My MIL Abandoned My Daughter 20 Years Ago, Claiming She Wasn’t Her Son’s – Now She’s Back with Flowers and Cake to Win Us Over

Kicked out into the cold with her newborn and nowhere to go, a widowed Cindy rebuilt her life. Twenty years later, her mother-in-law, who abandoned her granddaughter by claiming she wasn’t her son’s, arrived at their doorstep, smiling with an olive branch and a hidden motive.

Twenty years ago, my life shattered. The first week after my husband Josh died felt like being stuck in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. He was my world, my partner, my best friend… my everything.

But a car accident took him just a month after our daughter, Laurel, was born. Losing him was like losing the ground beneath me. And with baby by my side, I was clinging to whatever strength I could muster to face life head-on.

A woman holding a newborn baby | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a newborn baby | Source: Pexels

Moving in with my mother-in-law, Margaret, seemed like the only option. I thought, “Maybe there’s still a lifeline here.” I hoped she’d support me — support us — but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

One night, as I rocked Laurel to sleep, Margaret stormed into the living room, her sharp heels clicking against the wooden floor. I knew something was wrong the moment I saw her. Her lips were pressed tight, and she was gripping my suitcase like it had offended her.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she snapped, throwing the bag down by my feet. “You need to leave. This isn’t a free ride.”

I rose, stunned. “Margaret, what are you talking about?”

She crossed her arms, her gaze cutting through me like a knife. “That baby? She’s not Josh’s. And I won’t have you leeching off me while pretending she is.”

An angry senior woman pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney

An angry senior woman pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney

The room spun. “What are you saying? She’s his daughter—”

“Spare me the tears.” Her voice was ice cold. “You cheated on my son. Get out.”

I don’t remember much after that. Just packing the little I could grab, holding Laurel close as we stepped into the freezing night. That was the first of many nights on park benches, trying to shield her from the cold while her cries echoed in my ears.

If it weren’t for my best friend Eden, I don’t know where we’d be. She found us when I was at rock bottom, shivering outside a coffee shop, trying to warm up Laurel’s bottle.

“Cindy? Oh my God, what happened?” she asked, pulling me inside before I could protest.

A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

From that moment, she became our guardian angel.

Eden gave us a place to stay, helped me find work, and eventually, I got back on my feet. It wasn’t much… just a one-room apartment with creaky floors and a leaky faucet. But it was ours.

The years passed, and while I saw Margaret around town now and then, she never so much as glanced my way. Not at the grocery store, not even when we were within a few feet of each other.

It was like we didn’t exist for each other.

An annoyed senior woman in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed senior woman in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

Fast forward 20 years, and Laurel was thriving. She was in nursing school, bright and compassionate, with a future so much bigger than the one Margaret tried to take from us.

For her 20th birthday, we kept it simple. Eden, Jake (Laurel’s boyfriend), and I shared stories and laughter over the chocolate cake I’d baked.

And then came the unexpected knock on the door.

A delighted young woman celebrating her birthday | Source: Midjourney

A delighted young woman celebrating her birthday | Source: Midjourney

I opened it, and there she was — Margaret, looking polished as ever, holding a bouquet of white roses and a plastic cake container. Her smile was that same forced sweetness I remembered.

“Cindy,” she said, her voice syrupy. “It’s been so long. May I come in?”

Before I could respond, she breezed past me, stepping into the living room like she owned the place.

Her eyes landed on Laurel. “Oh, my! Look at you! You’re all grown up… just like your grandmother!”

Laurel blinked, glancing between me and Margaret. “Mom, who is this?”

A smiling older lady holding a bouquet of white roses | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older lady holding a bouquet of white roses | Source: Midjourney

Margaret gasped, clutching her chest like it hurt her. “You mean your mother NEVER told you about me? I’m your GRANDMOTHER, darling. I’ve thought about you every single day.”

Eden’s fork clinked against her plate. “She’s joking, right?”

Margaret shot her a withering look before turning her attention back to Laurel. “I’ve missed so much of your life. But I’m here now. I want to make things right.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Make things right?” My voice was sharp, cutting through the room. “You abandoned us, Margaret. You called Laurel a mistake and tossed us out in the middle of winter. Now you want to play the doting grandmother?”

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

Margaret waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, Cindy, don’t exaggerate. It’s water under the bridge. What matters is that we’re together now.”

Laurel rose from the couch, her face unreadable. “I need a minute.” She walked into the kitchen, and I followed her, my heart racing.

“Laurel, don’t let her get in your head,” I said the moment we were alone.

She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. “What happened back then, Mom? Why didn’t you ever tell me about her?”

