What she didn’t know was that I’d recorded her—and had the café’s speakers play it for everyone to hear.
The room went silent. John was stunned. He walked out.
A week later, he invited me to his restaurant. This time, he’d reserved the best table. “You were right,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
I smiled. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
I wasn’t just his mother—I was the quiet strength behind everything he’d become.
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