After his wife and mates betrayed him, wealthy businessman Jonathan returned to his hometown. At his mothers grave, he froze in shock.
Jonathan pulled over his car. How many times had he planned to visit, but never found the time? He hadnt been there for his mum while she was alivenot even after she passed. The thought filled him with disgust for himself. It wouldnt have taken much to shake him awake, to make him see the hollow life hed built. None of it meant a thing. In a way, he was grateful to Emily, his ex-wife, for ripping off the blindfold.
Everything had crumbled in an instanthis picture-perfect marriage, his so-called friendships. Turned out his wife and best mate had been cheating on him, and the others knew and said nothing. Total betrayal. After the divorce, Jonathan drove back to his hometown. Eight years had passed since the funeral, and hed never once visited her grave. Only now did it hit himhis mum had been the one person whod never let him down.
Hed married late, at 33, to Emily, who was 25. God, hed been so proud to have her on his armelegant, refined. Later, when she screamed in his face that shed hated every minute of their marriage, that being with him was torture, he realised how blind hed been. Her twisted, furious face looked like some grotesque mask. And yet, hed almost caved. Emily had sobbed so convincingly, begging for forgiveness, saying he was always too busy, leaving her alone.
But when he stood firm on the divorce, her true colours showed. Now, Jonathan stepped out of the car with a massive bouquet. He walked slowly through the cemetery. After all these years, he expected overgrown weedshe hadnt even come when they put up the headstone. Everything had been arranged online. Life just slipped by.
To his surprise, the grave was immaculatenot a single weed. Someone had cared for it. Who? Maybe one of Mums old friends. They were probably still around. Couldnt her son bother to visit? He unlatched the little gate. “Hey, Mum,” he whispered. His throat tightened, eyes stinging. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
Jonathanthe tough, successful entrepreneur who never criedwas sobbing like a child. And he didnt want to stop. It felt like his soul was scrubbed clean, washing away Emily and all the other failures. Like his mum was gently stroking his hair, whispering, “There, there. Itll be alright, youll see.” He sat in silence a long time, talking to her in his head, remembering skinned knees and her dabbing them with antiseptic, blowing on them. “All my boys scraped their knees. Theyll healnot a mark left.” And they always did. Each time, the pain hurt less.
“You get used to anythinganything but betrayal,” she used to say. Now he understood. Back then, it just sounded like words. His mum had raised him alone, never coddling him, just shaping him into a decent man.
No idea how long he sat theredidnt care to check. For the first time in ages, he felt peace. He decided to stay in town a few days, sort out Mums house. Sure, he could afford to pay a neighbour to keep an eye on it, but how long would it sit empty? He smiled, remembering meeting her daughter. Back when hed arranged for the house to be watched, hed met Charlotte. Hed been in such a dark place then, bitter and broken. Charlotte had been kind. Theyd talked one evening, and things just happened. In the morning, he left, scribbling where to leave the key.
Maybe hed looked like a right prat in her eyes. But hed made no promises. It was mutual. Charlotte had come home after divorcing her abusive husband. Shed told him as much. Both of them hurting. And then just like that.
“Mister, can you help me?” A little voice snapped him back. He turned to see a girl, maybe seven or eight, holding an empty bucket.
“I need water for the flowers. Me and Mum just planted them, but shes poorly today. Its so hottheyll wilt. The taps close, but the buckets too heavy. I dont want Mum knowing I came here alone. If I carry tiny bits, itll take ages, and shell figure it out.”
Jonathan grinned. “Course. Show me where.”
The girl chattered nonstop as they walked. Five minutes in, he knew everythinghow shed warned her mum not to drink cold water in the heat, how her mum got sick anyway. Lily had come to her grandmas grave, whod passed a year ago. Gran wouldve told Mum off, and she wouldnt be ill now. Oh, and Lily was in Year Two, dreaming of acing school with straight As.
Jonathan felt lighter. Kids were so pure. Right then, he realised hed have been happy with a simple lifea loving wife, a kid waiting for him after work. Emily? Like some expensive doll, refusing to even discuss children. “Youd have to be daft to ruin your figure for a screaming brat,” shed said. Five years married. Not one warm memory.
He set the bucket down, and Lily carefully watered the flowers. Jonathan glanced at the headstoneand froze. The photo was his neighbour, the one whod watched Mums house. Charlottes mum. He stared at the girl. “Margaret was your gran?”
“Yeah. Did you know her?”
“Waityou tend her grave?”
“Me and Mum. We always tidy up and bring flowers.”
“You and your mum?” Jonathan frowned.
“Yeah, Mum. I told youshe doesnt let me come alone.”
Lily picked up the bucket. “Id better run. Shell ask loads of questions, and Im rubbish at lying.”
“Wait, Ill drive you.”
She shook her head. “Mum says never get in cars with strangers. I dont want to upset hershes poorly.”
With a quick goodbye, she dashed off. Jonathan returned to his mums grave, sitting deep in thought. Something wasnt right. Charlotte had only been visitingnow it seemed she lived here. With a daughter.
Hed had no idea she had a kid. How old was Lily? Maybe Charlotte remarried. After a while, he stood. Probably Charlotte was watching the house now, and hed been paying her.
Didnt matter who he paid. He drove to the house. His chest ached. The place hadnt changed. Like any second, Mum would step onto the porch, wiping her eyes with her apron before hugging him. Jonathan sat in the car a long time. She didnt come out.
Finally, he walked in. Bloody helleven the garden was thriving. Neat, cared for. Good on Charlotte. Hed have to thank her. Inside, the house gleamedlike someone lived there and just stepped out. He sat at the table, then stood. Best see the neighbour first. Sort things out, then rest.
Lily answered the door. “Oh, its you!” She pressed a finger to her lips. “Dont tell Mum, yeah? About the cemetery.”
Jonathan mimed locking his mouth, making her giggle.
“Come in,” Charlotte called from inside. “Im better, but dont get too closedont want you catching it.”
Her eyes widened when she saw him. “You?”
Jonathan smiled. “Hey.” He glanced around. “Husband here?” Though he already knew the answer.
“Jonathan, I I never told you about your mum passing. Jobs are scarce here, so Ive been watching the house.”
“Sorry about your mum, Char. And the house thanks. Feels like she just popped out. Everythings spot on. You staying long?”
“Just a few days.”
“Thinking of selling the house?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Havent decided.” He pulled out an envelope. “This is for you. A bonus, like.” He set down a thick wad of cash.
“Jonathan, no!”
Lily beamed. “Thanks, Uncle Jon! Mum wants a new dress, and I need a bike.”
He laughed. “Good girl.” Just like him as a kidnever let money slip by.
That evening, Jonathan realised he was ill. Fever spiking. He found Mums old thermometer, took his temp, and panicked. No clue what to take. He texted Charlotte: “What do I take for fever?”
Ten minutes later, she and Lily were at his door.
“God, whyd you even go inside? Did I get you sick?”
“Youre the one whos ill!”
“Im fine now.”
Charlotte handed him pills; Lily made tea.
“Shell burn herself.”
“Who? Lily? Nah, more like me. Shes ace at this.”
Jonathan smiled. Something clicked in his headlike when he was a kid. Then
