I raised my son on my own. From the very first days of his life, he was my everything. I lived only for him. I didn’t buy myself clothes, I never allowed myself any days off, I don’t even remember the last time I slept peacefully – all just for him.
I worked around the clock: at the post office, as a cleaner, washing dishes in a café. Whenever people asked me why I sacrificed so much, I always answered: “I want my son to have everything I never had.”
I truly believed that one day, when I grew old, he would be by my side. That he would never leave me, never betray me. He used to say: “Mom, when I grow up, I’ll buy you a house and a car!” And I believed him. Because he was my boy.
But everything changed when a woman came into his life. From the very first glance, I knew – this woman would bring nothing good.
She looked at me with a cold, mocking smile. Not once did she address me by name. Not “Aunt,” not “Mom” – just “you.”
Right away, she began convincing my son that I was supposedly “holding back his development.” She shamed him for helping me and said:
— Why do you give your mother money? Let her work if she wants to eat.
— Stop dragging her everywhere. You have your own family now.
She spun intrigues, kept him from visiting me. To others, she said I was “manipulating” him, even though I only called from time to time to ask if he was okay.
Once, when I brought him a cake, she put it outside the door, saying:
— LET HIM WASH HIS HANDS FROM STRANGE KITCHENS FIRST BEFORE HE BRINGS FOOD.
He grew colder. With each passing day, I felt myself losing my son. And then – one morning – he said:
— Mom, I want to take you somewhere. You’ll just live there for a while. Rest.
There was no warmth in his voice, no care. I felt where he was taking me. But I went along. Because he was my child.
We drove for a long time. Farther and farther away from the city. Eventually, he stopped. A remote road. No houses, no people. Just sand and wind.
— Get out, he said.
I got out. He didn’t look me in the eyes. Silently, he closed the door and drove away, leaving me in the middle of nowhere.
Back then, I couldn’t even imagine that just one month later, my son would come back to beg for my forgiveness. 😢 But who needs that anymore?
I stood there and couldn’t believe it. It felt as if my heart had been torn out of my chest. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even cry. There was only silence and pain. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know how to keep living.
I just stood there and prayed to wake up from this nightmare.
A distant relative took me in. He lived alone in a village and gave me shelter. I didn’t call my son. I didn’t want to hear his voice.
A month passed. And then – he came.
HE FELL TO HIS KNEES IN FRONT OF ME AND CRIED LIKE A LITTLE CHILD.
It turned out that his girlfriend had betrayed him. She had cheated on him with his own friend. She had stolen almost all the money from their shared account. She had run away. And left him drowning in debt and shame.
He said that when he had abandoned me, he believed he was doing the right thing. That he was building a “new life.” But in reality, he destroyed everything.
He begged me to forgive him. Tears ran down his cheeks. He kissed my hands.
— Mom, forgive me… I forgot who truly loves me.
And I just looked at him and thought:
Do I even need this forgiveness?
