When I got there, Mom was washing dishes like nothing was wrong. But I saw the sadness in her eyes. I marched upstairs, knocked on the door of the master bedroom — Jessica’s room — and told her the floor was now her place. I moved her stuff out and set up the air mattress for her. The master suite? That now belonged to Mom. Jessica and Peter were livid. But I didn’t care.
That night, Mom slept in a real bed. For the first time in years, she woke up rested — and smiling. Jessica pouted. Her family left early. But my mother? She swam, laughed, and soaked in every moment she deserved. Before we left, Mom hugged me tightly and whispered, “Thank you for seeing me.” And I told her, “You’ve always mattered, Mom. Always.” Because real family fights for you — not against you.
