I left the hospital in a daze, my mind a complete mess. I carried my daughters in their carriers, holding onto the note as if it was my only connection to Suzie. When I arrived home, my mother, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, a casserole dish in hand, a huge smile plastered on her face. The smell of cheesy potatoes wafted towards me, but I had no appetite for celebration. As she rushed over to coo at the babies, I stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Not now, Mom,” I said icily, shoving the note into her hands. “What did you do?”
She stumbled back, her cheerful expression replaced by a look of confusion. As she read the note, her face turned as white as a sheet. “Ben, I have no idea what this is about,” she stammered. “Suzie was always so sensitive—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me!” I roared, my voice echoing across the quiet porch. “You’ve always put her down, criticized her every move. She left because of you!” Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to defend herself, insisting that she only had my best interests at heart. But I wasn’t having any of it. Whatever had transpired, my mother had played a part, and now Suzie was gone.
That night, after finally getting the twins to sleep, I sat at the kitchen table, the note in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. My mother’s protests were still ringing in my ears, but I couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of failure. I started rummaging through Suzie’s things, desperate for some clue, some explanation. And then, in her jewelry box, I found a letter from my mother. The words on the page were like a dagger to my heart.
“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”
I stormed into my mother’s room immediately, my body trembling with anger and betrayal. Her feeble excuses only made me angrier. “She’s the mother of my children,” I bellowed. “You had no right to treat her like this. Pack your bags and get out.”