My boyfriend left me when I was pregnant because his mother didn’t like me. I’ve raised my son alone for 17 years. Today, I ran into his mother. She burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “I’ve been looking for you all these years.” Who would have thought that knowing the reason would enrage me even more?
I never imagined that a simple turn around the corner at the market could shake up seventeen years of a carefully reconstructed life. I was rushing, my mind full of schedules, my son’s tutoring, and the bills I had to pay before the end of the month. Then I saw her. Unmistakable, even after all this time: the same neatly styled hair, the cold eyes that used to judge me from afar. But this time they weren’t cold. They were filled with tears.