A distressed woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A distressed woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I swallowed hard, the memories flooding back. “Because she didn’t deserve to be part of your life. She kicked us out when we needed her most, Laurel. She called you…” My voice cracked. “She said you weren’t Josh’s. That you weren’t his daughter.”

Laurel’s jaw tightened. “She said that?”

I nodded. “She only cares about herself. Don’t fall for this act.”

She took a deep breath, then placed a hand on my arm. “I trust you, Mom. I just… I need to handle this my way.”

A heartbroken senior woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken senior woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

When we returned to the living room, Laurel sat across from Margaret, her posture relaxed but her eyes steel-sharp. “Why this sudden change of heart,” she said, each word measured, “after 20 years of silence? Did you just remember we exist?”

Margaret hesitated. The silence stretched, brittle as old glass, before she sighed dramatically. “Well, dear, I won’t mince words. I’m not here for lengthy explanations. I need something from you and the family. I’ve fallen on hard times. My health is failing, and I thought… well, family should take care of family.”

A charged silence filled the room. Eden’s jaw dropped. Jake muttered a single, stunned, “Unbelievable!”

An older woman sitting on the couch and smiling | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting on the couch and smiling | Source: Midjourney

Laurel’s head tilted, a movement both curious and predatory. “You want us to take care of you?”

“Just a little help,” Margaret said, her hand fluttering to her chest in a performance of vulnerability. “I’ve missed so much of your lives. Isn’t it only fair?”

I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. “FAIR? You think it’s fair to throw my late husband’s widow and newborn out into the cold, brand her a liar, and now sweep in asking for help?”

Margaret’s fingers clutched her pearls, her indignation rising like a carefully rehearsed act. “I’ve apologized, haven’t I? And clearly, you’ve done well for yourselves. Surely you can spare a little generosity.”

Side shot of an older woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

Side shot of an older woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

Her tone shifted, becoming plaintive. “Nobody wants to care for me now. My own daughter is ready to ship me off to a nursing home. I just want to be loved and cared for in my golden years.”

Laurel remained silent. I watched the calculations behind her eyes as she studied the woman who had so casually discarded us years ago. Margaret, seemingly oblivious, continued her self-serving monologue.

“I’m simply suggesting,” she purred, a predatory softness in her voice, “that I could use a place to stay. Here, perhaps. With my darling granddaughter. Think of all the moments we could share.”

An older woman shrugging | Source: Midjourney

An older woman shrugging | Source: Midjourney

Eden’s restraint snapped. “You’ve got audacity,” she said, her voice razor-edged. “This is the granddaughter you left homeless, in case that convenient memory of yours has forgotten.”

Margaret dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand, as if swatting away an inconvenient truth. “Oh, let’s not dwell on ancient history. We’re here now, aren’t we? We’re family. And that’s what truly matters.”

Jake snorted. “Family? That’s rich coming from you, lady!”

Margaret ignored him, turning to Laurel. “I was hoping I could stay here for a while. Just until I get back on my feet.”

Close-up shot of a serious-looking young man in a room | Source: Midjourney

Close-up shot of a serious-looking young man in a room | Source: Midjourney

Eden raised an eyebrow. “You want to live here? With them? After everything you’ve done? Wow!”

Margaret’s tone turned defensive. “Oh, let’s not dredge up the past. I’ve apologized—”

“No, you haven’t,” I interrupted. “Not once.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed at me. “I’m here now. Isn’t that enough?”

Laurel’s voice emerged, calm yet unyielding. “You want me to let you live here? After you threw my mom and me out?”

Margaret’s practiced smile wavered. “Darling, it was a mistake. Surely you can understand—”

An angry young lady frowning | Source: Midjourney

An angry young lady frowning | Source: Midjourney

“What I understand,” Laurel interrupted, each word cutting like glass, “is that my mom gave up everything for me. She worked herself to exhaustion, went without even the little coziness in life so that I could have enough. And you?” Her eyes blazed. “You stayed in your big house and pretended we didn’t exist.”

A flush of crimson spread across Margaret’s cheeks. “I was grieving!”

“So was she!” Laurel’s voice erupted, trembling with a lifetime of suppressed pain. “But she never abandoned me. You don’t get to waltz back now and ask for anything. You’re NOT my grandmother. You’re just someone who showed up with hollow gestures, hoping we’d forget everything and embrace you.”

An older lady gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

An older lady gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

Margaret’s mouth worked soundlessly, her carefully constructed facade crumbling.

Laurel rose, her stance resolute despite the tears glimmering in her eyes. “You need to leave. Now.”

