My mom died in a car accident. One moment she was here, and the next, she was gone. That’s how quickly everything can change.
She was the first person I’d call with good news and the one I’d text dumb memes to at 2 a.m. She was the voice in my head that reassured me I could handle things when I didn’t think I could.
A year later, my dad called to invite me to dinner with him and Lena, my aunt. I didn’t think much of it. Lena had been helping him after Mom’s death, bringing casseroles, keeping things together.
When I arrived, the house smelled like lemon cleaner and roasted chicken. Lena greeted me, wearing my mom’s apron. It was strange, but I didn’t think too much about it. Inside, everything was perfect—almost like Mom had just finished cleaning.
The dinner felt strange. Lena seemed to anticipate Dad’s every need, almost like she knew him better than he knew himself. Then, Dad told me they were getting married. I was blindsided.
They’d been leaning on each other after Mom died, and they’d realized they cared about each other. It was fast. Too fast. But I didn’t say anything. I wanted Dad to be happy.
Over the next few weeks, Lena was everywhere. People kept telling me how great she was, how Mom would’ve wanted this. But I wasn’t sure if that was true. Still, I kept my feelings to myself.
Then, my grandmother pulled me aside. She had something to show me. We went to her house, and she brought out a box of old photos and notebooks. Lena had always copied Mom. She wanted to be Adrienne, to be chosen. And when Mom was gone, she stepped into her life—into her role.
Lena had been manipulating Dad. She didn’t love him; she just filled a space. I couldn’t let this go on.
I rushed to the wedding. Just as the ceremony was starting, I stepped in and exposed the truth. Lena had been pretending to be Mom. She didn’t love Dad; she’d just waited until he was too broken to tell the difference.
The room was silent. Dad stepped back. It was over.