When my parents divorced, instead of sadness, I felt a sense of relief. Their constant tension had made our home uncomfortable. Over the years, I encouraged my mother to move forward and find someone who made her happy. Eventually, she called to share exciting news—she had a boyfriend named Aaron, a pastry chef, and wanted me to meet him. I was genuinely happy for her and agreed to join them for dinner.

To make a good impression, I bought a bottle of wine despite my tight budget. My goal of opening a restaurant kept me financially strained, so this was a big gesture. When I arrived, my mom welcomed me warmly, but my happiness quickly turned to shock when I saw Aaron—he was around my age. I was speechless, overwhelmed by the awkwardness and disbelief. My emotions escalated, and I accused him of chasing my mom’s money, even demanding they break up. My mom stood firm and revealed they were getting married in two months.

Still unsettled, I spent days thinking about the situation and eventually reached out to make peace. I told her I supported her relationship if it made her happy. She was thrilled and asked me to help plan the wedding. I joined her in choosing dresses, tasting cakes, and setting up the decorations. Despite my efforts, I couldn’t shake my doubts about Aaron. However, I found no real reason to distrust him and started to consider that maybe he truly loved her.

On the wedding day, as we rushed to the venue, my mom realized she had forgotten her phone. I offered to go back and get it. At the house, I stumbled upon a locked drawer and found documents revealing Aaron’s massive debts and forged property papers signed in my mother’s name. Horrified, I ran to the ceremony and interrupted it, handing the evidence to my mom. She was devastated.

After the wedding was called off, my mom thanked me for uncovering the truth. She realized how love had clouded her judgment. Our bond grew stronger, rooted in honesty, mutual care, and the importance of protecting each other from harm—even when it’s difficult.