I lost the will to help my mother-in-law when I found out what she had done. But I can’t leave her on her own, either.
I have two children. They have different fathers. My first child is my daughter. Emily is sixteen years old now. Her father pays maintenance for her and keeps in regular contact. Though my first husband is now remarried and has two more children from his second marriage, he has never forgotten our daughter.
My son, however, hasnt been as fortunate. Two years ago, my second husband fell ill and then, just three days later, he passed away in hospital. Although some time has gone by, I still struggle to believe hes really gone. I often catch myself waiting for the front door to swing open, for him to walk in with his familiar smile and wish me a good day. It never happens, and the sorrow engulfs me all over again.
Throughout all this, Sarah, my late husband’s mother, did her best to be there for me. It was just as hard on her as it was on meafter all, my husband was her only son. We clung to one another, offering shoulders to cry on, keeping each other afloat through the worst of times. Wed telephone one another often, or call round for tea, or simply sit reminiscing about my husband.
At one point, we even discussed moving in together, but Sarah changed her mind, and the idea fizzled out. Seven years went by just like that, and we always got on splendidly. You might even say we were friends, not merely relatives by marriage.
I remember, back when I was expecting, Sarah brought up paternity tests, of all things. Shed seen something on the telly about a man raising another mans child for years, only to find out the truth later on. Without hesitation, I told her it was utter nonsense.
If a man starts doubting whether the child is his, he wont be there properlyhell become a Sunday dad at best! I protested.
She assured me she believed the baby was her sons through and through. I was convinced, once my son was born, that shed insist on a test, but to my surprise, she said nothing more about it.
This summer, Sarah fell gravely ill, and things took a turn for the worse. We decided it was best for her to move closer to me. We even found an estate agent and started searching for a flat for her.
Then she was admitted to hospital, and we needed her late husbands death certificate for the property agent. Sarah was in no condition to fetch it, so I drove to her place and began digging through her folders for the right papers.
Thats when I stumbled across another document that caught my eye. It was a paternity test. I immediately realised that, when my son was just two months old, Sarah had secretly arranged it, just to confirm he truly was her grandson.
I was appalled. All this time, Sarah had never truly trusted me! I didnt keep quiet about itI confronted her with what Id found. Now she apologises, telling me how foolish shed been and how very sorry she is. For all that, I cant seem to settle my own feelings. It feels like a betrayal, the fact she held her tongue for all these years.
These days, I find it hard to want to help her at all. Yet I know full well she has no one else to turn to.
I cant take a grandmother away from my son, so I continue to do what I can for Sarah. But the warmth and trust that once bound us has surely gone for good.