A desperate plea flickered in Margaret’s gaze as she looked first at me, then back at Laurel. “You’ll regret this.”

Laurel didn’t waver. “No. I won’t. Goodbye, Margaret.”

The door closed with a sharp, piercing click as Margaret stormed out.

A furious young lady with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

A furious young lady with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

Silence filled the room like a held breath. Then Laurel turned, pulling me into a fierce embrace.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” she whispered.

“You didn’t have to defend me,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

“Yes,” she replied, her tone brooking no argument, “I did. You’re my family. You’re the one who’s always been there.”

An emotional woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

Eden’s voice sliced through the tension, light and irreverent. “Well, that was quite the performance. Who’s ready for cake?”

We laughed. For the first time in 20 years, I felt a profound sense of peace fill my heart. Margaret and her empty apologies meant nothing. Laurel and I had built something genuine, something unbreakable.

As I watched my daughter slice the cake, surrounded by love and laughter, I couldn’t help but reflect on how far we’d come. We weren’t just surviving… we were truly living.

A cheerful woman holding her 20th birthday cake | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful woman holding her 20th birthday cake | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Girl Claims She Sees Late Mom at School Every Day, Dad Shocked Upon Discovering the Truth — Story of the Day

Michael, a single father, was left with his 8-year-old daughter after his wife died in a car accident. He thought he was managing well and that his daughter was coping with her mother’s death. But one day, she approached him and said she saw her mom at school every day.

Michael mourned the loss of his wife, Simone, every day. Just a few months ago, she had died in a car accident, but her body was never found because she had fallen into a river.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

This left Michael alone with his 8-year-old daughter, Hannah. Determined to stay strong for her, Michael moved to another city to escape the painful memories that filled their old town. He knew Hannah had already lost her mother; he couldn’t let her lose him, too.

Hannah slowly adapted to her new school and even seemed happy. Michael, on the other hand, had to learn to be both a father and a mother.

He taught himself how to style Hannah’s hair, woke up early every morning to make her breakfast and pack her lunch, and even learned some ballet moves to practice with her at home.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Simone had enrolled Hannah in ballet, believing she would be a great ballerina one day. Michael kept that dream alive, and it kept a part of Simone alive in her.

Today, Michael had finished work early and decided to pick up Hannah from school, a rare treat since she usually took the bus. He waited in the car outside the school, excitement bubbling inside him.

Soon, Hannah ran out of the school. Michael honked the horn to get her attention, and she waved cheerfully, sprinting toward the car. She hopped in, throwing her backpack onto the back seat.

“Hi, Dad!” Hannah said with a big smile as she got into the car.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was school today?” Michael asked, starting to drive.

“It was good. Everyone praised me for my math. All the work we did yesterday really helped,” Hannah replied proudly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Hannah’s smile faded. “But Mom still ignores me,” she said sadly.

Michael’s heart skipped a beat. He hit the brakes harder than he meant to. “What do you mean, Hannah? Do you talk to her?” he asked, his voice full of worry.

“Yes, every day,” Hannah said. “But she pretends she doesn’t know me.”

Michael sighed and started driving again, feeling a heavy weight on his chest. “Hannah, your mom is in a better place now. It’s far away, and she can’t respond to you. But she hears everything you say and loves you very much.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source:Midjourney

Hannah looked confused. “What do you mean? She’s not far away. She’s at school. I see her every day,” she insisted.

Michael glanced at her, puzzled. “What? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Hannah groaned in frustration. “Dad, what’s not to understand? Mom cleans our school every morning when I get there. But when I talk to her, she says she doesn’t know me. I think she’s mad because I want to quit ballet,” she said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You want to quit ballet?” Michael asked, surprised.

Yes. I don’t like it anymore. Mom wanted me to do ballet, but now she doesn’t even talk to me,” Hannah said.

“Hannah, you’re not quitting ballet,” Michael said firmly.

“I will!” Hannah shot back, her voice rising.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“No!” Michael shouted louder than he intended. Hannah’s eyes widened in fear. He took a deep breath and softened his tone. “I’m sorry, but you’re not quitting ballet. We’re not discussing this.”

“But…” Hannah started to say.

Michael cut her off. “It’s not up for discussion. Now let’s go to school, and you show me your mom.”

“She’s not there now. She only comes in the mornings,” Hannah replied.

“Then tomorrow, I’ll go to school with you, and you can show me,” Michael said, determined to understand what was going on.

“Okay, you’ll see I’m telling the truth. You don’t believe me now,” Hannah said quietly.

