Lisa sat comfortably on the sofa, a light blanket draped over her legs, as she snuggled against Carla. The flickering glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, illuminating their shared laughter and the cozy atmosphere. They were both lost in the movie, its plot unraveling around them while the world outside faded away. The distant sounds of the cobbled street were muffled, allowing them to retreat into their own little bubble, where every moment felt blissfully perfect.
Carla glanced at Lisa, a smile tugging at her lips, as they exchanged knowing glances filled with warmth and affection. It was one of those serene afternoons where time felt irrelevant, and it was easy to forget about everything beyond the walls of their flat. Just as Lisa was about to nestle closer into Carla’s side, the front door burst open with an explosive force, shattering the peace that enveloped them.
Betsy stormed in, her presence an abrupt storm cloud overshadowing their sunny sanctuary. Her face was flushed, eyes glistening from tears that had clearly been shed. Anger radiated from her, palpable and unrestrained, catching both Lisa and Carla off guard.
“I found something today!” Betsy called out, her voice sharp and filled with urgency. The familiar warmth that had enveloped the room seconds ago was instantly replaced by a heavy tension.
Lisa's heart sank, her comfortable bubble bursting in an instant. She shifted, instinctively leaning away from the comforting warmth of Carla, her focus now fixated on Betsy, whose eyes burned with a fierce intensity. “Betsy, what’s the matter?” Lisa managed, her tone instinctively soothing, yet betraying an undercurrent of worry.
With a deep breath, Betsy advanced, the crumpled note clutched tightly in her fist like a lifeline. As she reached the coffee table, she slammed the paper down with urgency. “This. I found this in a box of mum’s things. Why didn’t you tell me that Becky wrote this? Why didn’t you tell me the truth about... everything?” Each word dripped with a mixture of betrayal and raw emotion, weighing heavily on the air between them.
Lisa’s heart raced as she recognised the piece of paper. The color drained from her face, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable under the weight of her daughter’s accusations. “Betsy, I—”
“Please, just tell me what I need to know!” Betsy interrupted, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. It was as if a dam had broken; all the frustrations and unanswered questions had come flooding out at once.
Carla sat wide-eyed on the edge of her seat, her eyes darting between the two—first to Betsy, whose face was a kaleidoscope of emotions, then to Lisa, whose panic was plain to see. She remained silent, a mere observer to the charged confrontation, her mind racing with unasked questions, the weight of the moment pressing heavily upon her. The atmosphere crackled with tension, an unspoken understanding that this was far more than just words on paper; it was a confrontation of buried secrets and fractured trust that had been waiting for a moment like this to erupt.
—————————————————
Earlier that day
On a rare and precious day off from the relentless grind of the factory, Betsy found herself nestled into the inviting embrace of the sofa in Carla’s flat. The small apartment, adorned with modern pieces of art and soft hues, had rapidly morphed into a sanctuary since she and her mother had made the move just a few months prior. The morning light streamed through the sheer curtains, casting delicate patterns on the floor, while the ambient sound of the television murmured in the background—just enough of a distraction to keep the silence at bay.
With the beeping of factory machines replaced by the soft dialogue of a sitcom, Betsy's mind slowly began to wander. Each flicker of the TV screen only amplified her thoughts, drawing her deeper into a contemplative haze about her mother. Though she felt a swell of happiness for the newfound joy and love her mum had discovered with Carla, a pang of melancholy gripped her heart. The memories of Becky—her other mother—rose unbidden to the surface, tinged with sweet sorrow. The ghost of Becky loomed large in her mind, a loving presence now painfully absent, as she recalled the enduring spirit that had once enriched their lives.
Betsy let herself drift into the sanctuary of her memories, enveloped by a wave of nostalgia. The laughter shared during family game nights, the comforting scent of Becky’s cooking wafting through their home, and the warmth of hugs that felt like home—all became vivid scenes in her imagination. Here, in the solace of the empty flat, she felt safe enough to allow her tears to flow, each drop a testament to the love and loss she carried in her heart. It was a strange contradiction—mourning and cherishing at the same time, as bittersweet recollections washed over her like a tide.
Driven by a quiet longing, Betsy resolved to seek out some of her mother's old belongings, hoping that the act of sifting through those remnants would offer her a fleeting sense of connection to her past. As she began to rummage through a stack of worn boxes piled discreetly in a corner, a musty scent wafted through the air—an unmistakable mix of aged paper and forgotten memories. With each box she opened, she unearthed a treasure trove of artifacts from days gone by: dusty knickknacks that had lost their shine, faded photographs stuck together, and toys that had once sparked unbridled joy.
