“A letter from your mother.”
He turned pale.
“From where?”
“From the correctional facility, I guess. No return address.”
Mike sat next to her, staring at the envelope for a long time.
“What should we do?”
“I don’t know. It’s your decision.”
He took the envelope and turned it over in his hands. Then he decisively tore it open. Inside were several sheets of paper covered in small handwriting. Mike read in silence, and Ellie watched his expression change. From tense, to surprised. From surprised, to something like pain.
“What does it say?”
He silently handed her the letter. Ellie began to read.
“Dear Son,
I hesitated to write to you for a long time. I was afraid you wouldn’t read it. Afraid it was already too late. Here, in prison, there’s a lot of time to think. Too much. And I’ve finally started to understand things I didn’t understand before. I was a terrible mother. No, that’s not right. I loved you, that’s true. But my love was sick, twisted. I didn’t want to let you go, to let you live your own life. I wanted to control your every step, every decision.
When Ellie came along, I was scared. Not of her, but of the fact that you would choose her over me. That I would no longer be the center of your universe. And I did terrible things. I tried to destroy your marriage. I tried to slander your wife. I stole money—yes, for you too, but mostly for myself. For the feeling of power, security, control. I deserved what I got.
You don’t have to answer this letter. You don’t have to forgive me. I’m not writing for that. I’m writing to say: you made the right choice. Ellie is a good woman. Much better than I ever was. Take care of her. And your daughter. I know you have a daughter. News travels slowly here, but it travels. Congratulations to you both.
I’m not asking for permission to see her. I’m not asking for a second chance. I just want you to be happy. All three of you. That’s all I wanted to say. Forgive me, if you can. Or don’t. That’s your right.
Your Mother.”
Ellie finished reading and looked up at her husband. He was sitting, staring at the wall.
“Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was hollow. “Maybe.”
“What do you want to do?”
Mike was silent for a long time.
“Nothing,” he finally said. “I’m glad she wrote. Glad she understood something. But it doesn’t change what happened.”
“You don’t want to reply?”
“Not now. Maybe someday. But not now.”
Ellie nodded. She understood him.
“What should we do with the letter?”
“We’ll keep it.” He folded the pages back into the envelope. “Just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her. “Maybe someday Hope will want to know about her grandmother. And then I’ll show her this letter. So she knows: her grandmother was a bad person, but in the end… in the end, she understood that.”
Ellie hugged him.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Outside, the sun was setting. In the distance, a dog barked, cars drove by, the street lived its life. An ordinary evening on an ordinary day. But for the two of them, it was a special moment. The moment when the last shadow of the past finally receded. The letter from his mother was like a period at the end of a long, painful sentence. Now they could start a new chapter.
Three more years passed. Hope grew. Smart, cheerful, a little stubborn. Just like her father. The same eyes, the same smile, the same character. She loved to draw. The walls of her room were covered with her masterpieces. She loved it when her dad read to her at night and her mom sang lullabies. She was afraid of the dark and spiders, but bravely climbed the highest slides at the park.
“She’s going to be a heartbreaker,” Kate laughed when she came to visit. “Look at those eyes.”
“She’ll be whatever she wants to be,” Ellie replied. “We’ll just be there for her.”
It was their joint decision—not to pressure their daughter, not to impose their ambitions on her. Let her grow up free, happy, and confident. Let her know she is loved. Just for being who she is.
Ellie still worked at Summit Construction, now as the Deputy Director of Finance. Mike headed the technical department. They were successful, respected, and happy.
Sometimes in the evenings, after Hope was asleep, they would sit in the kitchen, drinking tea and talking.
“Remember that day?” Mike asked once. “When I came back from my business trip, and you were crying on the porch.”
“I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“If someone had told me then that in five years we’d be here—with a daughter, with careers, happy—I wouldn’t have believed them.”
“Me neither.”
“You were so strong, Ellie. I only truly understand that now. That whole war with my mother… you were alone against everyone.”
“Not alone. I had Kate.”
“But I… I wasn’t on your side. And you still didn’t give up.”
“I had something worth fighting for.”
He took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.
“Thank you. For not leaving me. For giving me a chance to change.”
“You deserved that chance.”
“I don’t know about that. But I’m glad you thought so.”
They sat in silence, listening to the wind rustling outside. Somewhere in the house, their daughter slept peacefully. The kettle on the stove whistled softly. An ordinary evening. An ordinary life. But for Ellie, it was everything. Everything she had ever dreamed of.
Sunday morning. The sun filled the kitchen with golden light. Ellie was making pancakes—Hope’s favorite, with apples and cinnamon. Mike sat at the table, scrolling through something on his phone.
“Mommy!” The pitter-patter of little feet. Hope burst into the kitchen, her hair a mess from sleep. “Mommy, pancakes!”
“Yes, sweetie. They’ll be ready in a minute.”
The little girl climbed onto her father’s lap.
“Daddy, are we going to the park today?”
“If you finish your breakfast.”
“I’ll eat it all up. I promise.”
Ellie smiled as she flipped a pancake. She looked at her husband and daughter—the two most precious people in her life—and her heart filled with warmth. The journey to this point had been long and difficult. There had been tears, fear, despair. There were moments when she wanted to give up. When it seemed like nothing would work out. But she didn’t give up. She fought for her family, for her love, for her truth. And she won.
Mike looked up and met her gaze. In his eyes, there was love. Real, deep, eternal.
“Are you happy?” he asked quietly.
She smiled.
“Happy. Truly happy.”
And that was the honest truth.
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