Ten Years of True Love, No Match For Childhood Sweethearts

I started with Mason because of my family’s chaos.

My father was a gambler. When he lost money, he’d get angry, drink, and then lash out at my mother and me. We’d often end up bruised and bleeding, clinging to each other and crying.

When I was sixteen, my father lost a massive amount of money.

He came home, reeking of alcohol, and grabbed my mother by the hair, slamming her head into the table.

“Get me 8,000 dollars! If you don’t have it, go borrow it!” he shouted.

The table shattered. He yanked my mother’s hair and smashed her against the door. The door broke too, but my mother stood her ground. “I don’t have the money, and I won’t borrow it.”

He kept hitting her until her bones were broken, only stopping when he had nearly beaten her to death.

“If I don’t get the money today, I’ll kill this bitch!” he roared.

In his rage, he turned on me, beating me mercilessly.

I struggled to defend myself, but it was no use. Just as I was fading into unconsciousness, my mother’s desperate cries filled the air.

At that moment, a young man burst in and struck my father with a club, knocking him to the ground.

That young man was Mason.

The young boy had eyes that sparkled with a pure sense of justice and sunshine.

He took my hand gently and said, “I’ll help you get away from this place.”

He brought us to the hospital and made sure we had the best doctors.

Every day, he visited us, bringing fresh fruits I had never tasted before.

He would spend entire days with us in the hospital room, chatting and offering comfort.

Despite being from a wealthy family, Mason set aside his privilege to offer warmth and care to us.

My mother was deeply moved by him. When she learned about my relationship with Mason, she was ecstatic.

She traveled miles to a church to pray for us, asking for Jesus’ blessings on our future.

When Mason and I got married, my mother’s joy knew no bounds.

She often said that although her own marriage had been a tragedy, her daughter had found the best possible partner.

I had once felt the same way.

To me, Mason was more than just a husband. He was family and the person who had saved my life.

After we married, I did everything I could to be loving and obedient.

Mason, in turn, was incredibly caring and attentive to both me and my mother.

Our life together was blissful and full of joy.

But soon, our happiness was overshadowed by a growing concern. I couldn’t get pregnant.

The doctors told me that the injuries I’d sustained as a child had left lasting damage, making it almost impossible for me to conceive.

The news was devastating. Mason had always dreamed of having a daughter, and each failed attempt at pregnancy left him increasingly disappointed. Over time, his affection for me started to wane.

He wasn’t as gentle or attentive as he used to be, and he spent less and less time at home.

When Ziva came back home, our happiness completely fell apart.

Ziva was Mason’s first love, his idealized dream.

All the love and affection he had once showered on me now went entirely to her.

If Ziva wanted to see a beautiful night sky, Mason would light up the city with fireworks all night.

If she wanted to watch a movie, he’d book out an entire theater just for her.

Even a hint of a cold from Ziva could make him drop everything and drive across town to be by her side.

As for me, I became invisible.

Asking questions was seen as nagging, and showing any emotion was considered jealousy.

The constant pain of feeling neglected was unbearable, but I endured it, hoping that my patience and selflessness would somehow bring Mason’s love back and restore our family.

I would joke to myself in private posts, saying that I was so generous I could fit a whole ship, letting Mason and Ziva sail off into the sunset together.

I thought that if I just kept being understanding and giving, I could save our relationship and put things back on track.

But I was wrong.

My efforts only led Mason to become more callous.

The fact that my mother died in a storm because of Ziva’s dog shattered me.

The love I once felt for Mason turned into a deep, bitter hatred.