Betsy’s heart raced as she lifted each item, each one carrying with it a piece of her history. Memories surged around her like a gentle storm, swirling with the laughter and love that had defined her family before grief had cast its long shadow. In this intimate moment, surrounded by the echoes of her past, Betsy felt a profound sense of connection—a bridge spanning the gap between the joyful memories of her mother and the present day. Each object whispered stories of love, resilience, and the life they had shared, stirring both her heart and her spirit in ways she had craved since the day Becky had left their world.
Among the clutter, her fingers brushed against a faded photo album, its edges frayed and pages curled with age. Intrigued, she pulled it from the depths of the box, its weight feeling surprisingly significant in her hands. The cover, once vibrant, was now a dull hue, but it still bore the traces of joyful times past. Carefully, she opened it, revealing a treasure trove of images that captured smiles, hugs, and precious moments of a life before loss.
As she turned the pages, each photo seemed to leap out at her: birthday cakes decorated with colorful icing, family trips to the beach with salty hair and sandy toes, snapshots of laughter shared over homemade meals. It was as if these images were stirring echoes of voices long gone, reminding her of the warmth that had wrapped around her in those carefree days.
Then, as she turned to a particularly worn page, a slip of paper fluttered down, landing softly on her lap. It caught her eye—delicate cursive intertwined with playful flourishes decorated its surface. “To my dear Betsy, open when you turn 18.” The note was signed by Becky, the name sending a jolt through her as she read the words alone in the quiet of the living room, the dull sounds of the tv fading away. A rush of emotions swept over her, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling together. What could her mother have wanted to tell her on such an important milestone?
Reading the note, confusion and sorrow tangled painfully in her chest, stirring up a maelstrom of long-buried questions. Each carefully written word felt like a revelation wrapped in secrecy, striking at the heart of her understanding of family. She could almost hear the echo of her mother’s laughter in the moments captured on those pages, yet it now felt hauntingly absent, amplifying her sense of loss.
With every page, the discrepancies in Lisa’s and Becky’s stories about her conception gnawed at her—truths that didn’t align. Betsy could feel the accusations whispering in her mind, hinting at hidden truths that threatened to shatter the idealised memory she had of her family’s story. She couldn’t suppress the growing sense of urgency; a fire ignited in her as she flipped through the faded pages, and each turn deepened her resolve.
**************
*“My beloved Betsy,*
*If you are reading this, you have reached a significant moment in your life, and I hope more than anything I am there with you. I want you to know that you were brought into this world through love—more love than I can ever express. I have cherished every moment we have shared so far, and I hold you in my heart now and always.*
*There is something I have kept hidden from you, out of fear and hesitation, and I need to speak my truth. Your story is not as simple as I once led you to believe. I have always told you that you were conceived through IVF with Lisa as your mother—but the reality is more complicated. One night, during a vulnerable moment in my life, I made a grave mistake. I had a one-night stand, and the circumstances that followed changed everything.*
*Lisa is not your biological mother, though she loves you like her own. You see, I feared that revealing this truth to you before you were ready might hurt you more than help you. I wanted you to have a happy childhood, free from confusion and pain. I thought it was best to keep this information from you, believing that one day, when you were older and could understand, I would explain everything.*
*Please know that both Lisa and I love you deeply. She has embraced you as her own daughter, and I have watched you grow with pride and admiration. The family bonds we have formed are no less real just because of biology. You are every bit a part of us, and our love for you transcends any bloodline.*
*I am so, so sorry that I didn’t have the courage to tell you this earlier. You deserve the truth. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for my silence and the secrets I have kept. I wanted to protect you, but in doing so, I know I have caused you pain. Trust that I had nothing but the best intentions.*
*Whenever you feel lost or confused, remember that love is the greatest truth we have, and nothing will ever change how much we both love you. May you find strength in knowing that you are a beautiful blend of two women who adore you wholly.*
*With all my love, forever and always,*
*Mum”*
**************
Determined and heart racing, she knew she couldn’t leave these revelations unaddressed. She steeled herself for the confrontation that lay ahead, her fingers brushing over the crumpled note one last time. As the realisation settled in, she packed away the boxes, slipped the note into her pocket and made her way out of the flat, the sound of raindrops pattering on the cobbles now mirroring the tumult within her heart, each drop a reminder that her world was about to change.
——————————————
“Please, just tell me what I need to know!” Betsy interrupted, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. It was as if a dam had broken; all the frustrations and unanswered questions had come flooding out at once.
