From the moment I met James, I knew his mother, Evelyn, would be a problem. She was possessive, passive-aggressive, and constantly undermined me, even after James and I married.
When our daughter Willa was born, Evelyn questioned everything—from her hair to her parentage. Years later, during a Father’s Day dinner, she dramatically accused me of cheating and claimed Willa wasn’t James’s child, waving a DNA test as proof.
She was right—but not how she thought.
My mother calmly revealed the truth: James is sterile, and Willa was conceived through a donor—with James’s full consent. Evelyn, shocked and humiliated, walked out and cut ties.
James stood by us, choosing love over blood. Willa is deeply loved—by James, by me, and by my mother, who moved in and filled our home with joy and stories.
We lost Evelyn. But we kept our peace. And the love that mattered? It stayed.