My name is Lisa, and I used to believe Frederick’s mother loved me.
Every time I entered her house, she would smile sweetly and announce loudly,
“I am so happy that my son has found himself a good woman. I’m so proud of him.”
Everyone laughed.
I laughed too.
But something about the way she looked at me made those words feel like an insult.
Then, one evening, Frederick came home unusually quiet.
His mother had invited us to dinner.
When I arrived, another woman was sitting beside her.
Beautiful. Confident. Comfortable.
Frederick froze when he saw her.
His mother smiled.
“I’m so happy my son has found himself a good woman,” she said mockingly.
Then she looked at the stranger.
“This is the woman I believe should replace Lisa.”
My heart stopped.
And Frederick said nothing.