Michael sighed, his heart aching for his daughter.

For the rest of the day, Michael couldn’t find peace. His mind kept racing with thoughts of Hannah seeing visions of Simone. He had thought Hannah was coping well with her mother’s death.

She had been calm and cheerful since their move to the new city. But now, it seemed he was wrong.

The next day, Michael took Hannah to school and went inside with her. All morning, Hannah kept repeating that she wasn’t lying and that he would soon see for himself.

“Where is she?” Michael asked as they walked through the school corridors, his eyes scanning the halls.

“I don’t know. We need to find her,” Hannah replied, looking around anxiously.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

They walked further, passing classrooms and offices. Suddenly, Hannah shouted, “There! Mom!” She pointed at a cleaner standing with her back to them. Michael froze, his heart pounding.

From behind, the woman did look like Simone. Hannah ran up to her and gently tugged on her sleeve. Michael approached slowly, his mind racing.

When the woman turned around, Michael realized it wasn’t Simone. The resemblance had been uncanny from behind, but up close, it was clear she was a stranger.

“Oh, you’re not my mom,” Hannah said. She stepped back, her shoulders slumping.

“Unfortunately not, sweetie,” the woman replied kindly, giving Hannah a gentle smile.

After apologizing to the woman, Michael took Hannah’s hand and led her aside. “Hannah, this isn’t your mom. I know it’s hard to lose her, but your mom is in a better place now and is always watching over you,” he said softly.

“I know this isn’t Mom! I’m not blind,” Hannah said, her eyes filling with tears. “But she was here. I swear, I saw her.”

“Okay,” Michael sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her words.For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t believe me!” Hannah shouted, her voice echoing in the hallway. “Mom always believed me!” She turned and ran away from Michael.“Hannah!” he called after her, but she kept running, her small figure disappearing down the hall.

Michael returned to his car, feeling a deep sense of guilt. He knew Hannah and Simone had a special bond. He realized he could never replace her mother, but he would try his best to be there for his daughter.

Michael took time off work and scheduled an appointment with a psychologist for Hannah that very day after school. He picked her up and explained, “We’re going to see a lady you can talk to about anything. She’s here to help.”

Hannah crossed her arms and frowned, still angry with Michael. “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she muttered.

“I know you’re upset, but this might help,” Michael said gently as they drove to the psychologist’s office.

When they arrived, the psychologist greeted them warmly. “Hi, Hannah. I’m Dr. Stevens. Would you like to come with me?” she asked with a kind smile.

Hannah glanced at Michael, then reluctantly followed Dr. Stevens.

After an hour, Dr. Stevens came out to talk to Michael. She looked thoughtful and serious.

“How did it go?” Michael asked, his voice filled with concern.

Dr. Stevens smiled reassuringly. “I don’t see any signs of psychological issues. I don’t think she’s lying. Hannah genuinely believes she sees her mother at school.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Michael frowned. “But that’s impossible. Her mother is dead.”

“I understand,” Dr. Stevens said, nodding. “But everyone grieves in their own way. Hannah might not be ready to let go of her mother. She could be seeing her in others.”

“What should I do?” Michael asked, feeling lost.

“Support her. Believe her,” Dr. Stevens advised. “She’s not lying to you. This is her reality right now.”

Michael nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay, thank you.”

He picked up Hannah, and they headed home. On the way, he glanced at her, noticing she seemed a bit calmer, less angry. He hoped this was a step in the right direction.

The next day, Michael took Hannah to school again. As they arrived, her teacher approached his car. “I have some of Hannah’s drawings to show you,” the teacher said.

Michael got out of the car, curious. “Sure, let’s see them,” he replied, following the teacher.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The teacher handed him a stack of drawings. Michael flipped through them, astonished. “These are amazing. I didn’t know Hannah could draw like this,” he said, feeling a swell of pride.

“She has real talent,” the teacher agreed.

Michael thanked the teacher and continued to look at the drawings as he walked into the hallway. He was so absorbed that he almost didn’t notice what was in front of him.

When he looked up, his heart nearly stopped. Standing there was Simone. Michael felt like he had forgotten how to breathe; his heart raced, and he couldn’t move.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Just then, Hannah ran out of her classroom, her face lighting up when she saw the woman.

“Mom!” Hannah shouted, running towards the woman who looked exactly like her late mother. She turned to Michael with a triumphant smile. “I told you I was telling the truth.”

Michael stood frozen, his mind reeling. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled, unable to form any other words.

The teacher called Hannah back, and she reluctantly returned to her classroom. Michael, still in shock, slowly approached the woman. “Simone?” he asked, his voice shaking.

