Ten years after my dad passed, my mom said she was dating someone but kept his name secret. I was happy for her—until she showed up to dinner holding my ex’s hand.
Adil. The one who cheated, ghosted, and broke me. My mom introduced him proudly, clueless. Later, I told her everything. She said he’d told her we’d dated “messily” and that people change. I felt betrayed.
At brunch, she admitted he’d called himself “Ali” and only confessed the truth weeks in. That’s when I realized—he’d known all along.
I confronted him. He claimed it “just happened.” Typical Adil. I exposed his lies to my mom, and she ended things.
Weeks later, another woman messaged me—same man, same lies. Then more women came forward. Turns out, he’d been juggling relationships across cities, even faking work trips. His company found out and fired him.
Karma, my mom said.
We healed after that—talked about Dad, loneliness, and how easily love can blur into desperation.
Now, we’re closer than ever. Because real love never costs your peace.
