Nine years. For nine long years, I carried both hope and fear within me. Hope that someday they would understand that I was not just an ‘intruder’ in their lives, but a woman who sincerely loved their father. And fear that this moment would never come, and I would remain a stranger to them forever.
When I first met Gabriel, his eyes still reflected the image of his late wife. He was a handsome, confident, successful man, and his heart was clouded with grief and memories. I did not judge him; on the contrary, I understood that he was trying to regain at least some remnants of happiness. But none of that helped me when I looked at his children, who simply could not accept me.
Gabriel was 10 years younger than me, and it would seem that the age difference did not matter. But in their eyes, I was an unfortunate memory, an inappropriate presence. Violet, the eldest of his children, found a way to show her dissatisfaction with me from day one. She repeatedly told me that I had no place in their lives, as if she and Gabriel did not live in the same house, and I was just a stranger who interfered with their ideal picture of the world.
I kept it all inside. I got used to enduring it, as if it were my destiny. I swallowed every barb, every taunt, pretending it didn’t hurt me. The days, weeks and months dragged on in a continuous state of anticipation — I waited for the moment when Gabriel’s children would leave home and I would finally be alone with him. I dreamed that then we could be happy without worrying about how others perceived us.
And then that moment came. Everett, Violet and Griffin left for school and work, and Gabriel and I decided to get married. We did it modestly, in court, surrounded by close friends and family. I expected them to attend out of politeness, but they didn’t come. To my surprise, Gabriel wasn’t upset about it. He just smiled and said that what mattered was our moment, not what others thought.
After the wedding, we went on a long-awaited trip to the villa we had dreamed of together. White stone, endless turquoise water, silence that seemed like a gift from fate. We were enjoying our solitude on the second day when a whirlwind burst into our world.
They came. Everett, Violet and Griffin — as if they had never left, as if they were returning home. In their hands were Louis Vuitton suitcases, a symbol of their life of success and prosperity, which, as they believed, should have been theirs alone. It all happened so fast that I barely had time to recover.
‘Dad! Surprise!’ Violet shouted, rushing towards Gabriel as if nothing had changed. Griffin leaned towards me with a smirk and said, ‘You thought you buried us, didn’t you, Grandma?’ I stood there, stunned, but tried to keep my feelings in check. But there was something in Griffin’s eyes that made it hard for me to breathe. It was an insult hidden behind a mask of friendliness.
I told myself that we were just on holiday, that they would leave as soon as they got tired of the luxury. But what happened next shook me to my core.
Violet, pleased with herself, twirled around the living room, spreading her arms as if assessing the size of the pool and the ocean that stretched out before us. She stopped and said with a giggle,
“This place is crazy for someone who’s almost sixty. We’ll take the main villa, and you can stay in the staff cottage. Fair enough, right?”
Those words hit me like a punch in the gut. I tried to find the strength to respond, but all I could say was:
‘Please, just give us this. Two weeks. That’s all I’m asking for.’
But they weren’t going to meet me halfway. Violet smirked, and Griffin added fuel to the fire, saying:
‘You’ll never be one of us. You don’t understand him. You don’t understand this.’
What happened after that? All hope that we could spend at least these two weeks in peace was shattered. I felt that our tranquillity no longer existed, and the peace I had been seeking was disturbed.
Gabriel was calm, but I could see the tension in his eyes. He knew that the moment had come to make a decision. He could no longer sit and remain silent. He walked to the door and gave in — his anger was stronger than all the ridicule.
The glass shattered. I didn’t have time to understand what had happened. Gabriel stood in the doorway, shards in his hands, his face contorted with anger I had never seen before.
‘Get out. All of you,’ he said firmly, without the slightest hint of doubt.
It was a loud blow to the heart, and at the same time a moment of liberation for me. Gabriel had made his decision. Neither of us wanted to live in a world where other people’s expectations destroyed our love.
All I could do was take his hand and say quietly, ‘Thank you.’
