I thought my daughter led a happy life until my visit to her home.
When Aurélie told us she was marrying a man eight years her senior, we didnt object. He made a good first impressionpolished, courteous, attentive. Grégoire knew how to be liked. He showered our daughter with tender gestures: flowers, trips, gifts. And when he announced he would cover every wedding expensethe restaurant, the dress, the videographers, the décorI nearly cried. We were convinced our little girl was in safe hands.
*He runs his own business, dear, dont worry,* Aurélie would say. *Hes comfortable, he has everything under control.*
Six months after the ceremony, Grégoire visited us with Aurélie. He walked through our flat without saying a word. The next day, technicians arrived to take measurements. A week later, builders showed up. Soon our aging Rouen apartment boasted luxurious quintupleglazed, soundproof windows. Then the balcony was redone, an airconditioner installed, even the tiles were replaced.
My husband and I thanked him, bewildered, but he brushed off our gratitude with a wave: *Small things. For my wifes parents, nothing is too grand.* Of course, it pleased us. How could we not be delighted to see our daughter living comfortably, cherished, with such a caring husband?
Then their first child was born. Everything seemed lifted from a film: the hospital discharge with balloons, a cute onesie, lacetrimmed swaddles, a photographereverything was lavish. My husband and I smiled, softened: *There they are, a happy family.*
Two years later, a second child arrived. Again came gifts and visitors, but Aurélie seemed dimmed. Her eyes were tired, her smile forced. At first I blamed postpartum fatiguetwo kids arent easy. Yet with each phone call I sensed she was hiding something.
I decided to pay them a visit. I warned them beforehand. I arrived one evening. Grégoire wasnt home. Aurélie greeted me without enthusiasm; the children played in their room, and I hugged them tightly. My heart liftedgrandchildren, after all. When the kids settled in front of cartoons, I asked my daughter gently:
Aurélie, my dear, whats wrong?
She flinched, stared into the distance, then forced a tight smile:
Everythings fine, Mom. Im just tired.
Its more than fatigue. Youve become distant. You no longer laugh, your eyes look sad. I know you, Aurélie. Tell me the truth.
She hesitated. Just then the front door slammedGrégoire was coming home. Upon seeing me he made a barely perceptible grimace. He smiled and greeted me, but his eyes were cold, as if I were an intrusion. Thats when I noticed the scentoverly sweet, unmistakably feminine, a French womens perfume that didnt suit him.
When he shed his coat, a pink lipstick mark appeared on his collar. I couldnt help but say, clearly:
Grégoire were you really at the office?
He froze for a moment, then straightened, gave me an icy, almost brutal stare, and replied:
Jacqueline, with all due respect, stay out of our marriage. Yes, there is another woman, but that means nothing. For a man of my standing, its common. Aurélie knows. It doesnt change our family. We wont divorce. The children, my wifeeverything is under control. I support them, Im here. So dont linger on details like lipstick.
I clenched my teeth. Aurélie rose, retreated to the childrens bedroom, eyes downcast. He headed for a shower as if nothing had happened. My heart shattered with helplessness. I went to my daughter, held her close, and whispered:
Aurélie do you think this is normal? That he sleeps with someone else while you endure it? Is this what a family looks like?
She shrugged and began to sob, quietly, as if the tears flowed on their own. I stroked her back without words. I had so much to say, but it was futile. The choice was hers: stay with a man who believes money justifies betrayal, or choose herself.
She was trapped in that *golden cage,* where everything seemed perfect on the surfaceexcept respect. And genuine love, the kind without lies or contempt.
I left into the night. Back home I couldnt sleep; my heart was torn. I wanted to take her and the children and run away. Yet I knew that until she decided, nothing would change. All I could do was be present, wait, and hope that someday Aurélie would choose herself.
