My stepson is 17 and stays with us on weekends. Suddenly, my daughter, 14, started begging me to stop him from coming over. She refused to explain why.
One day, I went to his room and noticed a strange pile of socks near his bed. I moved them aside—and froze. Hidden underneath was a small velvet box.
For a second, my mind raced with every horrible scenario. Drugs? Jewelry stolen from who knows where?
Some kind of secret gift? I carefully opened it, my heart pounding. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny heart charm.
I exhaled sharply, confused but slightly relieved. That night, I gently confronted my stepson, Mateo, while my husband, Trevor, was at work. “Mateo, I found the bracelet under your bed.
Can you tell me what it’s for?” I asked softly. His face turned pale. “Please don’t tell Dad,” he whispered.
I nodded. “Just talk to me.”
He hesitated, then finally spoke. “It’s for Violet.”
Violet.
My daughter. My heart sank. “I know how this sounds,” he added quickly.
“But it’s not what you think. I was going to give it to her for her birthday. As a thank you.”
“A thank you for what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He sighed. “She’s been helping me with my anxiety attacks. You and Dad don’t know, but I’ve been struggling for months.
She found out one night when I had a bad one here. She stayed up with me, talked me through it. She even helped me find a therapist.”
I was stunned.
Mateo always seemed so put together. Confident, even. “And why didn’t she want you coming over anymore?” I asked.
Mateo lowered his eyes. “Because I… I got too dependent on her. I was texting her every day, calling her late at night when I panicked.
She asked me to give her space. She’s just a kid, and I made her feel responsible for me.”
Suddenly, everything made sense. Violet wasn’t scared of him—she was overwhelmed.
I felt a wave of guilt. My daughter had been silently carrying a weight far too heavy for her young shoulders, and my stepson had unknowingly put her in that position. The next day, I sat down with Violet.
I apologized for not noticing what she was going through. She finally opened up too. “Mom, I just didn’t know how to say no to him at first,” she confessed.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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