\n\n\n\n\nA man driving a car | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n
I couldn\u2019t wait to see Suzie\u2019s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I\u2019d cooked, the photos I\u2019d framed for the mantle. She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother\u2019s opinions.\n\n\n\n
It was the culmination of every dream I\u2019d had for us.\n\n\n\n
I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie\u2019s room. But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise.\n\n\n\n A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n My daughters were sleeping in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. I thought she might have stepped out for fresh air, but then I saw the note. I tore it open, my hands trembling.\n\n\n\n \u201cGoodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.\u201d\n\n\n\n The world blurred as I reread it. And reread it. The words didn\u2019t shift, didn\u2019t morph into something less terrible. A coldness prickled along my skin, freezing me in place.\n\n\n\n A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n What the hell did she mean? Why would she\u2026 no. This couldn\u2019t be happening. Suzie was happy. She\u2019d been happy. Hadn\u2019t she?\n\n\n\n A nurse carrying a clipboard entered the room. \u201cGood morning, sir, here\u2019s the discharge \u2014\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cWhere\u2019s my wife?\u201d I interrupted.\n\n\n\n The nurse hesitated, biting her lip. \u201cShe checked out this morning. She said you knew.\u201d\n\n\n\n A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels\n\n\n\n \u201cShe \u2014 where did she go?\u201d I stammered to the nurse, waving the note. \u201cDid she say anything else? Was she upset?\u201d\n\n\n\n The nurse frowned. \u201cShe seemed fine. Just\u2026 quiet. Are you saying you didn\u2019t know?\u201d\n\n\n\n I shook my head. \u201cShe said nothing\u2026 just left me this note.\u201d\n\n\n\n I left the hospital in a daze, cradling my daughters, the note crumpled in my fist.\n\n\n\n A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n Suzie was gone. My wife, my partner, the woman I\u2019d thought I knew, had vanished without a word of warning. All I had were two tiny girls, my shattered plans, and that ominous message.\n\n\n\n When I pulled into the driveway, my mom, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, beaming and holding a casserole dish. The scent of cheesy potatoes wafted toward me, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside.\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, let me see my grandbabies!\u201d she exclaimed, setting the dish aside and rushing toward me. \u201cThey\u2019re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.\u201d\n\n\n\n An excited woman | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. \u201cNot yet, Mom.\u201d\n\n\n\n Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d\n\n\n\n I shoved the note in her direction. \u201cThis is what\u2019s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?\u201d\n\n\n\n Her smile vanished, and she took the note with shaking fingers. Her pale blue eyes scanned the words, and for a moment, she looked like she might faint.\n\n\n\n A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n \u201cBen, I don\u2019t know what this is about,\u201d Mom replied. \u201cShe\u2019s\u2026 she\u2019s always been emotional. Maybe she \u2014\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t lie to me!\u201d The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls. \u201cYou\u2019ve never liked her. You\u2019ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her \u2014\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ve only ever tried to help!\u201d Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks.\n\n\n\n I turned away, my gut churning. I couldn\u2019t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.\n\n\n\n A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n That night, after settling Callie and Jessica in their cribs, I sat at the kitchen table with the note in one hand and a whiskey in the other. My mother\u2019s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn\u2019t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom?\n\n\n\n I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie\u2019s way. Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her.\n\n\n\n I started digging, both literally and metaphorically.\n\n\n\n A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n My sorrow and longing for my missing wife deepened as I looked through her things. I found her jewelry box in the closet and set it aside, then noticed a slip of paper peeking out beneath the lid.\n\n\n\n When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother\u2019s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:\n\n\n\n \u201cSuzie, you\u2019ll never be good enough for my son. You\u2019ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don\u2019t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you\u2019ll leave before you ruin their lives.\u201d\n\n\n\n A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it. This was why she\u2019d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I\u2019d dismissed as harmless. How blind had I been?\n\n\n\n It was almost midnight, but I didn\u2019t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.\n\n\n\n \u201cHow could you?\u201d I waved the letter in her face. \u201cAll this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you\u2019ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\n\n An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n Her face paled as she scanned the letter. \u201cBen, listen to me \u2014\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cNo!