It all started when my son Ryan brought home a woman 20 years older than him and announced she was moving in. At first, I stayed quiet, but I had a plan. By the time they realized the weight of their actions, it was too late.
After my husband Daniel passed away three years ago, all I wanted was for Ryan to find happiness. I dreamed of him settling down with someone who would love him as much as I did.
Ryan had always been a free spirit, but in his late teens, he started to mature, eventually getting a stable job and finding a passion for traveling. Still living at home at 30, I hoped he’d find someone special. So, when he mentioned a woman named Lydia from his trip to France, I was eager to meet her. But I had no idea what was in store.
When Ryan finally introduced me to Lydia, I was shocked. She was only a few years younger than me. She wasn’t the young, bubbly woman I had expected. I tried to keep my thoughts to myself, but things took a strange turn when Ryan told me Lydia was moving in.
I reluctantly agreed, though things quickly became uncomfortable. Lydia began to take over, redecorating without asking and making decisions I didn’t approve of. The final straw came when she suggested I move out so she could turn the master bedroom into her office.
In a moment of frustration, I signed the house over to Ryan. When Lydia and Ryan were hit with the reality of homeownership costs, they begged me to take it back. I did, but the damage was done. I realized that while I still loved my son, it was time to focus on myself more.
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