My son left me in the middle of an empty road for his wife, but no one could even imagine that this would happen a month later š±š¢
I raised my son alone. From the very first days of his life, he became everything to me. I lived for him. I didnāt buy myself dresses, didnāt allow myself days off, I donāt remember the last time I slept peacefully ā all for him.
I worked around the clock: at the post office, as a cleaner, and washed dishes in a cafe. When people asked me why I was so exhausted, I always said: āI want my son to have everything that I didnāt have.ā
I believed that when I got old, he would be there. That he wouldnāt abandon me, wouldnāt betray me. He always said: āMommy, when I grow up, Iāll buy you a house and a car!ā And I believed. Because he was my boy.
But everything changed when a girl appeared in his life. I understood at first glance ā this girl would not bring anything good.
She looked at me with a cold smile. She never called me by name. Neither “auntie” nor “mom” – just “you”.
Immediately tried to convince my son that I was supposedly “slowing down his development”. She shamed him for helping me, saying:
– Why are you giving money to mom? Let him work if he wants to eat.
– Stop dragging her around with you. You have your own family now.
She weaved intrigues, dissuaded him from coming to me. She told friends that I was “manipulating him”, although I just called sometimes to find out if everything was okay with him.
When I once brought him a pie, she threw him out the door with the words:
– Let him wash his hands from someone else’s kitchen first before bringing food.
He became colder and colder. With each passing day I felt: I was losing my son. And then ā one morning ā he said:
āMom, I want to take you somewhere. Just live there for a while. Relax.ā
There was no warmth or care in his voice. I sensed where he was taking me. But I went. Because this was my child.
We drove for a long time. Further and further from the city. At some point, he stopped. A remote road. No houses, no people. Just sand and wind.
āGet out,ā he said.
I got out. He didnāt look me in the eye. He silently closed the door and drove away, leaving me in the middle of the desert.
I couldnāt even imagine then that in just a month my son would come to ask me for forgiveness. š¢ But who needs that? Iām telling my story in the first comment and I hope for your support ā¬ļøā¬ļø
I stood there, not believing it. It was as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I didnāt scream. There were no tears. There was only silence and pain. I didnāt know where to go. I didnāt know how to live on.
I just stood there and prayed to wake up from this nightmare.
A distant relative took me in. He lived alone in a village and took me in. I didnāt call my son. I didnāt want to hear his voice.
A month passed. And then he arrived.
He was kneeling in front of me and crying like a little boy.
It turned out that his girlfriend had betrayed him. Cheated on him with his friend. Stole almost all the money from their joint account. Ran away. Leaving him in debt and shame.
He said that when he kicked me out, he thought he was doing the right thing. That he was building a ānew life.ā But in reality, he was destroying everything.
He begged me to forgive him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He was kissing my hands.
– Mommy, forgive me… I forgot who really loves me.
And I just looked at him and thought:
Do I need this goodbye?
