Chapter 6: Truth on the Table

A noise at the door broke the silence. My heart leapt into my throat. I wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself as footsteps crept across the entryway.

Emily crept in quietly, but as soon as she stepped past the entryway, she spotted me sitting in the living room.

She stopped dead in her tracks, cheeks flushed. For a second, she looked like a little girl caught sneaking in after curfew. But this wasn’t some harmless prank. This was betrayal, and she knew it.

My son-in-law and Maddie followed behind, still chatting about the birthday party. When they saw me, they fell silent. Maddie pretended nothing had happened, blinking her big, innocent eyes and reaching for me, saying she missed Grandma and wanted a hug.

Adam’s voice died mid-sentence, and Maddie’s face lit up with a practiced innocence. She ran to me, arms outstretched, her little voice high and sweet. "Grandma, I missed you! Can I have a hug?" I hesitated, my arms hanging at my sides.

Seeing Maddie run over, I didn’t scoop her up with affection like I used to.

It broke my heart, but I couldn’t bring myself to pretend. For the first time, I hesitated, unsure if I could trust even her. The distance between us felt insurmountable.

Since the day she was born, I’d cared for her just as I had for Emily, pouring all my love into raising her.

I thought about all the nights I’d stayed up with her when she was sick, all the stories I’d read, all the scraped knees I’d kissed. I wondered if any of it mattered, if she’d remember me at all.

My son-in-law had no parents, and both he and Emily worked hard. Living in this big city was expensive. I’d always looked after Maddie so they could focus on their jobs without worry.

I’d taken pride in being the glue that held the family together. I paid the bills, cooked the meals, ran errands. I thought it made me indispensable. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

But even she had betrayed me, just like her mother.

I knew it wasn’t fair to blame a child, but the hurt was too fresh. I looked at her, searching for some sign of loyalty, but all I saw was confusion.

Looking at Emily, she tried to act like nothing had happened, rubbing her shoulder and complaining about how busy work was, promising to throw me a big party tomorrow.

She launched into her usual routine, making excuses, her voice a little too bright. She promised we’d celebrate properly, that today was just a fluke. I watched her, waiting for her to crack.

When her eyes landed on the tiny cake on the table, she paused.

Her gaze lingered, and I saw the guilt flicker across her face. She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Mom, you bought yourself a cake?”

Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. She glanced at the small, lopsided cake, then back at me, as if realizing for the first time what she’d done.

Maybe it was because the cake was so small, or maybe because the one they’d had for Lisa Reynolds was so big, but her guilt was obvious.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. I could see the wheels turning in her head, searching for an excuse, a way out.

I saw no point in pretending, so I asked her directly, “Emily, where did you all go today?”

My voice was steady, but inside I was trembling. I wanted the truth, even if it hurt.

She froze, eyes searching my face, then tried to play dumb.

She looked away, fidgeting with her purse. Her voice was too casual, too rehearsed. I could see the lie forming before she even spoke.

“Mom, what are you talking about? I was at work today.”

She avoided my gaze, her words flat. Adam shot her a quick look, his face pale. Maddie glanced between us, sensing the tension.

She glanced at Adam and Maddie.

Adam shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. Maddie clung to his leg, her eyes wide and uncertain.

He quickly nodded. “Yeah, Mom. Work was crazy today, my back’s killing me.”

His voice was strained, the lie obvious. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I felt a wave of sadness wash over me.

Maddie, copying her dad, shook her head like a rattle. “Grandma, we didn’t eat cake today, we didn’t…”

Her voice was high and earnest, but she couldn’t quite keep her story straight. I almost smiled at her innocence, but the hurt was too deep.

Kids always trip themselves up if you just let them talk.

I watched them fumble, their stories unraveling with every word. It was almost comical, if it hadn’t hurt so much.

Emily didn’t even try to hush her; she just forced a smile, her eyes darting as she lied.

She looked desperate, her facade crumbling. I could see the fear in her eyes, the worry that I knew the truth.

“Mom, don’t misunderstand. Maddie got restless at my office, so I bought her a little cake.”

The lie was clumsy, and we both knew it. I didn’t say a word. Just waited.

Hearing this clumsy lie, I felt nothing but disappointment.

The disappointment was sharp, bitter. I realized then that I’d lost more than just a birthday—I’d lost my place in their lives.

So I pulled out my phone, found that video, and put it right in front of her.

I set the phone on the table, the video playing for all to see. The truth was right there, undeniable.

She froze, mouth open as if to explain, then just sighed and plopped down next to me, like she’d given up.

She let out a long, shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. For the first time, she looked her age, tired and defeated.

“Oh, Mom!”

Her voice was a mix of frustration and resignation. She ran a hand through her hair, staring at the floor.

“It’s been so many years. I know you hate Dad, but I’m his flesh and blood, too.”

