I’ve been with Brian for years, and he’s been nothing short of amazing — kind, patient, and most importantly, a wonderful father figure to my daughter, Sophie, from my first marriage.
But his mother?
A nightmare.
From the very beginning, she never accepted Sophie. To her, Sophie was “baggage.” She’d refer to her as “that child,” never by name. Once, she even had the audacity to say to my face, “She’s not real family, you know. Brian needs a fresh start, not someone else’s leftovers.”
I should’ve walked away right then.
But I didn’t. I stayed. I tried to keep the peace. I convinced myself it was better not to rock the boat — for Brian’s sake, for Sophie’s sake. I told myself she’d come around. She didn’t.
Last month, Brian and I had to leave town unexpectedly for a family emergency. It was chaotic. Last-minute flights, canceled plans, scrambling for help. With no close friends available, the only option left was… her. Brian’s mother.
I hesitated. Hard. But she offered.
“I can take care of the girl. I’m not a monster,” she’d said with a smirk.
I had a bad feeling. But we were desperate.
During the three days we were gone, I called constantly. Every time I asked to speak to Sophie, she brushed me off.
“She’s in the bath.”
“She’s tired.”
“She’s already asleep.”
Not once did I hear Sophie’s voice. Not once.
Something felt… off. Wrong in my bones. But Brian kept telling me, “She’s old-school. Just wait till we get back.”
The second we landed, we didn’t even go home. We went straight to her house. I ran to the door and knocked. When she opened it, she looked startled. Nervous. Pale.
And then she said it.
“You shouldn’t have come so early. I didn’t expect you yet…”
My heart stopped.
I pushed past her and called out, “SOPHIE?!”
No answer.
I ran down the hall, checking every room. No toys out. No mess. No blankets on the couch. No sign of a child at all.
“SOPHIE?!” I screamed louder, my voice shaking.
That’s when Brian noticed the packed suitcase by the back door — Sophie’s suitcase. Untouched.
Then his mother muttered, almost like she was talking to herself, “She’s better off with her real blood. I did the right thing.”
I whipped around. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Brian grabbed her by the arms, demanding answers.
That’s when she said it.
“I called her father. I told him to come get her. She doesn’t belong here.”
I went numb.
Her biological father. A man with a record. A man who hadn’t seen her in years. A man I had a restraining order against — which she didn’t know had expired.
She’d given Sophie away.
Brian lost it. I collapsed.
We called the police. Hours later, Sophie was found — scared and confused, but safe, thank God. She told the officers Grandma said “Mommy didn’t want you anymore, so you’re going to live with someone else now.”
I will never forget those words. And I will never forgive her.
Brian hasn’t spoken to his mother since.
And as for Sophie? She’s home now. Safe. Loved.
And she’ll never be anyone’s “baggage” again.