**A Mother’s Rejection**
*”You brought misery to our family!”* my mother screamed at me, her voice sharp as glass.
*”Mum, you’re back! I missed you so much! Will we be together now?”* I trembled with hope, rushing toward her.
*”No. You’re staying with Gran,”* Anna snapped, pushing me away as if I were nothing to her.
It had been two years since she last visited me in our quiet Yorkshire town. Her stare was icy, her words filled with hate. Left in my grandmother’s care, I had waited, desperate for her love—only for this meeting to shatter me.
*”Why?”* I whispered, fighting tears.
*”Because your birth ruined everything! Your father is dead because of you!”* Her words cut deep, leaving a wound that would never heal.
Anna and Paul had been inseparable since their school days. Their love seemed unbreakable—dreaming of a future together, planning their lives, unable to spend a day apart. They married right after university, and Paul took a high-paying job on the oil rigs. Soon, they bought a house in Yorkshire. When Anna found out she was pregnant, Paul was overjoyed. He doted on her, chose the best maternity hospital, even painted the nursery himself. Their lives were full of promise.
But fate was cruel.
Days after my birth, Anna prepared to leave the hospital. Paul, beaming with pride, decorated the house, bought flowers, and set off to collect his wife and newborn daughter. He never made it. A horrific crash took his life. Paramedics tried, but it was too late. Anna was left alone, clutching a baby she couldn’t bear to look at.
Her friend tried to soften the blow, spinning lies to distract her. But the truth came at home. Gran, weeping, told Anna about the accident. Grief-stricken, Anna stormed into the nursery—the one Paul had lovingly prepared—and wrecked it, tearing at curtains, hurling toys, screaming in agony. Her world had ended.
After the funeral, she could hardly stand the sight of me. Gran, Margaret, took over, raising me as her own. Anna forced herself to tend to me, but her heart was hollow—nothing but anger and emptiness. She blamed me for Paul’s death, as if my birth had cursed them.
One day, when Gran came to visit, Anna finally broke.
*”It’s her fault!”* she sobbed. *”She destroyed everything! I hate her!”*
*”Anna, stop this!”* Gran pleaded. *”We have to live for her. She’s innocent!”*
But Anna was lost in her grief, building a wall of hatred between us.
Two years later, she found work. Gran helped as much as she could, but when Anna got a promotion, she started travelling. Soon, she asked Gran to take me in. Grateful, Gran agreed. At first, Anna visited occasionally, taking me for weekends. Then the visits grew rare. Eventually, she vanished altogether.
Money arrived in Gran’s account, but Anna never called. I cried for her, begged to see her, but Gran made excuses. *”Mum’s away for work. She’ll be back soon.”* Once, Gran went to her house—but Anna slammed the door in her face.
Years passed. Anna showed up on my birthday.
She walked in, handed me a coldly wrapped gift, and stood stiffly as I threw my arms around her.
*”Mum, you’re here! Can I come home now?”* My heart raced.
*”Nothing’s changed,”* she said, recoiling. *”You’re staying here.”*
*”Why?”* My voice cracked.
*”Because you’re bad luck. Your father died because of you.”*
Gran couldn’t stay silent.
*”Anna, that’s enough! How can you say that to a child?”*
Anna stared at her, eerily calm.
*”I remarried,”* she said. *”And I’m pregnant. I came to legally give her up.”*
*”You’d abandon your own daughter?”* Gran gasped.
*”I can’t love her,”* Anna said softly. *”Forgive me.”*
Then she left.
The legal papers arrived soon after. Gran became my guardian. Whenever I asked about Anna, she stayed quiet, unable to tell me the truth. Years later, I learned the reason—my mother blamed me for my father’s death. I cried for days. But after that, I never asked about her again.
Some hearts, once broken, never truly heal.