She sounded almost pleading, as if asking for permission to love him. I felt a pang of sympathy, but it was drowned out by the hurt.

“I’ve barely seen him all these years for your sake—wasn’t that enough?”

Her words stung. I realized she’d been keeping secrets, sacrificing for me in ways I hadn’t noticed.

“You’re getting older. Why can’t you let go of these grudges? Even if you can’t, don’t drag me into it!”

She looked at me, eyes shining with unshed tears. I saw the little girl she used to be, but also the woman she’d become—torn between loyalty and longing.

“Every year on your birthday, haven’t I always been with you?”

Her voice cracked, and I saw the effort it took to hold herself together. She wanted so badly for things to be simple, for the past to stay buried.

“Aunt Lisa—well, she has the same birthday as you. She never says it, but she really wants the family together. So I thought, since we all live in the same city, what’s the difference which day we celebrate? I just threw her party today and planned to make it up to you tomorrow.”

She tried to sound reasonable, but I heard the guilt underneath. She wanted everyone to be happy, but at what cost?

“Mom, you’re getting up there in years. Please don’t throw a fit, okay? Adam and I are exhausted from work every day. When I’m with Dad, I can finally relax a little. But look at you—can’t you think about me for once?”

Her words were sharp, defensive. I felt my heart harden, the distance between us growing wider.

Hearing my daughter complain, my already cold heart turned colder.

I realized then that we’d been living in different worlds, speaking different languages. She wanted peace, but I wanted justice. There was no middle ground.

So I asked, “Are you blaming me for keeping you and your father apart?”

My voice was quiet, but the question hung in the air like a challenge. I needed to know, needed to hear her say it.

Emily didn’t look like David Callahan at all—she took after me.

She had my eyes, my stubborn chin. I wondered if she’d inherited my pain, too, or if she’d managed to let it go.

Back when we divorced, David Callahan poured all his fatherly love into Lisa Reynolds’s two children, especially the daughter, Riley.

I remembered the way he used to talk about them, how he’d light up when Riley walked into the room. It was like Emily didn’t exist.

The first time I saw her, she was six, but her features were the spitting image of Lisa Reynolds’s. No wonder David Callahan doted on her.

It was as if he’d found a replacement for the family he’d left behind. I never understood how he could choose them over us.

Back then, Emily sobbed hysterically, curled in my arms, asking over and over, “Mom, why doesn’t Dad want me? Why does he want to be someone else’s dad? Doesn’t he love me anymore?”

Her questions haunted me for years. I never had a good answer. I just held her, rocked her, and promised I’d never leave.

Watching her cry broke my heart.

I would have done anything to take away her pain. But some wounds never heal, no matter how much love you pour into them.

My own child, abandoned by her father—what a tragedy.

It was the kind of hurt that shapes a person, that lingers long after the tears have dried. I thought we’d survived it together. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

But now, it all felt like a joke.

The years of sacrifice, the sleepless nights, the endless worry—it all seemed pointless. I wondered if I’d been a fool to believe love was enough.

Emily didn’t seem to notice the change in my tone. She started to act cute, just like always.

She tried to lighten the mood, her voice turning playful. But it felt forced, out of place. I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Mom, I didn’t mean it like that. But think about it—Dad’s getting old. No matter what, I’ve got half his blood. Whatever grudges we had, it’s been so many years. Shouldn’t they be gone by now? And Mom Lisa—well, Aunt Lisa—she’s actually really nice. Back then, she only took Dad because she was worried about Evan and Riley not having a father. She’s even apologized to me, bought me gifts, treated me like her own. No matter what happened, you’re old now—why keep holding on to the past?”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, as if she could talk me out of my pain. She wanted so badly for me to move on, to let her have the family she craved.

Honestly? I almost laughed.

The father who’d abandoned her without looking back—she’d spent countless nights crying in my arms, asking why he didn’t want her.

I remembered every tear, every question. I wondered if she remembered, too, or if she’d managed to forget.

And Lisa Reynolds, who knowingly broke up our family—just because she bought a gift, Emily could let it all go?

I couldn’t fathom it. Was forgiveness really that easy? Or was it just easier to pretend the past didn’t matter?

I pulled away from her touch.

“Emily, so you think I’m being unreasonable for not forgiving David Callahan and Lisa Reynolds?”

My voice was steady, but my hands trembled. I needed to hear her answer, needed to know where we stood.

She nodded, as if it were obvious.

She didn’t hesitate, her conviction unwavering. I realized then that she’d made her choice.

“Of course! I was just a kid back then. I’ve forgotten all those grudges. Now when I close my eyes, all I remember are the good times with Dad. We were so happy. So Mom, I hope you can let it go, too, so we can all be a family again. Aunt Lisa is really nice—maybe you two could even be like sisters—”

Her words stung, each one a fresh wound. She wanted to rewrite history, to pretend the past never happened. I couldn’t do it.