Every Monday, my daughter swore she was too sick for school. I thought it was stress until the morning I caught her sneaking out. I followed her to a coffee shop, expecting an older boy or teen drama, but when I peeked through the windows, I saw her meeting someone I swore we’d never see again.
Ava shuffled into the kitchen, clutching her stomach like she was dying.
“Another stomachache?” I asked. “Ava, this is the eighth Monday in a row. What’s really going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” Ava muttered. “I just feel sick.”
I studied her face, searching for tells. As a nurse, I was pretty good at spotting when someone was faking symptoms. But as her mother? I was starting to feel like I didn’t know my own kid anymore.
“Is someone bullying you at school? Are you stressed about something?”
“No, Mom. I just don’t feel good.”
I knew she was lying, but if she didn’t want to tell me the truth, what could I do about it? We used to be so close, but lately, I felt like all I did was manage her: check that her homework was done, that her chores were finished, and that she ate something nutritious at least once a day.
I glanced at the clock. Those extra shifts I’d been picking up to save for her college fund were killing me. I didn’t even have time to talk to my daughter anymore.
“Fine,” I said, grabbing my keys. “Stay home, but you’re seeing the doctor if this keeps happening.”
I was halfway to work when I realized I’d forgotten my ID badge. Cursing under my breath, I made a U-turn and headed home.
I was stopped at the intersection near our house when I saw Ava standing at the bus stop, looking perfectly fine. I’d known she was lying, but I’d never imagined she was sneaking off somewhere!
When the bus pulled away, I followed it. I had to know what Ava was up to.
As I drove, I called my supervisor and told her I couldn’t make it to work due to a family emergency.
The bus stopped in an area full of coffee shops, bookstores, and little boutiques. I watched from my car as Ava got off and headed into a coffee shop.
I parked and sat there for a minute, trying to calm my racing heart. Ava was 15, old enough to be allowed some space to make mistakes, but what if that mistake was an older boy with bad intentions?
I approached the coffee shop’s large front window and peered inside. After a few moments, I spotted her sitting at a corner table, smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in months.
I sidestepped to get a look at the person Ava was meeting.
The moment Ava’s companion came into view, terror stole the breath from my lungs.
This couldn’t be happening. I watched them for a moment, frozen, as Eleanor, my former MIL, gave my daughter that sweet smile that had fooled me for years.
Then Eleanor reached across the table to pat Ava’s arm. The sight of that snake touching my sweet girl shocked me into action.
I burst through the coffee shop door like a woman possessed.
“Get away from my daughter!”
Every conversation stopped. Ava’s eyes went wide as I stormed toward their table.
“Claire, please,” Eleanor said in a shaky voice. “I just wanted to see my granddaughter. Is that so wrong?”
“Yes!” I grabbed Ava’s arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Ava jerked away from me. “Mom, what are you doing?”
“Saving you from her.” I shot Eleanor a look that could have melted steel. “Stay away from us. I mean it.”
Eleanor clutched her chest dramatically. “I’m begging you, Claire, don’t take her away from me again.”
I turned my back on Eleanor and practically dragged Ava out of the coffee shop.
Ava yanked her arm free the moment we were outside.
“What is wrong with you?” she shouted. “You just screamed at an old woman in front of everyone like she was dangerous or something!”
“She is dangerous.”
“Grandma Ellie is nice!”
“She’s not,” I said sharply. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”
Ava crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with anger. “Then explain it to me! Because she’s been nothing but sweet to me.”
“Trust me, that woman is a monster, Ava. How did you even find her?”
“She found me on Instagram.” Ava pulled out her phone, fingers flying over the screen. Moments later, she shoved it in my face.
Every message was sweet, nostalgic, with just enough self-pity to tug at a teenager’s heartstrings. Eleanor had always been a master manipulator, but seeing her work on my daughter made me feel sick.
“See? She’s nice, Mom,” Ava said, taking her phone back. “She just wants to know me, like I want to know her. If you hadn’t cut her and Dad out of our lives—”
“I did that to keep us safe.”
Ava let out a frustrated groan. “From what? A little old lady who bakes cookies every weekend? A firefighter who literally saves lives every day?”
I could hear Eleanor in my daughter’s words; the careful PR campaign that painted Chris as a hero and me as the bitter ex-wife who’d stolen their precious granddaughter out of spite.
“Is this why you’ve been pretending to be sick every Monday? So you could go see her?”
“Yes.” Ava’s chin lifted defiantly. “I wanted to know her, and I want to meet my dad, too.”
“Absolutely not! I won’t allow it. Ava, you don’t understand—”
“And you won’t explain it,” she snapped. “Grandma Ellie was right: you’re just a controlling person who cut them off out of spite, but I’m not a little kid anymore, Mom. I deserve to know my family, and you can’t stop me.”
We’d reached my car by then, but neither of us got in. Instead, we stood on the sidewalk, staring each other down.
