My mother disowned me because I married a single mother — but when she saw our life 3 years later, she burst into tears

“If you marry her, never ask me for anything again.”

I chose Elise.

And my mother disappeared.

Our imperfect little life

We got married in a garden decorated with fairy lights. We moved into a modest apartment, with a lemon tree in the courtyard and drawers that stuck.

Mathis painted his room green, leaving handprints on the wall.

One day, at the supermarket, he looked up at me:

“Dad, can we have the marshmallow ones?”

He didn’t realize what he had just said.
I did.

Our life was simple. Elise worked nights. I prepared lunch and took Mathis to school. On Saturdays, we danced in our socks in the living room.

This was not the inheritance my mother had imagined.

It was better.

His return

Three years later, she called me.

“I’ll come by tomorrow. I’d like to see why you gave it all up.”

I didn’t try to hide anything. The refrigerator covered in magnets remained exactly as it was. So did the second-hand sofa.

When she entered, her heels clicked on the tiles. Her gaze swept over the pencil marks, the messy shoe cabinet, the old upright piano with its worn varnish.

Mathis arrived with a carton of fruit juice. He sat down at the piano and began to play a piece by Chopin — the one she used to make me practice as a child.