Lisa sat motionless, her gaze locked onto her daughter’s pained expression, feeling as if she were staring into an abyss of unresolved emotions. She struggled to find the right words, grappling with the enormity of the situation. She hadn’t anticipated this confrontation, nor did she know how to explain the complexities of their shared history. In her mind, she had always known that one day, both she and Becky would sit down with Betsy to unveil the truth behind her origins, but with Becky’s untimely passing, that future had felt irreparably altered. Now, here was Betsy, caught in a whirlwind of anger and confusion, and Lisa felt paralysed, unsure of how to navigate this turbulent moment.
For years, Lisa had clung to the hope that the note Becky had written would remain hidden, a secret kept from Betsy to protect her from additional pain. She had sensed that her daughter lived with an underlying fear of losing both of her mothers, and the idea of revealing Becky’s hidden truth felt like a heavy burden that would only amplify Betsy's grief. The thought of adding more heartache to an already fragile and emotional teenager twisted Lisa’s insides with guilt.
As Lisa sat trapped in her own turmoil, she cast a furtive glance at Carla, who was right next to her but seemed a world away. Carla sat silently, her features painted with confusion as she watched this emotional exchange unfold. Lisa desperately sought solace in her girlfriend's presence, yearning for the strength Carla usually provided. But today was different; today, the weight of secrets loomed too large to bear.
While they had frequently discussed the challenges of Lisa’s relationship with Betsy, Lisa had never shared the deeper truths embedded in their family dynamics. This conversation marked territory that felt too raw and damaging to expose, even to someone as close as Carla. Lisa felt the pressure of unspoken apologies and regrets swirling around her—feelings she had long tucked away but could no longer ignore. In that moment, surrounded by the weight of unanswered questions and the tremors of Betsy’s pain, Lisa grappled with the fragile strands of their family history, knowing that the truth was needed but fearing the heartbreak it would inevitably cause.
Betsy’s voice sliced through the haze of Lisa’s tumultuous thoughts like a sudden bell tolling in a quiet room. “Mum, please! Or should I even call you that now?!” Each word was laced with desperation and anger, echoing off the walls and reverberating in Lisa’s chest. The intensity of Betsy’s tone pierced through Lisa's emotional fog, leaving her breathless. The thought of her daughter questioning her role in her life felt like a dagger, twisting deeper within her heart at the possibility that Betsy might no longer see her as her mother.
Lisa's heart ached at the mere implication that Betsy might withdraw the title 'Mum' from their relationship. It was a title that transcended biology; it was a bond, a deep-seated connection nurtured over years filled with love and guidance. Despite the truth of her not being Betsy's biological mother, Lisa had embraced the role wholeheartedly. She had dedicated herself to being there for Betsy through the highs and lows, and to have that title called into question shattered her sense of identity and purpose.
Amidst the tension, Carla—the usually steadfast anchor in Lisa’s life—finally found her voice. Until that moment, she had remained painfully silent, observing the unraveling conversation with a perplexed expression etched on her face. “Lisa, what’s going on?” she asked, her tone calm yet tinged with confusion and concern. The abruptness of her words broke through the charged atmosphere like a fresh breeze entering a stagnant room. Carla’s eyes darted between Lisa and Betsy, trying to grasp the gravity of the situation. She could feel the emotional weight bearing down on them, but the reason behind Betsy’s anguish remained cloaked in mystery.
Carla had always known that there were undercurrents of tension in Lisa's relationship with Betsy, but this felt like a volcanic eruption. Why was the teenager so upset? What had led to this emotional standoff? And most importantly, why would she ever consider renouncing the title of 'Mum' for someone who had been there for her so unwaveringly? The unanswered questions hung heavily in the air, intensifying the urgency of the moment, leaving Carla desperate for clarity. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the note hidden away was somehow central to this unraveling, yet its contents remained an enigma, clouding the already fraught exchange.
“Betsy, I can explain,” Lisa started, her voice shaking as she stood up and stepped closer, but her strides faltered as Betsy held up a hand, cutting her off.
“Explain what? That you lied to me my entire life?” Betsy’s voice trembled, each word dripping with betrayal.
Carla, sensing the urgency, intervened, “No one is lying to you, Betsy. I’m sure there’s just been a misunderstanding—”
“Misunderstanding?” Betsy echoed incredulously, her tears threatening to spill. “This is my life we’re talking about! I thought Lisa was my biological mum. I thought my life was one way, and now…now it’s all a lie!”
Lisa’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears, her lips trembling. “It was Becky’s choice, sweetheart. She wanted to protect you. I promised her I wouldn’t say anything. I thought—”
“You thought what?” Betsy interrupted, her anger morphing into sorrow. “You thought keeping me in the dark was protecting me? I deserve to know who I am! Who I come from!”
Carla stepped closer to Lisa, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, a gesture of support and solidarity. “Lisa, maybe you should tell her everything. She deserves to hear it from you, not just the note.”