The woman looked at him, clearly confused. “Excuse me?” she said.

“Simone, is it really you?” Michael asked again, his heart pounding.

“I’m sorry, sir, but my name is Evelyn,” the woman replied firmly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Evelyn said, still looking puzzled

How is this possible? How did you end up here?” Michael asked.

“Sir, I really don’t understand what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you before in my life. I think you must be mistaking me for someone else. I need to get back to work,” Evelyn said, turning to leave.

“You have a tattoo on your shoulder!” Michael shouted, desperate. Evelyn stopped in her tracks, frozen. “A chrysanthemum,” he added.

Evelyn turned around slowly, her eyes wide with surprise. “How do you know that?”

“You got it when Hannah was born. Hannah Chrysanthemum, that’s the name of the flower on your shoulder. You joked that even if Hannah grew up and forgot about you, the flower would always be with you,” Michael explained.

“Listen, this is very strange, and it’s scaring me,” she said, her eyes darting around nervously.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I also wanted to get that tattoo but was too scared. You were always braver than me,” Michael said.

“How do you know what tattoo I have? Have you been following me? First, that strange girl calls me her mother, and now you. I’m going to go crazy,” Evelyn said, her voice rising with fear.

“Please, let me explain everything. Will you have coffee with me?” Michael asked, his eyes pleading.

“I need to finish my work,” Evelyn replied, still looking wary.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Michael said, hoping she would agree.

Michael went outside and leaned against his car, his mind racing. He couldn’t believe this was real. After some time, Simone came out of the school and hesitantly approached him.

“Ready to go?” Michael asked softly.

Simone nodded, and they got into the car, driving to the nearest café. They ordered coffee. Black. Michael smiled, remembering how Simone always hated coffee with sugar or cream.

When their order arrived, Michael took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. We were married, and we have a daughter named Hannah.”

Simone looked confused but listened intently. “I don’t remember any of that,” she said softly. “Fishermen found me on the riverbank. They let me live with them, but I couldn’t remember anything about my life, not even my name. I chose the name Evelyn, but I don’t know why.”

Michael’s eyes softened. “We wanted to name our next daughter Evelyn,” he explained.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Simone’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Michael nodded. “Yes. Hannah and I would love for you to come home with us. You don’t have to decide now, but think about it.”Simone looked down at her coffee. “Okay, I’ll come with you. But I still don’t remember anything.”

Michael smiled gently. “That’s alright. We can figure it out together.”Simone had been living with Michael and Hannah for a week. Hannah was very happy and constantly reminded Michael that she had been right.

Simone was also trying to adjust to her new life. Although she still couldn’t remember anything from before, she was trying her best to fit in.

Michael decided they should sleep in separate rooms for now. He wanted Simone to feel comfortable and not pressured.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Today, after breakfast, Simone was finishing her coffee at the table while Michael washed the dishes. Hannah approached Simone with a serious look on her face.

“Mom, will you be mad at me if I quit ballet?” Hannah asked.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she asked, glancing at Michael, who stopped washing dishes to listen.

“You liked watching me dance. You wanted me to be a ballerina,” Hannah said quietly.

Simone smiled gently. “And what do you want to do?” she asked.

Hannah’s face lit up. “I want to draw!”

“Then you should draw,” Simone said. She turned to Michael. “Do you think we could enroll her in an art school?”

Michael smiled warmly. “Yes, definitely,” he replied.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yay!” Hannah shouted. She hugged Simone tightly, then ran to Michael and hugged him before dashing off to her room.

Simone watched her go, then cautiously approached Michael, holding her coffee cup. “Let me wash this,” she offered.

Michael took the cup from her hands. “It’s okay, I’ll wash it,” he said with a smile. Simone smiled back but didn’t move away. She continued to stand there, watching him.

“Is everything okay?” Michael asked, noticing her hesitation.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes,” Simone said softly. “I think I remembered something.”

Michael turned to face her. “What did you remember?”

“We were standing by the sea, and a dog ran up to us. It first knocked me over and then knocked down an arch we were standing under,” Simone said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Michael laughed. “Yes, that was our wedding. The dog was Toby, my childhood pet. He adored you and couldn’t contain his excitement. That was your favorite story from our wedding.”

Simone smiled. “I think it will still be my favorite story when I remember everything,” she said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Michael smiled back, and Simone tentatively hugged him. Michael hugged her back, trying not to splash her with water and soap. He felt warmth and hope flood through him.

Just a few weeks ago, he couldn’t have imagined feeling this happy again. As he held her, he realized how much he had missed this closeness.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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