My name is Margaret, Im sixty years old and live in Bath. I never imagined that after everything Ive been through, the past would return to my life with such audacity and crueltytwenty years of silence, shattered by none other than my own son.
At twenty-five, I was deeply in love. Edwardtall, charming, full of lifeseemed like a dream come true. We married quickly, and a year later, our son William was born. Those early years felt like a fairy tale. We lived in a small flat, dreaming and planning together. I worked as a schoolteacher; he was an engineer. Nothing could shake our happiness.
But over time, Edward changed. He came home later, lied, grew distant. I ignored the rumours, turned a blind eye to his late nights and the scent of another womans perfume. Then, one day, the truth was undeniable: hed been unfaithful. Not just once. Friends, neighbours, even my parentsthey all knew. I clung to our family, for Williams sake. I endured too long, hoping hed change. Then one night, I woke to find he still hadnt come home, and I knew Id had enough.
I packed my things, took five-year-old William by the hand, and went to my mothers. Edward didnt try to stop us. A month later, he moved abroadsupposedly for work. Soon, he found another woman and erased us from his life. No letters, no calls. Absolute indifference. I was alone. My mother passed, then my father. William and I faced everything togetherschool, hobbies, illnesses, joys, graduations. I worked tirelessly so hed want for nothing. I had no life of my ownno time. He was my world.
When William started at the University of Manchester, I helped however I couldparcels, money, support. But buying him a flat was beyond me; finances were tight. He never complained. He said hed manage. I was so proud.
Last month, he visited with news: he was getting married. My joy was short-lived. He was nervous, avoiding my eyes. Then he said it:
Mum I need your help. Its about Dad.
I froze. He told me hed reconnected with Edward. That his father was back in England and offering him the keys to a two-bedroom flat, inherited from his grandmother. Buton one condition. I had to remarry him and let him move into my home.
My breath caught. I stared at my son, unable to believe hed ask this seriously. He went on:
Youre alone You have no one. Why not try again? For me. For my future family. Dads changed
I walked to the kitchen in silence. The kettle, the tea, my trembling hands. Everything blurred. Twenty years of carrying it all alone. Twenty years without a single thought from him. And now, this offer.
I returned to the sitting room and said quietly, No. I wont do it.
William exploded. He shouted, accused me. Said Id always been selfish. That it was my fault he grew up without a father. That now I was ruining his life again. I stayed silent. Every word cut deep. He didnt know about my sleepless nights. How Id sold my wedding ring to buy him a winter coat. How Id gone without so he could eat meat while I made do with less.
Im not alone. My life has been hard, but honest. I have my job, my books, my garden, my friends. I dont need a man who betrayed me, whos back for convenience, not love.
William left without a goodbye. He hasnt called since. I know hes hurt. I understand. He wants whats best for himjust as I once did. But I wont sell my dignity for a few square metres. The price is too high.
Maybe one day hell understand. Maybe not soon. But Ill wait. Because I love himtruly, without conditions, without flats or ifs. I brought him into this world with love. I raised him with love. And I wont let that love become a bargaining chip.
As for my ex-husband let him stay in the past. Thats where he belongs. True love doesnt demand sacrifices of the soul. It asks only for honestyand sometimes, the courage to say no.
