Im Oksana, and this is your sixyearold grandson.
In a quiet southernFrench town where plane trees line the narrow streets and life moves at a leisurely pace, my fate took an unexpected turn. My name is Hélène Dumont, and I was returning home from work when a voice called my name. I turned around and froze: a young woman stood before me holding a boy about six years old. She stepped closer and uttered words that chilled my heart: 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 bright, ambitious man climbing the career ladder. He isnt married, and although Ive always dreamed of becoming a grandmother, I never imagined it would happen abruptly, delivered by a complete unknown. Shock gave way to bewilderment: how could I have been unaware of this grandson for six years?
The blame, I think, lies partly with me. I raised Théo on my own, 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, never settling down. I stayed out of it, but deep down I recalled being twenty when I gave birth to himalone, without support, sacrificing my youth and comfort. Only a few years ago did Théo treat me to a trip on the Côte dAzurmy first encounter with the sea. I have no regrets, but the thought of being a grandmother has lingered in my mind.
Then Camille and Mathis stood before me. With a voice that trembled yet remained firm, she added: I hesitated a long time before telling you, but Mathis is part of your family. You had the right to know. Im raising him alone, and heres my number. If youd like to meet him, call me.
She walked away, leaving me shaken. I called Théo immediately. He was as bewildered as I was. He could barely recall a brief relationship with a Camille years ago. She had announced a pregnancy, but he refused to accept paternity, and then she vanished from his life. Her words pierced me: my beloved son had dismissed that responsibility as something trivial.
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. A seed of doubt grew: could Camille be lying? Yet Mathiss shy, large eyes kept looping in my thoughts.
Eventually I called Camille back. She told me Mathis was born in April. When I mentioned a DNA test, she answered calmly: I know who his father is. No test is needed. She assured me his grandparents were helping, that she worked to support Mathis, and that he would start primary school this September. Her tone was steady, laced with resolve.
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 ended the call abruptly, and since then I cant stop wondering whether to knock on her door or leave the past where it belongs.