\u201d I cut her off. \u201cYou listen to me. Suzie left because of you. Because you made her feel worthless. And now she\u2019s gone, and I\u2019m here trying to raise two babies on my own.\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cI only wanted to protect you,\u201d she whispered. \u201cShe wasn\u2019t good enough \u2014\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cShe\u2019s the mother of my children! You don\u2019t get to decide who\u2019s good enough for me or them. You\u2019re done here, Mom. Pack your things. Get out.\u201d\n\n\n\n A man pointing | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n Her tears fell freely now. \u201cYou don\u2019t mean that.\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cI do,\u201d I said, cold as steel.\n\n\n\n She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. The look in my eyes must have told her I wasn\u2019t bluffing. She left an hour later, her car disappearing down the street.\n\n\n\n The next weeks were hell.\n\n\n\n A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n Between sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless crying (sometimes the babies, sometimes me) I barely had time to think.\n\n\n\n But every quiet moment brought Suzie back to my mind. I contacted her friends and family, hoping for any hint of where she might be. None of them had heard from her. But one, her college friend Sara, hesitated before speaking.\n\n\n\n \u201cShe talked about feeling\u2026 trapped,\u201d Sara admitted over the phone. \u201cNot by you, Ben, but by everything. The pregnancy, your mom. She told me once that Mandy said the twins would be better off without her.\u201d\n\n\n\n A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n The knife twisted deeper. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t she tell me my mom was saying these things to her?\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cShe was scared, Ben. She thought Mandy might turn you against her. I told her to talk to you, but\u2026\u201d Sara\u2019s voice cracked. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I should\u2019ve pushed harder.\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cDo you think she\u2019s okay?\u201d\n\n\n\n \u201cI hope so,\u201d Sara said quietly. \u201cSuzie\u2019s stronger than she thinks. But Ben\u2026 keep looking for her.\u201d\n\n\n\n Weeks turned into months.\n\n\n\n A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n One afternoon, while Callie and Jessica napped, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unlisted number.\n\n\n\n When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a photo of Suzie, holding the twins at the hospital, her face pale but serene. Beneath it was a message:\n\n\n\n \u201cI wish I was the type of mother they deserve. I hope you forgive me.\u201d\n\n\n\n I called the number immediately, but it didn\u2019t go through.\n\n\n\n A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n I texted back, but my messages didn\u2019t go through either. It was like shouting into a void. But the photo reignited my determination. Suzie was out there. She was alive and at least a part of her still longed for us, even though she was clearly still in a bad place. I\u2019d never give up on her.\n\n\n\n A year passed with no leads or clues to Suzie\u2019s whereabouts. The twins\u2019 first birthday was bittersweet. I\u2019d poured everything into raising them, but the ache for Suzie never left.\n\n\n\n That evening, as the girls played in the living room, there was a knock at the door.\n\n\n\n A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels\n\n\n\n I thought I was dreaming at first. Suzie stood there, clutching a small gift bag, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked healthier, her cheeks were fuller, and her posture was more confident. But the sadness was still there, hovering behind her smile.\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she whispered.\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t think. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. She sobbed into my shoulder, and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.\n\n\n\n A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n Over the following weeks, Suzie told me how the postpartum depression, my mom\u2019s cruel words, and her feelings of inadequacy had overwhelmed her.\n\n\n\n She\u2019d left to protect the twins and to escape the spiral of self-loathing and despair. Therapy had helped her rebuild, one painstaking step at a time.\n\n\n\n \u201cI didn\u2019t want to leave,\u201d she said one night, sitting on the nursery floor as the girls slept. \u201cBut I didn\u2019t know how to stay.\u201d\n\n\n\n A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n I took her hand. \u201cWe\u2019ll figure it out. Together.\u201d\n\n\n\n And we did. It wasn\u2019t easy \u2014 healing never is. But love, resilience, and the shared joy of watching Callie and Jessica grow were enough to rebuild what we\u2019d almost lost.\n\n\n\n Here\u2019s another story: Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband\u2019s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions. Click here to keep reading.\n\n\n\n This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.\n\n\n\n The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided \u201cas is,\u201d and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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