My Daughter Called His Mistress Mom

Ten years into our marriage, Declan cheated on me. He came to me with the kids of the woman he’d betrayed me with, insisting they needed a father figure. Despite our daughter's tearful pleas, he remained indifferent. I didn't beg or plead; instead, I left with my daughter. Concerned she might be mistreated, I chose never to remarry. Years later, my daughter met a wonderful man. My granddaughter is adorable, and I spend my days taking care of her, enjoying a content and fulfilling life. On my sixtieth birthday, my daughter and son-in-law told me they were swamped with work, and my granddaughter had a surprise tutoring session, so we'd have to reschedule the celebration. But that evening, I stumbled upon a local video online. In a posh hotel suite, there they were—my daughter, her family, Declan, and those two kids. Six people gathered together, singing a birthday song for the woman Declan had once cheated with. My daughter even called her "Mom Sue." *** My daughter was determined to celebrate my sixtieth birthday in style. I told her not to make a fuss, but she wouldn't have it. She said she’d seen all my hard work over the years, and the celebration must be as spectacular as I deserved. Her words filled my heart with warmth and gratitude. Over the years, I had single-handedly raised my daughter, watched her grow up, marry, and have a child of her own. My son-in-law treats me with utmost respect, as if I were his own mother. My granddaughter is a sweet child who affectionately calls me "Grandma." I am genuinely happy, and the betrayal by Declan has gradually faded. So, when my daughter mentioned throwing a big birthday party, it truly moved me. I eagerly anticipated the day. As you grow older, you cherish lively gatherings and long to have your family around, which gives you something to look forward to. On the day of the celebration, I got up early. After getting ready, I took my granddaughter, Celine, to school. My daughter and son-in-law ate the breakfast I had prepared before rushing off to work. My daughter assured me that she and her husband would finish work in the morning and return early to organize the birthday celebration. I stayed home, tidying up while waiting for them. But as time went by, they still hadn't returned. Concerned something might have happened, I was about to call when my daughter phoned instead. "Mom, an unexpected issue came up at work, and Luke has something urgent as well. It’s all so last-minute. We can't take the day off, so we might have to postpone your birthday celebration..." Her voice was apologetic. I felt a bit let down, but their careers were important, so I tried to stay calm. I replied, "It's okay. Work is most important. You two focus on your jobs, and I'll..." "Hang on!" she interrupted me. "Mom, since it’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be rushing around. My friend will swing by the school this afternoon and will pick up Celine to bring her to my office. You just relax at home." Thinking about her hectic schedule and how young Celine still was, I suggested, "Maybe I should go. You're so busy, and Celine is a handful at her age. She might be a distraction for you." My daughter sounded anxious, raising her voice. "Oh, Mom, it's really no trouble for my friend. Please don’t worry. Just take it easy at home. I have a meeting soon, so I’ll talk to you later." And with that, she quickly hung up, not giving me a chance to say more. Listening to the dial tone, I sighed. My daughter had been working so hard and had even lost weight. I decided to make a hearty chicken soup for her and my son-in-law. The soup would take hours to cook, and with the housework done, I settled on the couch and pulled out my phone for a little downtime. At my age, I've developed the habit of scrolling through videos online when there's nothing else to do. As I swiped through several clips without much interest, I accidentally clicked into a local video section. And there, at first glance, I recognized the silhouette in the thumbnail—it was my daughter, Miranda.

The video had been uploaded thirty minutes ago. With a firm click, I opened it. The setting appeared to be a hotel room, and there was my daughter standing by the table, my son-in-law holding little Celine—everyone was beaming with happiness. Miranda slightly tilted her head, and the camera panned across the room. And there was Declan. If there’s someone I loathe above all others in this world, it’s Declan. In our youth, we loved each other dearly; I thought we could grow old together in bliss. Then, ten years into our marriage, his first love's husband died unexpectedly in a car crash, leaving her widowed with two young children. At first, Declan secretly helped them behind my back. When I found out, it sparked a huge row, and he had the audacity to call me heartless in his rage. Not long after, he presented me with divorce papers, cradling her two children in his arms. “Brooklyn and Ares are too young to grow up without a father,” he said. He wanted a divorce so he could be with his first love and play father to her kids. As he said this, our daughter, Miranda, clung to his leg, crying and pleading with him not to leave. But Declan turned away and walked out without a second glance. I didn’t agonize over closure; I took a significant portion of his wealth and left with Miranda. I changed her last name to mine, Sofia, to ensure she was shielded from a potentially abusive stepfather. I never remarried, dedicating myself to raising her, watching her grow, get into college, fall in love, get married, and have little Celine. Throughout this, Declan stayed away completely. Occasionally, I'd hear that he and his first love chose not to have more children, instead raising her two as his own, devoting himself wholly to them. Miranda once confided in me that she hated Declan just as deeply as I did. I assumed her memories of our divorce would keep my pain fresh in her mind, steering her clear of him. But I hadn’t expected that they were still in touch! In the video, Miranda was there with Declan, talking softly, without a trace of animosity. They even led the group in singing “Happy Birthday” together. Luke, Celine, and those now grown-up kids joined in. At the center of this gathering was the woman who had been Declan’s first love, Gwendolyn. She looked as radiant as ever, wearing a stunning Victorian-style dress. Surrounded by everyone, she was the center of attention, living like a queen. She shares the same birthday as me. Even more outrageous—my daughter, who means the world to me, finished the birthday song, went over to Gwendolyn, hugged her, and called her “Mom.”