Ive lost the will to help my mother-in-law after discovering what she did. But I cant just abandon her either.
Im a father to two children, each with a different mum. My firstborn is a daughter, Emily, whos now sixteen. Emilys mum and I separated long ago, but Ive always paid her maintenance and kept in close contact with her. Even though my ex-wife remarried and now has two more children with her new husband, shes never neglected our daughter.
My son, Jonathan, on the other hand, hasnt been as fortunate. Two years ago, my second wife fell seriously ill and, after only three days in hospital, she passed away. Even now it seems unreal to me. Sometimes I catch myself thinking the door will open, and shell waltz in with that bright smile of hers, wishing me a good day. On those days, the tears dont stop.
In all this time, I found tremendous support in my late wifes mother, Margaret. It was just as hard for her as it was for meafter all, my wife was her only child. We held each other up, trying to patch ourselves together through the grief. We rang one another often, and made regular visits. Our conversations always seemed to circle back to my wife; it was as if speaking about her kept her memory alive.
There was a point when we even discussed moving in together just to keep each other company, but in the end Margaret changed her mind. Seven years have flown by now. Margaret and I always had a wonderful relationshipclose, as though we were family friends rather than simply relatives.
I remember when I first told Margaret that my wife was expecting a baby, she mentioned paternity tests out of the blue. I never quite understood why. Shed seen some programme on telly about a man raising a child who turned out not to be his, quite a dramatic affair. I told her, a bit huffily, that it was complete nonsense.
If a man doubts whether a child is his, hell never really care for that child, and will end up being a father in name only.
Margaret replied that she believed I was the real father, but deep down I always wondered if she secretly wanted to see a paternity test when the baby was born. But nothing more was ever said.
This past summer, Margarets health rapidly declined. We decided together that she should move closer to me so I could be there for her. I found an estate agent, and we started looking for a flat for her to buy.
Shortly after, Margaret was taken to hospital. I needed to provide the estate agent with my wifes death certificate, but Margaret was too unwell to help, so I went to her flat to look for the paperwork myself. I rummaged through her folder of documents searching for the certificate.
Thats when I found another documentone that left me completely gobsmacked. It was a paternity test. I found out that back when Jonathan was barely two months old, Margaret had secretly arranged for the test, which confirmed that he was my biological son.
I was fuming. All this time, it turned out Margaret had never fully trusted me! I confronted her about it, and she apologised, insistently repeating how sorry she was for her foolishness. But I cant seem to shake the feeling of betrayal; its as though the trust we had was based on a lie.
Now I feel so reluctant to help Margaret. But, at the same time, I know she has no one else to lean on.
I dont want to take my sons grandmother away from him. So I continue to help Margaret, but I know in my heart that the precious warmth and faith that once defined our relationship is gone forever.
Today, Ive learnt the hard way that trust, once broken, is painfully difficult to repaireven in the closest of families.