Betsy’s gaze flickered to Carla, searching for understanding. “And you knew about this?” she demanded, her voice rising. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”
“No, I didn’t!” Carla exclaimed, shaking her head in protest.
Lisa clenched her jaw, looking back at Betsy. “I didn’t tell anyone, including Carla, because I thought it was what Becky would have wanted. You were a miracle, no matter how you came to be. I loved you like my own, and nothing will change that.”
Betsy looked between the two women, the weight of her emotions pulling her in multiple directions. “How could you do this to me?” she whispered, fighting back fresh tears.
“Because I was scared,” Lisa finally admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought if I told you the truth, it would only add to your pain. I wanted to be your mum, Betsy- No, i am your mum. I wanted to keep you safe, and I thought I could do that by keeping the past hidden. Losing Becks was so hard on both of us and you had already told me that you were scared of losing me too.”
Betsy shook her head, the pieces of her life feeling impossibly scattered. “But now the truth is out! What do I even believe anymore?”
Carla moved, putting her arms around Betsy. “It’s okay to be angry, Betsy. It’s okay to feel lost. But you’re not alone in this. We all love you. We can work through this together.”
Slowly, Betsy melted into Carla’s embrace, the warmth of her support wrapping around her like a blanket. But somewhere deep inside, a question took root in her heart: Could life ever return to normal again? Could she accept Lisa as her mum when everything she believed about their relationship was built on a lie?
“I need time to think.” Betsy said at last, her voice soft but a sense of betrayal still bubbling inside her.
With those words hanging heavy in the air, Betsy tore herself away from Carla’s comforting embrace. Her heart raced as she turned and stormed out of the flat, the door slamming behind her with an echo that felt like a gunshot.
Lisa stood frozen for a moment, her face pale, eyes wide as she processed her daughter’s abrupt departure. Then, as if a dam had burst, the tears spilled over. She sank onto the sofa, her body shaking with sobs she had been holding back for too long.
“Oh, Carla, what have I done?” Lisa cried, her voice cracking, the weight of guilt crashing down upon her.
Carla sighed heavily, moving to sit beside her. “You did what you thought was best, Lisa. You wanted to protect her, and you still care for her deeply.”
“But look at what that protection cost!” Lisa replied, her face buried in her hands. “I’ve shattered everything she thought she knew! I can’t believe I kept this from her for so long. How could I do that to my own child?”
Carla rubbed Lisa’s back, trying to provide comfort as she listened to the torrent of emotions spilling out. “You didn’t want to hurt her, and you thought you were doing the right thing. It’s okay to feel this way, but you have to remember that Betsy will always need time to process. You have to trust that she’ll come back when she’s ready.”
“But what if she doesn’t?” Lisa gasped, her breath hitching. “What if I’ve destroyed our relationship forever? What if she never sees me as her mum again?”
Carla reassured her gently. “Right now, it’s important to let her breathe. You can’t rush her through this. She’ll need space, yes, but let her also feel how much you love her. That won’t change just because the truth has come out.”
Lisa lifted her gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But it felt like I lost her the moment she walked out. I can’t blame her for being angry. I feel like I’ve failed her.”
“You didn’t fail. You made a choice out of love,” Carla insisted, trying to be strong for Lisa in this moment of fragility. “It doesn’t change the love you have for each other. You’ve got to trust that she’ll come to terms with it in her own way.”
The sound of Lisa's sobs shifted from pain to a more subdued sadness, her breath strangled but slowing. “I just want her to forgive me. I don’t want to lose my little girl.”
Carla took a breath, feeling the gravity of the moment, relaying the truth she believed as she said, “She’ll need time, Lisa. You need to let her figure this out. And when she’s ready, show her you’ll always be there for her.”
Minutes passed in silence, save for Lisa’s quiet tears, until she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “How do I do that? How do I fix this?”
“For now,” Carla started, carefully choosing her words, “let her know you’re here. Respect her space, yes, but reach out when it feels right. Maybe write her a letter, let her know your heart, and remind her of your love. She'll need that when it all settles down.”
Lisa nodded slowly, wiping her eyes as she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Thank you, Carla. I just want to make it right.”
Carla squeezed Lisa’s hand gently, her heart aching for both women caught in this whirlwind of emotion. “You will. Family is complicated, but love can always find a way back. Have faith in her heart, and in yours.”
Together, they sat on the sofa in the quiet aftermath, unsure of what would come next but bonded in that moment of understanding. Betsy was out there, alone and grappling with the enormity of their shared truth, but hope flickered in Lisa's heart that her daughter would come home—when she was ready.