15th September
I have two children, each with a different father. My eldest is my daughter, Emily, whos now 16. Emilys father pays child support and keeps in regular touch with her. Even though my first husband has remarried and has two more children with his new wife, hes never forgotten about Emily.
My son, on the other hand, has never been that fortunate. Two years ago, my second husband fell ill and, just three days later, passed away in hospital. It still doesnt feel real, and I catch myself waiting for him to walk through our front door with a smile, wishing me a good day. On those days, I cant help but cry for hours.
All through those hardest moments, my late husbands mother, Margaret, stood by my side. It was every bit as devastating for her, losing her only son. Together, we managed to endure. We supported each other, calling regularly, visiting when possible, always reminiscing about him. We became close, a real source of comfort for one another, almost like friends.
At one stage, we even considered living together, but Margaret changed her mind. Seven years have gone by, and throughout, our relationship has been wonderfullike two old friends.
I remember when I found out I was pregnant with my son, Margaret once made a passing comment about paternity tests. Shed been watching some TV programme where a man had unknowingly raised a child that wasnt his, and found out years later. I told her straight away it was nonsense.
If a mans got doubts about whether its his child, hell never be a proper fatherjust a Sunday Dad at best!
Margaret said she trusted that I was carrying her sons child. I expected back then she might press for a paternity test when he was born, but she never said another word.
This summer, things changed drastically. Margaret fell seriously ill, her health declined rapidly, and we agreed she should move nearer to me for support. We spoke to an estate agent and began searching for a flat she could buy.
But then Margaret ended up in hospital. Since she couldnt go herself, I went to her flat to find her late husbands death certificatea document we needed for the estate agent. As I rifled through her papers, I stumbled across something I never expected to see: a paternity test result. When my son had been just two months old, Margaret had had the test done herself. It confirmed he was her sons child.
I felt completely betrayed. She had obviously never fully trusted me, all this time! I confronted her right away. Margaret broke down with apologies, swearing she regretted it and had acted out of foolishness. But I cant let go of the hurt. For years, shed kept this from me, and it feels like a knife in the back.
Now I find myself unwilling to help her anymore, even though I know shes got no one else left to care for her. I dont want to cut her off from my sonhe needs his grandmotherand so Ill continue to look after her as best I can. But the warmth and trust we once had is gone forever.
Today I realised: sometimes even the strongest friendships can be shattered by hidden doubts. Trust, once lost, can never be rebuilt quite the same.
