“Every Month, My Son Secretly Sends Me a Large Portion of His Salary: All He Asks Is That I Never Tell His Wife”

As a single mother, watching Alexander grow into the man he is today has been both my greatest challenge and my most profound joy. His father, Bryan, walked out on us when Alexander was barely two, leaving a void that I struggled to fill alone. The small apartment we lived in, a modest inheritance from my late aunt, became our sanctuary, a place where we built a life out of the remnants of our shattered family.

Alexander was always a sensitive and caring child, traits that only deepened as he grew older. When he married Ella, a bright and ambitious woman, I thought he had found his perfect match. They seemed happy, and as a mother, Alexander’s happiness was my ultimate wish. However, about a year into their marriage, Alexander started sending me a significant portion of his salary every month. “It’s just to help out, Mom,” he’d say. “Please, don’t tell Ella about this.”

At first, I was touched by his generosity. I knew they were saving for a house and had their financial burdens, yet Alexander insisted on supporting me. I couldn’t help but feel proud of the compassionate man I had raised. But as months turned into years, the secrecy of these transactions began to weigh heavily on me. The lie, by omission, felt like a betrayal to Ella, who had become like a daughter to me.

The situation took a turn for the worse when Ella accidentally discovered one of the transactions. Feeling betrayed and hurt, she confronted Alexander, and the argument that ensued was unlike any other. Ella felt that Alexander’s loyalty was divided and that their plans for the future were compromised by his financial support to me. Alexander, on the other hand, felt torn between his duty to his wife and his desire to support the woman who had raised him alone.

The fallout was devastating. Ella moved out to stay with her sister, Ruby, leaving Alexander distraught and me riddled with guilt. In trying to support me, Alexander had inadvertently jeopardized his marriage. The secret that was meant to protect our family had instead created a chasm between its members.

As I sit in my apartment now, the silence is a stark reminder of the cost of secrets. Alexander visits less frequently, the weight of his broken marriage too much to bear in my presence. Ella and Alexander are in counseling, trying to salvage what’s left of their relationship, but the path to reconciliation seems fraught with challenges.

I can’t help but wonder if things would have been different had I refused Alexander’s financial support from the beginning. The pride I felt in his generosity has been replaced by a deep sense of regret. In trying to keep our small family afloat, I fear I may have contributed to its undoing.