The day my son brought his girlfriend home for the first time was supposed to be a happy one. It was supposed to be a milestone, a moment we would all look back on fondly.
The house was quiet, filled with the kind of stillness that only came late at night. I was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters for the third time, unable to shake the nervous energy buzzing inside me.
Footsteps padded softly behind me.
“Mom?” Ryan’s voice was soft, hesitant. “You still up? Why?”
I turned to find him leaning against the doorway, barefoot, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His hair was slightly damp from his shower, sticking up in uneven tufts. He still dried it the same careless way he had as a kid.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted. “So, I thought I’d clean the kitchen. What about you?”
“Same,” he exhaled a small, nervous laugh. “But I wasn’t about to clean. I took a shower, thinking it might help.”
I gestured toward the fridge. “Ice cream?”
His lips twitched. “We still have the good kind?”
“Excuse me, sir,” I said, grinning. “Like your mother would have anything else? Do you even have to ask?”
I grabbed the tub of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream, holding it up. “Good enough for you, kid?”
He grinned, taking out two spoons from the cupboard.
We settled at the kitchen table, passing the tub back and forth between us.
“She’s really special, Mom,” Ryan said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “The girl I’m dating, I mean. I just got off a call with her.”
“I can tell,” I smiled. “You’ve been buzzing lately. I’m glad you’re happy. It’s difficult to find your person before your thirties. Especially when you’re still in college.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know what it is… but it’s different with Sophie. I care about her. Not just in a dating way, but like… I want her to be part of my world, you know?”
Ryan had always been independent, never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Seeing him like this, soft, open, and vulnerable, made my chest ache in the best way.
“She’s lucky to have you,” I said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “When am I going to meet her?”
“I’m thinking… tomorrow?” he said hopefully. “But no sappy stuff when she gets here.”
I laughed, tossing a napkin at him. “Fine, but I’m really excited to meet her.”
“You’re going to love her. The only weird thing about her is that she loves Brussels sprouts. With bacon,” he grinned.
And in that moment, he looked so young. So sure.
I didn’t know that by this time tomorrow, his entire world—our entire world—would shatter.
The following day, I spent most of the afternoon preparing a grand meal just for Sophie. I made all of Ryan’s favorites, making sure to include Sophie’s Brussels sprouts too. I wanted everything to be perfect because I knew how much this moment meant to him.
“She’s special, Mom. I just know you’ll love her.”
And I did.
From the moment Sophie walked in, she was lovely. A beautiful, polite, sweet, and maybe a little shy girl. She helped me carry dishes to the table without being asked, complimented the décor, gave tummy rubs to our dog, and even laughed at my attempt to embarrass Ryan with his baby pictures.
For the first thirty minutes, everything was perfect.
Then, she saw the photo.
It was just a framed picture on the shelf. One of the few I had of all three of us together. Ryan, my husband Thomas, and me. It had been taken last year on vacation, a rare moment when Thomas wasn’t working or traveling.
Sophie’s entire face changed.
Her posture went rigid, her smile vanishing so fast it was as if someone had flipped a switch.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she placed her fork down.
“Sweetheart, are you okay? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” I asked.
Sophie swallowed, glancing between Ryan and me as if debating something. Then, she took a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry… but I need to tell you something.”
A strange coldness settled over me.
Sophie turned to Ryan, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “This man…” she pointed to my husband in the photo, her voice shaking. “I know him.”
Ryan let out a confused laugh. “Yeah! That’s my dad! I’m sorry you haven’t had a chance to meet him yet. But he’s always working. It’s usually just Mom and me.”
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. “No, you don’t understand. Ryan…”
A pit formed in my stomach.
“What, Sophie? What’s going on?” Ryan asked her.
She looked at me, her voice breaking. “He’s been having an affair with my mother. For the past four years…”
The room spun.
I gripped the edge of the table, trying to make sense of the words.
“No,” I murmured. “That… that’s not possible. It can’t be!”
Sophie’s hands clenched into fists. “He lives with us… He comes back from his ‘business trips’ to our house. My mom… she thinks they’re building a future together. And… Mom is pregnant.”
Silence.
A thick silence took over the room.
Ryan’s chair screeched against the floor as he backed away. His face twisted in horror, his hands tugging at his hair. “No. No, that’s… This is insane.”
I turned to Sophie. “Where do you live?”
“You… you want to go to my house?”
“Yes,” I said, already grabbing my coat.
Ryan’s face darkened. “I’m coming with you.”
“Me too,” Sophie said. “I’m so sorry.”
The drive felt surreal. My knuckles were white against the steering wheel. When we pulled up to the house, I felt like I was staring into another life.
Then, the door opened.
Thomas stood there, fresh from the shower, a towel slung around his neck. He smiled. Actually smiled.
Until he realized it was me.
His face drained of color. “Laura,” he choked out.
I crossed my arms. “So, what kind of business trip did you have this time, Thomas?”
A woman appeared behind him, mid-forties, pregnant, confused. “Honey, who’s at the door? Is Soph home?”
Sophie stiffened behind me. “Mom.”
Her mother looked between us, her confusion turning to concern. “Who is this?”
I smiled coldly. “Hi, I’m Laura. Thomas’s wife.”
Her mother let out a ragged breath and took a shaky step back. “No. No. No! He said he was never married!”
Sophie’s voice trembled. “You lied?”
Thomas turned to me. “Laura, please. I never meant—”
I held up a hand. “You don’t get to speak.”
Ryan’s voice, broken and raw, cut through the silence. “You’re dead to me.”
I turned to Sophie’s mother. “I suggest you kick him out. Because as of right now? He’s your problem.”
Then, I walked away.
And I never looked back.
