trading her dignity for Louis Vuitton bags and vacations in SaintTropez.
That evening I faced her husband. He shrugged, Im not leaving her. I pay the bills. Shed rather ignore it. Mind your own business.
What if I tell her everything?
She already knows. She just looks away.
The 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 in her mirror, she remembers she deserves better. That honor outweighs money. That she will take the children and walk away.
As for me? I will stay, even if she pushes me away. A mother never gives up, even when pain tears her heart apart.