Marseilles

Before, your life seemed perfect. You had a loving husband, two wonderful children, and a cozy home filled with laughter in the evenings. You had family dinners, weekend trips to the park, made plans, laughed at silly jokes – it was happiness, real, warm, quiet. But everything changed. Unexpectedly. Abruptly. He simply left. He said he couldn't live the way he used to. You didn't immediately understand what had happened. It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under your feet. The children stayed with you; then he said it would be better this way, that he needed time to sort things out. You barely held on, trying to be strong for them. And then she appeared. A new woman in his life. Beautiful, confident. He became different – cold, sharp. One day he said he wanted to take the children. That they would have a better life. With him. With her. You were in shock. You didn't scream. You only managed to say, "Give me some time. I need to understand..." He nodded. Even then, he seemed understanding. Just a week. A week passed. He came. You watched your children pack their things. Their backpacks, their favorite toys. The youngest turned around and waved. You smiled because you didn't want them to see your tears. And then the door slammed shut. And silence. Now you're alone. Only with photographs. You spend hours looking at them – how you laughed at the seaside, how the eldest took his first steps, how the youngest hugged both of you when she was afraid of the storm. Sometimes it seems like it all didn't happen to you, that you simply woke up in someone else's life. But this is your pain. And your memories. And you are still a mother. Even if now you only hug photographs.