Mum, imagine thisDads new wife is ill, and they say its something serious.
Let me tell you a story from ten years ago. I raised two daughters with my husband, and theyd both gone off to uni. I was really looking forward to that time in my life, thinking my husband and I would start fresh, just the two of us. But he had other ideashe ended up having an affair with his secretary.
“Im sorry, I never meant to hurt you,” he said, “but I love her.”
That evening, he packed his things and moved in with a woman half his age. The girls were furious with him and stopped speaking to him. It was so hard for me, especially when the younger one kept trying to patch things up between us. Id give anything to forget that yeartime didnt heal the wounds, I just learned to live with it. I threw myself into my hobbies, growing rare plants and selling them. It kept me from falling apart.
Eventually, the girls made peace with their dad and would sometimes tell me about his new life. He was happy with her, and later, she gave him a son.
“Mum, youll never believe itshes sick, and they say its serious,” they told me.
“Girls, please, I dont want to hear about them,” Id say. I still loved him, and the thought of him with someone else put me in a foul mood. Years had passed, but in my heart, he was still my husband.
Then, one Saturday morning, I woke up to a figure standing over me. I thought I was dreaming, but then I heard his shaky voice: “Im sorry, I know its early. But II dont know what to do with the boy.” He looked older, his hair streaked with grey, and behind him stood a little lad. I realised it was their son.
“My wife passed last night,” he went on. “Ive got the funeral to arrange, the girls are at work… I just cant take him with me. Hes too young.”
The boy was only about four. I didnt understand what was happening, but when I looked at him, he piped up: “Are you my auntie?”
“No,” I snapped, ready to shut it all down.
“But Mummy said we didnt have anyone.”
“I never even knew your mother.”
He was so sweet, though. I realised none of this was his fault, so I agreed to help my ex.
“Do you like porridge? Come with me to the kitchenyoull have breakfast, and then your dad will pick you up.”
I made myself a cuppa and porridge for the boy. Watching him, I noticed how much he looked like my girls at that age. We spent the morning watching cartoons and reading my daughters old books. He was bright and lovely.
After that, my ex started bringing him round more often, and we became good friends. My girls arent thinking about kids yet, so this little one felt like the grandchild I never had.
Its been two years since his wife died, and recently, my ex asked if we could move in together. Deep down, I want toI can picture us as a proper family. But the hurts still there. I dont know if I can trust him again.
If it doesnt work out, itll only hurt the boy. So Im stuck. I love them both, but the fear of being let down all over again wont leave me.
