My Daughter Called Her Mommy… Not Me

I woke up to a silence that felt wrong. My head was pounding, heavy and sharp at the same time.

Then I sat up.

Nana’s bed was empty.

My heart dropped straight into my stomach.

“Nana?” I called out, already standing, already panicking.

I ran down the hallway, checking her room again like she might magically appear. Bathroom. Living room. Kitchen.

“Nana!” My voice cracked.

Nothing.

My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone when I called my mother.

She picked up after a few rings, sounding perfectly awake. Perfectly calm.

“Oh,” she said lightly. “You’re finally up.”

“Where is my daughter?” I asked. I was barely breathing. “Where’s Nana?”

“With us,” she replied like it was obvious. “It’s her birthday. Of course she’s with family.”

My knees almost gave out. “You took her? While I was asleep? Without telling me?!”

She sighed, long and dramatic. “Miya, you were exhausted. We didn’t want to wake you up in that state.”

“In that state?” My voice rose. “You had no right! She’s my child.”

“Hanabi and Gusion organized something special,” she continued, ignoring me. “A real party. Balloons, performers, hundred of kids. Not some pathetic dolphin show. Pff! She’s smiling so much. You should be grateful someone is finally doing this properly.”

My fingers dug into my palm. “Give me the phone. Let me talk to her. Right now.”

There was a pause. Then a soft laugh.

“Don’t ruin her mood, daughter,” my mother said. “She’s happy. For once. Don't be a killjoy like you always used to be."

“Killjoy?” I choked. “I am here real mother! Do you even hear yourself?”

“Miya,” she said slowly, like she was explaining something simple to a stupid person, “you need to stop clinging. Gusion has moved on. He love Hanabi and Hanabi will be a better influence. She’s calmer. Healthier. She has time.”

Something dark twisted in my chest. “You’re saying she’ll replace me.”

“I’m saying,” my mother replied coldly, “that maybe Nana deserves someone who isn’t always pretending to be sick, crying, or causing scenes.”

My vision went white.

“Bring my daughter home,” I said, shaking. “If you don’t—”

“Enough!" she snapped. “Stop being selfish.”

The line went dead.

I stood there staring at my phone, my whole body trembling. I felt small. Powerless. Like I had no right to my own child.

My thumb moved on its own.

I opened Instagram. And my heart shattered all over again.

The first post was Hanabi’s.

A clean, glossy photo. Her hand intertwined with Gusion’s. The engagement ring shining right in the center.

"Fate brought us together. Love made us brave. Counting down the days until I become Mrs. Colombo."

Thousands of likes.

Hundreds of comments.

“Finally! You two make so much more sense.”

“She looks way more suitable than his wife, sorry not sorry!”

“I always felt he married the wrong one.”

“True love wins in the end.”

People I knew. People who smiled at me. People who attended my wedding.

Then I scrolled.

Another photo loaded.

I stopped breathing.

Nana.

Sitting on Gusion’s lap. Laughing. Her arms wrapped around Hanabi’s neck. Hanabi kissing her cheek. Gusion smiling like this was his real family.

Like I never existed.

A sharp pain exploded behind my eyes. My head started spinning, the pounding unbearable. I fumbled for the painkillers on the nightstand, my hands clumsy and weak. I swallowed two without water.

It didn’t help.

My mouth filled with a metallic taste.

Something warm slid down my upper lip.

I wiped it without thinking.

Red.

Blood.

My chest tightened. My breathing went shallow and fast. I dialed my mother again.

No answer.

My father.

Nothing.

My hands shook as I scrolled down and pressed Gusion’s name. The call rang once. Twice. Then it went straight to voicemail.

I laughed, but it came out weak and ugly. Of course he wouldn’t answer. Why would he?

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely press the numbers. I called 911.

“H-hello…” My voice didn’t sound like mine anymore.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator asked.

“I… I need help,” I said, trying to stay upright, my shoulder pressed to the wall. “Something’s wrong. My head hurts so bad and I can’t… I can’t—”

The phone slipped from my hand.

The last thing I heard was the operator calling my name over and over, her voice fading as everything went dark.

---

Bright lights burned my eyes when I woke up. A steady beeping filled the room. The smell of disinfectant made my stomach turn. I was in a hospital bed. Alone.

A nurse rushed in when she saw my eyes open. “Ms. Colombo, you’re awake. Thank God. How are you feeling right now?”

My throat felt like sandpaper. “How long… how long was I out?”

“You were brought in late last night,” she said softly. “Paramedics found you unconscious at home. You had a severe migraine episode and a nosebleed. Is there anyone we should call for you? Your husband? Family?”

Family.

The word hurt more than my head.

I gave a small, broken laugh. “No,” I said quietly. “There’s no one left to call.”

The nurse looked at me like she wanted to say something, then thought better of it. She just nodded.

The next morning, they discharged me. I went home alone.

The moment I stepped inside, I felt it. That heavy presence. Like the air had shifted.

He was there.

Gusion sat on the couch like he belonged there, suit perfect, phone in one hand, briefcase on the floor. He looked bored. Impatient. Like he was waiting for a meeting to start.

My chest tightened. “Why are you here?” I asked. My voice sounded small.

He stood up calmly, opened his briefcase, and pulled out a thick stack of papers. A pen clipped neatly on top. He held them out to me.

“We need to settle this,” he said. “Sign these.”

I stared at the papers, my hands trembling. “What is this?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Divorce papers. Everything’s already arranged. Assets, custody schedules, legal terms. I just need your signature so we can move forward.”

Divorce—what?

I looked at his face. There was nothing there. No regret. No apology. Not even discomfort.

“After everything,” I whispered, “this is all you have to say to me?”

He sighed, clearly annoyed. “Miya, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. This is the cleanest solution for everyone. Especially Nana.”

My heart sank.