She was 32, and her 12-year-old daughter had just married her new 22-year-old husband. The girl was 12, he was 22, and her mother was 32. Yesterday, he became her mothers husband. They broke the news to her today.
The girl locked herself in her room and didnt come out all day. They called for herher mother approached the door, suggesting a trip to the cinema, an amusement park, a walk, or visiting friends. No response. Curled up on her bed, she cried at first, then fell asleep. Later, she lay staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. By evening, hunger finally drove her out.
It took years for her to adjust. She met her mothers every word with suspicion, watched them together with contempt, turned insolent, rude, boiling with hatred. Her mothers younger sister tried to talk to her, but she refused to listen. She often thought of running away. Once, she didhiding in a neighbours house, shivering on the attic steps until the cold forced her to her aunts.
When her mother came to fetch her, the girl was already warmed and fed. Her mothers hands trembled slightly, her eyes brimming with tears. She had come alone.
They took a taxi home. The girl studied her mothers profileshe looked older now. But him? He was still handsome. Then, mysteriously, he vanished for a whole month. The girl never asked, and her mother never explained, but the house returned to normal, just the two of them again. Slowly, they mended things, and the girl calmed down.
But then he came backher mothers young husband. The girl grew used to his presence, realising he was now part of their lives. At 18, over lunch, she passed him a knife across the table, deliberately holding his hand longer than necessary. She stared straight into his eyes, and he held her gaze. Her mother went pale and looked down. The meal ended in silence.
Another day, when her mother was out, she pressed her forehead against his back, holding her breath. He froze for a moment, then turned, gently pushed her away, gripping her shoulders. Dont be stupid, he said. She burst into hysterical tears. Why her? Shes old, she has wrinklescant you see? Why choose an old woman?
He handed her a glass of water, tucked a blanket around her, then left, slamming the door. She cried, knowing she had to move outfind a dorm or a flat. Shed been tossed aside like a stray kitten. Humiliated.
He was so beautiful. She dreamed of him. He didnt come home, and her mother stayed silent. They drifted through the house like ghosts.
When he finally returned days later, her mother wasnt there. The girl sat in the kitchen, scribbling notes, sipping tea. He walked in and sat opposite her, her heart seizing. Tired, he met her eyes. I love your mother. Accept it. Its her, not you. We cant keep hurting each other. He didnt look away.
That night, she lay dry-eyed, numb. The next morning, she caught him and her mother kissing in the kitchen. Nauseated, she ran to the bathroom.
She found a dorm room. Her mother begged her to return, then later gave her money for a flat.
At 25, him 35, her mother 45against all odds, things settled. She visited, they shared meals, even laughed. Her mothers sister said, Thank God you grew up. Her mum was content, her husband still striking. Too striking. She realised she compared every suitor to him, and hated herself for it.
Then came a failed affaira married man who wouldnt leave his wife. She loved him, waited outside his work, cried. She refused to be his secret. It was painful, bitter. He took her to the seaside, bought gifts, asked if that wasnt enoughwhy must love mean marriage? To him, domestic life was dull.
She shook her head stubbornly. She remembered her mother kissing him in the kitchen, herself fleeing to vomit. She hadnt understood love could be peaceful. Real.
That year, she was adrift. Rarely home, she bumped into her mother in cafés, visited occasionally. Her mother had thinned, still elegant. Her husband, ever charming. Now grown, the girl finally grasped the depth of her mothers love.
At 28, him 38, her mother 48a job offer in another city came. Or maybe shed sought it, fleeing exhaustingShe packed her bags, stepped onto the train without looking back, and wondered if shed ever stop searching for a love that could never be hers.
