Laura is excited to meet her son’s girlfriend for the first time until the girl’s face pales at a family photo. Sophie knows the man in the picture. He’s been living a double life…
As secrets unravel and betrayal shatters their world, Laura must decide: revenge or freedom? 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.
The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came late at night. I was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters for the third time when I heard footsteps 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, each armed with a spoon, passing the tub back and forth.
“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…
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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