Because grief was terrible, but realizing I’d failed my wife while she was still alive felt even worse.
***
Three days later, my mother showed up at the house.
I opened the door halfway and saw that she looked exhausted from crying.
“Please let me explain.”
“You already did.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
“Your wife turned you against your own family long before I did anything.”
That sentence changed everything for me.
“Please let me explain.”
For the first time, I finally saw who my mother really was beneath the sweet grandmother act.
She’d never fully approved of Sarah, though she’d hidden it well for years. Losing my father was probably what finally pushed her over the edge.
“You tried to destroy my marriage while Sarah was getting sick,” I said quietly.
“I never touched her,” my mother snapped immediately.
Truthfully, part of me had wondered whether she had somehow caused Sarah’s illness.
She’d never fully approved of Sarah.
But standing there, looking at my mother, I realized something worse. She could ruin Sarah without laying a hand on her. Months of stress, manipulation, and emotional pressure had already done enough damage.
“I can’t trust you around my children anymore.”
My mother’s face crumpled instantly. Then anger replaced the sadness.
“You’ll regret this, Daniel!”
“No,” I said firmly. “I regret not trusting my wife.”