“Mom, I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to what, Ethan?” I interrupted. “You didn’t mean to hurt me? You didn’t mean to humiliate me? You didn’t mean to erase 45 years of motherhood in a single sentence?”
My voice had hardened.
“Or maybe you just didn’t want me to find out who you really are.”
The silence stretched for several minutes. Ashley fidgeted with her wedding ring. Carol maintained her forced smile. Ethan looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.
“Mom,” he said finally, “I’m so sorry if I hurt you. It wasn’t my intention. I was nervous, excited.”
“Ethan,” I cut him off, “let me tell you something about intentions. When you were 5 years old and cried every night, my intention was to comfort you. When I worked two jobs to pay for your private school, my intention was to give you the best opportunities. When I spent my savings on your wedding, my intention was to see you happy.”
I stood up and walked to the window, turning my back to them.
“But when you called me the day after your wedding, asking for more money—what was your intention, Ethan? When Ashley told me a woman my age doesn’t need much money, what was her intention?”
Ashley turned red.
“I never said that.”
I turned slowly to face her.
“Really? Because I have a very good memory. Your exact words were, ‘A woman your age doesn’t need that much money. It would be an investment in your son’s future.’”
The tension in the room was palpable. Carol tried to mediate.
“Stephanie, I think we’re all overreacting. We’re family now. We should support each other.”
I smiled coldly.
“Family? What an interesting word. Ethan made it very clear that his real family includes you, Carol. I’m just the lady who raised him.”
Ethan stood up abruptly.
“Enough. This is ridiculous. You’re acting like a spoiled child.”
His words echoed in the apartment like a gunshot. Carol looked at him reproachfully.
“Ethan, don’t talk to your mother like that.”
But the damage was done.
“There it is,” I said calmly. “The real Ethan, the one who throws a tantrum when things don’t go his way.”
I walked to my handbag and took out a folder.
“Since we’re being honest, let me show you something.”
I opened the folder on the coffee table. They were photographs of my properties.
“This is the office building where I live now. I inherited it from my father.”
Ethan moved closer to get a better look.
“I also have this apartment complex in the Polarmo district.”
Ashley gasped.
“And this shopping plaza downtown.”
Their faces reflected total disbelief. Carol stared at the photos as if they were alien documents.
“I also have investment accounts,” I continued, “and a few other minor properties.”
I closed the folder.
“In total, my net worth is $840,000.”
Ashley fainted. She literally slumped onto the sofa. Ethan rushed to help her while Carol fanned her with a magazine.
“$840,000?” Ethan murmured. “You had $840,000 and you let me spend my savings on medical emergencies last year?”
That question showed exactly who he was. Even in this moment of shock, he couldn’t see beyond his own self-interest.
“Ethan,” I said softly, “during that medical emergency, did you ever once ask how I was doing? Did you worry about my emotional health, or did you just want the money?”
Carol helped Ashley sit up. The young woman was pale and trembling.
“I don’t understand,” she babbled. “If you had so much money, why did you act like you were poor? Why did you let us pay for things if you could have?”
Her indignation was fascinating, as if I had stolen something from her.
“Ashley,” I replied, “I never acted poor. I simply lived on my pension and kept my assets private. You all assumed that because I was a retiree who adopted a child, I must be poor. That was your assumption, not my reality.”
Ethan ran his hands through his hair, processing the information.
“Mom, this changes everything. We could have done so many things together. We could have—”
“We could have what, Ethan?” I interrupted. “Could we have been a real family? Or could we have spent my money on things you wanted?”
The question hung in the air. Ethan couldn’t answer because we both knew the truth.
Carol cleared her throat.
“Stephanie, I understand your hurt, but now that we know the whole truth, we can start over as a united family.”
I looked at this woman who had orchestrated my public humiliation and now wanted to start over after discovering my fortune.
“Carol,” I said with a smile, “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
I took another document out of my handbag.
“This is my new will. Ethan has been removed as a beneficiary of all my assets. In his place, I have created a foundation for single mothers who adopt abandoned children.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Ethan stared at me as if I had just shot him. Ashley began to sob. Carol maintained her composure, but her hands were trembling slightly.
“Mom,” Ethan whispered, “you can’t do this. I’m your son.”
I smiled sadly.
“No, Ethan. As you made very clear at your wedding, I am not your real mother. And if that’s the case, then you are not really my son.”
Ethan was paralyzed for several seconds, processing my words. Then he exploded.
“This is insane. You can’t disinherit me over one stupid comment.”
His voice had become high-pitched, desperate.
“I’m your son. I’ve loved you my whole life.”
“You’ve loved me?” I asked calmly. “Ethan, tell me one time in the last three years that you called me just to see how I was. One time you visited without asking for money. One time you included me in your plans without me having to pay for something.”
He fell silent. Ashley was sobbing on the sofa while Carol tried to comfort her.
“This is unfair,” Ashley mumbled through her tears. “We love him. My family welcomed him with love.”
The irony of her words was delicious. Now that they knew about my money, suddenly I was part of the family.
“Ashley,” I said gently, “when you told me a woman my age doesn’t need much money—was that love? When you sat me at the back table at the wedding I paid for—was that family inclusion? When Ethan publicly thanked another woman as his real mother—was that respect?”
Carol finally spoke. Her voice had lost all pretense of sweetness.
“Stephanie, I understand your hurt, but this is revenge. Are you really going to punish Ethan for the rest of his life over one mistake?”
Her words confirmed what I had always suspected. To her, I was just an obstacle between her new family and my money.
“It’s not revenge, Carol,” I replied. “It’s justice. Ethan made a conscious decision to replace me as his mother. Now he is living with the consequences of that decision.”
