My smile was unstoppable. Today, I was bringing home my girls! I couldn’t wait to see Suzie’s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I’d cooked, the photos I’d framed for the mantle.
She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother’s opinions. It was the culmination of every dream I’d had for us. I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie’s room.
But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise. 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. “Goodbye. Take care of them.
Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”
“They’re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.”
I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. “Not yet, Mom.”
Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. “What’s wrong?”
I shoved the note in her direction.
“This is what’s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?”
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.
“Ben, I don’t know what this is about,” Mom replied. “She’s… she’s always been emotional. Maybe she —”
“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls.
“You’ve never liked her. You’ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her —”
“I’ve only ever tried to help!” Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks. I turned away, my gut churning.
I couldn’t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.
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’s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn’t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom? I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie’s way.
Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her. I started digging, both literally and metaphorically. 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. When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother’s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:
“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son.
You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”
My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it.
This was why she’d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I’d dismissed as harmless.
How blind had I been? It was almost midnight, but I didn’t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.
“How could you?” I waved the letter in her face. “All this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you’ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven’t you?”
