I went to pick up my wife after she gave birth, but she had left with our triplets, so she wasn’t there. Years later, she was waiting at the door when someone rang the bell. I’m a young man who was in love with a beautiful and sweet woman named at one point. I had trouble seeing my day without her. After a few months of dating, she moved in with me. Later on, we were married. I truly wanted children, but Masha insisted on putting off having them. My dream to become a father was miraculously granted when my wife became pregnant.
Her weak body caused her to have a really hard time at this period. After a challenging labor, the woman gave birth to triplets—two boys and a girl—as the nurse informed me when she emerged a few hours later. I was jumping, shouting, and running because I was so happy. I went back home to get the necessary things. By the time I returned to the maternity unit, my wife had disappeared. The doctors told me that Maria had walked out on her own.
I called my parents and described the issue. My parents, who were lucky to not live too far away, came on the same day as me. Together, my parents and I raised the children. The triplets all graduated with honors after attending kindergarten before beginning school. They were all outstanding students that attended college. But I was left on my own. I stopped believing in women, so I never got married again.
One day, the kids and I were having lunch when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. My daughter answered the door to find my ex-wife standing there. She asked to go inside, and I gave her a cup of coffee. She started hunting for an explanation as soon as we began talking about our childhood. At last, she acknowledged that she didn’t feel any love for me or the kids just now. While she was sitting there, she said that she now wanted to mend her relationship with the kids. She also asked for money because she had nowhere to live. It took us aback.
It became clear why she had come back so suddenly. Speaking to the children wasn’t a problem for me, but only when my mother wasn’t putting her own needs first. I gave her the order to vacate the residence and to never return to our lives. She persisted, bringing child support cases against me in court. It’s clear that she lost the case.
After the court, she screamed at the kids and me. At that moment, my daughter said, “I’ve dreamed about having a mother my entire life.” Seeing the happy, two-parent families of my friends was incredibly difficult for me. I longed for your kind words of wisdom and supportive embraces. But I’ve realized that it’s not essential to have a mother like you.
Since then, Maria has not been seen by us. Assuming my role, how would you respond?