From the moment my mother discovered she was pregnant with me, her heart hardened. The doctor had told her it was too late to terminate the pregnancy, and she was devastated. My father was wealthy but not particularly attractive, and when I was born looking just like him, my mother’s disdain for me only deepened.
She had no desire to raise a child, especially one that reminded her of a man she didn’t love. Instead, she focused on finding a rich, handsome man who could provide her with the life she always dreamed of. It wasn’t long before she met Mike, a successful and attractive man who seemed to be everything she wanted. When he proposed, she eagerly accepted, but there was one problem—me.
Determined to keep me hidden, she tried to conceal my existence from Mike. But during one of his visits, I cried out from where she had hidden me in the pantry. Mike was shocked but kind. He didn’t judge her for having a child and instead offered to love me as his own. My mother was furious that her plan to rid herself of me had failed, but she had no choice but to go along with Mike’s wishes.
Life went on, and my mother and Mike got married. A year later, they had twins, who quickly became the center of my mother’s world. They were beautiful, like her, and she adored them. I, on the other hand, was a constant reminder of her past, and she made sure I knew how much she despised me.
As a child, all I wanted was my mother’s love, but instead, I was met with coldness and cruelty. She often screamed at me, calling me ugly and telling me that I should have been left in an orphanage. The twins followed her lead, taunting me and questioning if I was even their sister. My only solace was Mike, who treated me with kindness whenever he was around. But even his presence couldn’t protect me from my mother’s harsh words and actions when he wasn’t home.
When I turned 18, I finally had enough. I packed my things and left, maintaining contact only with Mike. He was the one person who had ever shown me any affection, and I loved him for it. But as time passed, even that small connection was threatened. One day, I called home and my mother answered. She informed me that Mike was in the hospital, gravely ill with stage three cancer. My heart sank as I rushed to be by his side.
At the hospital, I learned that Mike’s illness had taken a toll on both his health and finances. My mother, upon realizing that he was no longer the wealthy man she married, decided to abandon him. She coldly told me that she didn’t want to waste her time on a dying man and an unattractive daughter. Her words stung, but they also solidified my resolve to care for Mike in his final days.
I took a leave from university and found a part-time job to support us. Mike often asked why my mother and the twins never visited, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. Instead, I lied, telling him they were too sick to come. I wanted his last days to be peaceful, free from the pain of knowing the people he loved had abandoned him.
When Mike passed away, I was devastated, but my mother and the twins didn’t even attend the funeral. The only time I saw them afterward was when we were summoned to the lawyer’s office. My mother, expecting nothing, was shocked to learn that Mike had left everything to me. He had seen through her selfishness and ensured that I would be taken care of after he was gone.
Suddenly, my mother’s attitude towards me changed. She tried to reconcile, hoping to get her hands on Mike’s inheritance. But I wasn’t the same naive child who once craved her love. I saw through her, and I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with her. If she tried to contact me again, I warned her that I would involve the authorities.
Some people don’t deserve to be parents, and my mother was a perfect example of that. She may have given birth to me, but she never truly cared for me. It was Mike, a man with no biological connection to me, who showed me what it meant to be loved. In the end, life taught my mother a harsh lesson, and she was left with nothing but her regrets.