I walked over to the window, looking out at the city.
“Besides, I don’t understand why you’re so worried. According to Ethan, you are his real mother now. Surely, you can provide for him.”
The silence that followed was telling. Ethan looked at Carol expectantly, but she looked away. The reality was that despite all their posturing as a wealthy family, Carol’s resources were nothing compared to mine. And now that Ethan knew how much money he had lost, Carol’s support seemed insignificant.
“Mom,” Ethan said, his voice now pleading, “please forgive me. I was an idiot. I was nervous at the wedding. I wanted to make a good impression on Ashley’s family. I wasn’t thinking about how you would feel.”
Tears began to roll down his cheeks.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. You are my mother, my only mother.”
It was fascinating to see how $840,000 could awaken so much filial love.
“Ethan,” I said, turning back to him, “if you truly love me, then respect my decision. This isn’t just about the wedding. It’s about three years of disrespect, of constant requests for money, of being treated like an annoying obligation.”
Ashley stood up, swaying.
“This is my fault,” she cried hysterically. “I convinced him to say that. I wanted my mom to feel special.”
Her desperate confession revealed the manipulation I had always suspected.
“Ashley,” I said, “I appreciate your honesty, but that only confirms that you two planned my humiliation.”
Ethan approached me, trying to take my hands.
“Mom, please. We can fix this. We can be a real family. Ashley will apologize. I’ll do anything you ask, but don’t punish me like this.”
His eyes were red, his voice broken. It was the first time in years I had seen him show genuine emotion for me.
“Ethan,” I sighed, “do you know what the saddest part of all this is? It took you finding out about my money to remember that you love me. A week ago, when you thought I only had a meager pension, you hung up on me when I told you I had spent my savings on your wedding.”
Carol stood up abruptly.
“Well, this has been very emotional, but I think we all need time to reflect.”
Her change of tactic was obvious. She could no longer pretend this was just a family misunderstanding. She now knew she was dealing with a woman with enough resources to do whatever she wanted.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “You do need time to process this, especially since there’s more news.”
I pulled another document from my handbag.
“I’ve decided to move to Europe. I’ve already bought an apartment in Barcelona.”
All three faces filled with horror.
“I’m leaving in two weeks.”
“You can’t leave,” Ethan shouted. “This is your home. Your family is here.”
The desperation in his voice was palpable.
“Ethan,” I replied, “my home is where I am respected. My family are the people who value me. Clearly, that isn’t here.”
Ashley clung to Ethan’s arm.
“Tell her not to go. Tell her we’ll do whatever it takes.”
It was pathetic to see how money had transformed her attitude toward me. The same woman who had told me I didn’t need much money was now begging me not to leave.
“There is only one thing that would make me reconsider,” I said slowly.
The three of them leaned forward, hopeful.
“I want Ethan to make a public apology. A video where he explains exactly what he did wrong at the wedding and why he’s sorry, and I want him to post it on his social media.”
Ethan went pale.
“A public video? But that would be humiliating.”
The irony was perfect. He had publicly humiliated me. But now that it was his turn, suddenly humiliation was unacceptable.
“Exactly,” I replied. “Now you understand how I felt.”
Carol interjected quickly.
“That’s reasonable. Ethan can make the video.”
But Ethan shook his head.
“I can’t do that. My friends, my co-workers, everyone will see it.”
His pride was more important than our supposed filial love.
“Then I suppose there’s nothing more to talk about,” I said, walking toward the door. “I’ll see you out.”
Ethan grew desperate.
“Wait, give me time to think about it.”
But I had already made up my mind. His reaction had confirmed what I needed to know.
“Ethan,” I said as I opened the door, “you’ve had 45 years to think about our relationship. You’ve had three years to treat me with respect. You’ve had three weeks since the wedding to genuinely apologize. You don’t need more time. You need better priorities.”
The three of them left the apartment in silence. From my window, I watched them get into a taxi. Ethan was looking up at my floor with a desperate expression. Ashley was crying on Carol’s shoulder. It was a pathetic sight, but I felt no pity for them.
That night, I poured another glass of wine and sat on my terrace. The city spread out at my feet, glittering with thousands of lights. For the first time in decades, I felt completely free. No more begging for money. No more family humiliations. No more living for someone who didn’t value me.
My phone rang several times: Ethan, Ashley, even Carol sent me desperate messages, promises of change, pleas for forgiveness, offers of family therapy. I ignored them all. They had already had their chance to be a real family. They had wasted it.
The next day, I received an unexpected call. It was Javier, an old friend from the garment factory.
“Stephanie, I saw your son at the mall yesterday. He looked terrible. Is everything okay?”
I smiled. News traveled fast.
“Everything is perfectly fine, Javier. Finally, everything is as it should be.”
Over the next few days, Ethan intensified his attempts to contact me. Calls at all hours, desperate text messages, even flowers sent to my apartment. All his efforts were in vain. He had crossed a line from which there was no return.
On the fourth day after our confrontation, I decided to go shopping. I had to prepare for my move to Barcelona and wanted to buy some elegant things for my new life. I chose the most exclusive jewelry store in the city, a place where only the truly wealthy shopped.
When I entered the boutique, the saleswoman looked at me with some disdain. I was wearing simple clothes, nothing to indicate my true net worth.
“How can I help you?” she asked condescendingly.
“I’m interested in seeing some special pieces,” I replied. “Diamond necklaces, perhaps some sapphires.”
The woman led me to a modest display case.
“These are our more accessible pieces,” she said, showing me jewelry she clearly considered appropriate for my budget.
I smiled politely.
See more on the next page
Advertisement
