My son has been my friend and my rock all my life, but after his marriage, weve become strangers.
My only child, William, was always a golden boypolite, kind, and ready to help. Thats how he grew up, and thats how he stayed as an adult. Until he married, we were inseparable. We met often, talked for hours about everything and nothing, shared joys and sorrows, and supported each other. Of course, within reasonI never interfered in his life beyond what was necessary. But everything crumbled when she came into his lifeEmily.
For their wedding, Emily and William received a one-bedroom flat in central London, newly renovated, as a gift from his parents. It became their little nest. I was never invited over, but William showed me picturesbright walls, new furniture, a warm atmosphere. After my husband passed, I had barely any savings left, so I decided to give the young couple nearly all my jewelrygold chains, rings, and earrings collected over the years. I told Emily, If you want to melt them down, I dont mind. I only wanted to help them at the start of their life together.
But Emily she showed her true colours quickly. Sharp as a knife, with a will of her own. I noticed how she rifled through the wedding envelopes stuffed with cashher curiosity about the amounts unsettled me. On one hand, that trait might make her a thrifty wife, but on the otherit was reason to be wary. Women these days often see their husbands as wallets, spend their money freely, then divorce, take half, and move on. I dont want that fate for William, but the worry gnaws at me.
Six months after the wedding, Emily announced she didnt want children yet. Not now, she saidtheir little flat wasnt suitable. She threw up her hands. What can we do? I dont want a mortgage, and who knows when well afford a bigger place? William isnt a CEO yet. She was thinking aloud, but I heard the calculation in her voice. Meanwhile, I live in the house my late husband started building. Its unfinished, with holes in the walls. In winter, its freezingmy pension doesnt stretch far enough to heat it all. Then Emily suggested, Sell your house, buy a studio, and give us the rest for a new flat. Then well think about children.
Do you understand what that means? She wants me, old and weakened, to cram into a shoebox while they take the best for themselves. And who knowsmaybe theyd even push me into a care home later. At first, I considered agreeingif theyd help me with a bit of money each month. But now? Never. With someone like Emily, you must be on guardshes capable of anything.
After that talk, William visited me a few times. He gently hinted that her idea wasnt so bad: Why do you need a big house? A flat would be simpler, with lower bills. I stood firm: The citys growing. In five or ten years, this house will be worth more. My land isnt on the outskirts anymoreselling now would be foolish. One day, I proposed a trade: they could live in my house, and Id take their flat. After all, its the same, isnt it? But Emily refused. She didnt like that the house needed work, that itd cost money, while Id live comfortably in their ready-made flat. She wants luxury, even if my offer makes more sense. Thats just how she isno changing it.
Then I fell ill. Seriously illfever, cough, splitting headaches. Bedridden, I called William, begging him to bring groceries and medicine. I knew they were busy, but I couldnt even boil water. Once, Id have never imagined hed hesitate to come. But now? He arrived the next day, made me some Lemsip, left an out-of-date packet of aspirin on the table, shrugged, and left. Luckily, a friend saved mebrought soup, proper medicine, everything I needed. What if she hadnt? What would have become of me?
William was my light, my rock, all my life. I trusted him completelyhe was more than a son, he was a friend, a part of me. But marriage erased it all. Weve become strangers, and I cant change that. Hes my only child, my love, my prideyet now I see his heart isnt with me anymore. He chose her. Emily stands between us like a wall, and Im left on the other sidealone, abandoned, useless. My mind says the bond is broken. Its time for him to choosehis mother or his wife. And the choice is as clear as day. But my heart still hopes hell remember what I was to him, that hell come back. Yet every day, that hope fades like snow in foreign sun.