I’d tried so hard to shield Ava from everything I’d survived, but if I didn’t tell her the truth now, I was going to lose her to the exact people I’d spent years protecting her from.
“Okay,” I said softly. “I’ll tell you the truth, but once you hear it, there’s no going back.”
The drive home was silent. Once we got home, I sat her down at our kitchen table.
“Your father and I married young. He was a confident, charming guy who swept me off my feet. He brought me flowers for no reason, said all the right things, and made me feel like I was the most important person in his world.”
Ava’s expression softened slightly. This was the version of the story she’d always wanted to hear.
“But it was a lie. Once he found out I was pregnant, it was like the mask came off. He expected me to cook every meal, keep the house spotless, do his laundry, and stroke his ego. And if I complained…” I shook my head. “He turned mean. And Eleanor backed him up on everything. She told me that ‘good wives don’t complain.’ That it was my job to support him without question.”
Ava frowned. “I can’t imagine Grandma Ellie saying something like that. And lots of women do housework. I mean, it’s not really fair, but it doesn’t sound that bad.”
“It was that bad. I’ll show you.” I got up and fetched a manila folder from the table in the hall where I kept all my documents.
“Then, when you were four, I found out he’d been cheating on me. Not just once, but throughout our entire marriage. When I confronted him, he said it was my fault for not being more exciting. Eleanor said I should’ve tried harder to meet his needs.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“That’s when I knew I had to leave. I packed our things while he was at work and moved us into a tiny apartment across town. He didn’t fight for custody, but Eleanor did.” I opened the folder and spread the documents across the table. “She told the court I was an unfit mother who’d stolen you away from your loving family.”
Ava picked up one of the legal documents, scanning the pages with growing horror.
“She showed up at my work and told my supervisors I was mentally unstable, and reported me to CPS for neglect.”
“This is all real?” Ava whispered, holding up a restraining order.
“Every page. The custody battle lasted eight months. I spent every penny I had on legal fees and worked double shifts to pay for it all. Eleanor had money and connections, but I had the truth on my side.”
I pointed to another document. “That’s the final custody order. She was ordered to stay away from both of us.”
Ava’s hands shook as she turned the pages.
“I never wanted you to grow up thinking your family was broken or dangerous,” I said. “I thought if I just kept us away from them, you’d be safe. If I’d known they’d come looking for you…” I trailed off, watching my daughter process everything I’d just told her.
“You should’ve told me anyway, Mom.” Ava shook her head, still staring at the documents. “God, I feel like an idiot.”
Her phone chimed then. She glanced at the screen, and her face darkened.
“It’s her. She’s asking if I’m okay, if you hurt me.” She clenched her jaw. “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.”
“No!” I reached for her phone. “Just leave them alone. It’s the only way to make sure you don’t get wrapped up in their sick mind games.”
Ava eyed me thoughtfully. Then she shook her head.
“It’s time to put an end to this, Mom. You’ve carried this for years like some spy with top secret information, and look where it got us. I’ve been sneaking around behind your back because I didn’t have the whole story. It’s time you stopped hiding.”
I looked at my daughter, staring at me with fire in her eyes. She was right. Running and hiding had only delayed this confrontation, not prevented it.
“I’m going to ask her to meet me at the same coffee shop,” Ava said, already typing. “But this time, you’ll be with me.”
Eleanor was waiting when we entered. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted me, but she smiled warmly and opened her arms to Ava.
“Sweetheart, I was so worried about you.”
Ava stopped short and glared at her. Gone was the eager, hopeful girl who’d been meeting her grandmother in secret.
“You lied to me,” Ava said.
Eleanor’s smile faltered for just a moment. “Sweetheart, that’s not true. Everything I’ve done has been—”
“Manipulation,” Ava cut her off.
“Mom showed me the documents from the divorce and the custody hearings,” Ava continued. “You made it sound like you were the victim when you messaged me. Not a single thing you told me was true.”
Eleanor tried one last guilt trip, her eyes filling with crocodile tears. “I just wanted to know my granddaughter. I’ve missed so much of your life.”
“Because you tried to destroy my mother,” Ava said. “You can save the tears for someone who doesn’t know what you really are. I’m blocking your number. Don’t contact me again. Ever.”
Then she walked out, leaving Eleanor sitting alone at the table.
I lingered for just a second longer, meeting Eleanor’s glare. For years, I’d shrunk under that gaze, but not anymore.
“Stay away from my daughter,” I said quietly, then followed Ava outside.
We drove home in silence again, but it wasn’t tense or angry this time, just thoughtful. As I pulled into our driveway, Ava sighed deeply.
“I wanted her to be good,” she whispered. “I wanted to believe someone actually wanted me for me.”
I reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ve always been wanted, Ava. Always. I walked through hell to keep you safe, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You’re my baby girl.”
For the first time in months, she squeezed back. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Mom. I should have trusted you.”
“You shouldn’t have had to. I should have told you the truth from the beginning.”
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