He believed his life was flawless–safe, secure, predictable.
But the mere thought of having another child sent waves of fear through him, afraid it would disrupt the fragile equilibrium he’d built.
I had asked him once, a while back, if we could try again for another child. A part of me ached to fill the emptiness left by our first son.
But just as I was settling on that idea, Madeline approached him with her own request–she wanted a child.
But there was one stipulation: she refused to endure the pain of childbirth.
And instead of rejecting her, instead of standing by the woman he had married–the one who wore his ring and shared his bed–Ryan came up with a plan.
A plan that was as brilliant as it was cruel.
He suggested using Madeline’s egg, and transferring it into my body.
I had already expressed a desire to get pregnant again, and Madeline wouldn’t go through labor. Problem solved.
He justified it to himself, thinking that our son’s heart condition, which he had inherited from me, was a sign of bad genes. Using Madeline’s egg would ensure a healthier baby.
To Ryan, the arrangement was flawless.
Everyone would get what they wanted-
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A healthy child, a clear conscience. And if that child had two mothers, one biological and one who birthed him- wasn’t that just a bonus?
He was so confident in the plan, so proud, that he couldn’t wait to share it with Madeline.
And, predictably, she agreed without hesitation.
They began organizing everything as though I were nothing more than a surrogate.
Then, Lucas was born.
I remember holding him for the first time–his warmth, his smallness, his perfection.
I smiled for the first time in years.
I gave him everything.
For the first decade of his life, I was his only mother.
But then, Madeline couldn’t control her resentment. It bled through the cracks, little by little.
Ryan began to notice. Eventually, he decided it wasn’t fair.
Madeline, in his eyes, was the “real” mother. She couldn’t stay in the background while I received all the praise.
So, he devised a new plan.
Lucas was still young–easily influenced.
I had been pushing him hard in school, and Ryan used that against me. He and Madeline took him out more often, spoiling him with toys and games,
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It worked.
Over time, Lucas grew closer to Madeline, confiding in her about things he never shared with me.
And then, when he got his first girlfriend, it was Madeline he told first.
Ryan believed he had succeeded.
Now, Lucas had two mothers.
And me? I was reduced to what he thought I was good for- keeping the house in order.
He convinced himself that Madeline was better at nurturing, at understanding emotions. He even told himself that if I truly loved Lucas, I would accept this.
So, I was pushed further into the background. Forgotten. Replaced.
Life continued–messy, uneven.
Ryan claimed to be frustrated with me at times, but whenever tension rose, Madeline was always there to calm him down. To whisper sweet words in his ear, reminding him why he chose her. He convinced himself that I should be grateful to her–for making their marriage so “peaceful.”
When the plans for Lucas’s wedding began, Ryan did briefly consider telling me the truth–that Lucas was Madeline’s biological child. But he also knew what I had done to raise him. And legally, we were still married–still husband and wife, at least on paper. Any decent man would have thought I had the right to be at the wedding,
But then, Lucas made his feelings clear.
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“I don’t want her there,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust. “She’s embarrassing.”
There was no attempt to soften the blow.
“If Clara finds out I have someone like her as my mother, she might cancel the whole thing. For the sake of my marriage, I don’t want her there. And honestly, if she shows up, she might start washing dishes or something. Just the thought makes me cringe.”
Turning to Ryan, he tried to reason with him as though he didn’t get it.
“Dad, listen to Maddie. Just keep her away. Once Clara and I are settled, we can tell her, okay?”
Ryan was furious.
He had wanted Lucas and Madeline to grow close, yes.
But he never imagined Lucas would reject me so easily. So cruelly.
After all, I was still his mother–at least in the public eye. How could a wedding proceed without me?
Then Madeline entered.
Tears shimmered in her eyes, clinging to her lashes like morning dew.
In forty years, she had rarely shown Ryan this side of herself.
“Please, Ryan,” she pleaded. “Lucas agreed. Just this once- let me have it. Let me be there.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s almost thirty. He’s never once called me ‘Mom.‘ I just want to hear it–just
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once.”
“Just today. Clara will have a lifetime to call Elise ‘Mom.‘ I’m not asking for much. Just today.”
Ryan hesitated.
The moment she spoke, he started to crack.
By the time she finished, he had silently agreed.
He convinced himself that if he had met Madeline first, things might’ve been simpler. And maybe she deserved it. After all, she was Lucas’s biological mother–that much was undeniable. He thought of the years they had hidden the truth. All those birthdays and milestones Madeline had watched from the shadows. He felt guilty. So he let her go.
But Ryan never expected that I would find out. Never thought I would catch on–until that night at the concert.
The instant I met his gaze, filled with guilt and betrayal, Ryan faltered. He tried to shield himself with cruelty, snapping at me, saying things he couldn’t take back.
As the wedding day began, that memory hit him like a slap in the face.
His chest tightened for a moment.
Then the sound of laughter and music broke through, snapping him back to reality.
“Dad, I’m nervous,” Lucas whispered next to him. “Thank God Maddie’s here. Clara was just going on about how classy she looks.”
Lucas chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“If Mom had come instead… yeah, that would’ve been a
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whole different story.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched. It didn’t matter who Lucas’s mother was. This wedding wasn’t about me or Madeline. It was about Lucas and Clara.
So why did he feel so… overwhelmed?
He frowned. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She is your mother.”
Lucas scoffed. “I wish she wasn’t.”
“You-!” Ryan nearly lost it.
Lucas raised his hands. “Okay, okay, let’s not get into it. Clara’s about to walk in. Let’s just focus on today, alright?”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked
away.
Ryan stood there, surrounded by flowers, music, and flashing cameras–uncertain if he had made the right choice.
As the wedding march swelled, Ryan saw his son–golden, triumphant–take his place at the altar.
Yet the music carried only one name: Elise Thornton. The woman he had abandoned forty years ago.
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