Jeremy… was talking about me.
I read on, tears blurring my vision:
“Today, I gave Lisa a teddy bear. She named him Mr. Peebles. I almost cried seeing her hug it. But Susan will probably take it away. I understand. I just hope, somehow, Lisa knows I love her.”
I dropped into the chair by the window, feeling the whole world tilt.
Jeremy had been my real father.
I wiped my face, reaching for the very bottom of the box where a sealed letter waited. I opened it with shaking hands.
“Dear Lisa,
If you ever read this, please know I always loved you. Not a day went by when I didn’t regret leaving. Please don’t blame your mother. She had every right to hate me. Everything that went wrong — it was my fault.
I leave you everything I have — the house, the savings. You are my only family.
Love always,
Jeremy.”
I cried then, hard and helpless, mourning a father I never truly knew — and the life we never got to share.
Folding the letter carefully, I tucked it into my pocket and walked slowly back to my mother’s house.
She was standing on the porch, bags packed at her feet, looking impatient.
“Lisa, where were you? I’ve been ready for ten minutes!” she snapped, then paused when she saw my red eyes.
“Lisa, are you okay?” she asked, sounding strangely soft.
“Yeah… just got some dust in my eyes,” I said, forcing a shaky smile. “Took me a while to wash it out. Ready to go?”
“Yes, honey. Let’s go. There’s nothing left for me here,” she said, almost whispering.
I looked at her — really looked at her — and for the first time, I saw not just my tough, stubborn mother, but a woman who had carried so much heartbreak alone.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll take care of you.”
We packed up the car and drove away, leaving behind the old house, the old wounds, and the secrets.
And even though the truth came late, it came just in time for a new beginning.
