I only had daughters, but they weren’t the sons I imagined. But when I returned, my daughter’s words broke me in a way I never could have predicted… 😱
Every evening, my daughters were always the first to greet me, and I forced a smile, even as disappointment grew inside me.
Why, in a family where there were always men, was I the only one who didn’t have a son?
In my mind, my legacy was important. My grandfather had sons. My father had sons. And I had three daughters.
The burden of whispers in the village grew heavier. “Who will carry the family name?”
When my wife became pregnant again, and the doctor told me it was a boy, I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. I thought this moment would finally change something. But time showed me a different truth.
My son didn’t have the traits I recognized in myself. His fair skin, almond-shaped eyes, and wide forehead were so different from mine. One day, unable to bear it any longer, I asked coldly, “Are you sure he’s my son?”
She didn’t answer, her tears flowing silently. But my eldest daughter, twelve years old, gave me a look that struck me more deeply than any words.
I left without saying a word. With another woman, younger, who promised me sons. I thought things would get better.
But one day, in the rain, I returned. I was ready to tell my wife that this time I was leaving for good. But when I entered the house, I found only my daughters sitting in the living room. The silence was oppressive.
My eldest daughter broke the silence:
“Daddy… Mommy…” Her words shocked me, and I was left with my mouth open. 😱
As soon as I opened the door, I saw my daughters sitting peacefully. Our eldest daughter approached, pointed to the bedroom, and coldly uttered a single phrase:
– “Dad, Mom has left… come and look at me for the last time…”
I was left stunned.
I hurried inside. My wife lay there, white as paper, her hands still clutching the unfinished letter. My son had been taken to the neighbors. She’d taken a sleeping pill…
I screamed, shook my wife, and called for help. But it was too late.
The last letter consisted of just a few lines:
“I am truly sorry. I left my son because I thought he would love me more.
But when you left, I realized I’d lost everything. If there’s another life, I want to be a mother to my children again, even if I can’t be a woman for you anymore.”
I remained there, frozen on the floor, my head in my hands, listening to my daughter’s cries echo in my chest like a knife. As for the mistress, upon learning I was a man without a wife, she broke up with me in a panic and fled into the night.
