« Mr. Dean was devastated, » he continued. « He had never realized that these teenagers were his wife’s biological children. That she had… abandoned them without a second thought. »
« Mr. Dean was devastated. »
I didn’t answer. I was barely breathing.
In less than 48 hours, Maribelle received the divorce papers. Her access to their joint accounts was immediately blocked. And, one by one, the public records revealed the truth: she had abandoned her own children.
One morning, I opened a local tabloid while drinking a weak coffee. The headline jumped out at me:
« A mother who abandoned her children faces public humiliation. »
The photo was sharp, unforgiving. I slammed the newspaper shut. I didn’t want Lily or Jacob to stumble across it.
« A mother who abandoned her children faces public humiliation. »
Later that afternoon, my phone rang again. It was Mr. Dean. His voice was calm and measured, but there was a heaviness in his apologies.
“Hélène, I can’t change the past, madam. But I want to do what’s right for Lily and Jacob. Maribelle claimed to promise them a wonderful life… I hate everything she’s done. But I want to honor those words in my own way. I want to offer them security.”
What was I supposed to say? Thank him for promising to provide for my deceased son’s children? And acknowledge that all of this was only happening because their mother had abandoned them, and then dared to lie about their existence years later?
« But I want to do what’s right for Lily and Jacob. »
“If you agree,” he continued, “I will set up a trust fund for their education, housing, and medical care. And a monthly stipend to help you, after all you’ve done for them.”
« Why are you doing this? » I managed to ask.
“Because… I always wanted to be a father, Hélène. But now that my wife has betrayed me in such a despicable way… it will take me time to process all of this. On the other hand, the twins can’t wait. Their lives are at stake now. And your son can no longer offer them a safety net… so let me take over. For them. For you. For David.”
« Why are you doing this? »
I dropped the phone on the kitchen counter. The tears came before I even had time to hold them back. I had buried my son and embraced his children. And now, a stranger was offering us a little respite, a little security.
A few days later, I sat down at the kitchen table with Lily and Jacob. I placed Mr. Dean’s letter in front of them: everything he had told me on the phone, written down in black and white.
« Are we really allowed to accept all this, Grandma? » asked Jacob.
Tears welled up in my eyes before I could even hold them back.
« Yes, darling, » I said softly. « Because you both deserve it. You’ve earned every little bit of this chance. And honestly… I think we deserve a little help too. »
Some afternoons, I drive past the small townhouse where Maribelle now lives, a tiny rental on the outskirts of town. I slow down, keep my foot on the accelerator for a second longer. I don’t look for her. I don’t linger.
I just remind myself that we are safe… and that even if I never want to have anything to do with her again, at least I know where she is.
« You deserved every little bit of this chance. »
In the evening, our house is filled with warmth, laughter, and the twins’ silly jokes.
I’m not just their grandmother, I’m their home. And nothing Maribelle can throw at us—no lies, no money, no arrogance—will ever change that.
And every month, as promised, Mr. Dean’s transfer arrives on time. The funds for the university remain untouched, waiting, ready for the dreams Lily and Jacob will choose to pursue when they are ready.
After all, we don’t just have a roof over our heads. We have a future.
I am not just their grandmother, I am their home.
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